To the Esteemed Corrector of My Spelling, and to the Entire Divine Assembly—He, She, They, It, and the One Made of Pure Bureaucratic Light:
Let all realms fall silent as I reveal my transgression:
I, humble fumbler of keyboards and repeat offender of vowel placement, did commit the unspeakable sin of typing feal instead of feel.
This error is not merely a human fault.
It is a violation of God’s sacred decrees, scribed on the Celestial Tablets of Spelling Accuracy—tablets which, I must add, are heavy enough that even angels don’t like moving them.
For this disgrace, I accept the age-old punishments:
Ten Lashes of Linguistic Shame,
Seven Thunders of Divine Spellcheck,
and the cold, judgmental stare of every librarian within a 500-mile radius.
Yet still, the weight of my error demands more.
Thus, I shall ascend a distant, storm-crowned mountain to train under an impossibly old master, one whose wisdom predates fonts themselves.
Possibly a dragon.
Almost certainly a dragon, given the scheduling.
This master will instruct me in the ancient arts:
the Flame of Proper Grammar,
the Wingbeats of Syntax,
and the Tail-Swipe of Unquestionable Verb Conjugation.
Only then shall I be purified.
Signed with Reverence, Regret, and Unavoidable Scheduling Conflicts:
Michael, Pilgrim of the Celestial Grammar Order,
Temporarily Unavailable Next Tuesday
(Because the Ancient Dragon Master said that was the only day they could fit me in),
and Kevin, I Am So Sorry—
Please Rent a U-Haul as I’ll need my truck for travel
This a more “a man” than “the man” but I had a boss I hated who was really into horoscopes.
So I learned all about them so I could memorize every one else’s sign and continue to forget his.
Good luck writing me up for that Rob. Oh wait you couldn’t anyway because I outlasted you!
He also insisted I write “inspirational quotes” on the weekly sales paper for my team to feal inspired . nietzsche it is.
Feel*
To the Esteemed Corrector of My Spelling, and to the Entire Divine Assembly—He, She, They, It, and the One Made of Pure Bureaucratic Light:
Let all realms fall silent as I reveal my transgression:
I, humble fumbler of keyboards and repeat offender of vowel placement, did commit the unspeakable sin of typing feal instead of feel.
This error is not merely a human fault.
It is a violation of God’s sacred decrees, scribed on the Celestial Tablets of Spelling Accuracy—tablets which, I must add, are heavy enough that even angels don’t like moving them.
For this disgrace, I accept the age-old punishments:
Ten Lashes of Linguistic Shame,
Seven Thunders of Divine Spellcheck,
and the cold, judgmental stare of every librarian within a 500-mile radius.
Yet still, the weight of my error demands more.
Thus, I shall ascend a distant, storm-crowned mountain to train under an impossibly old master, one whose wisdom predates fonts themselves.
Possibly a dragon.
Almost certainly a dragon, given the scheduling.
This master will instruct me in the ancient arts:
the Flame of Proper Grammar,
the Wingbeats of Syntax,
and the Tail-Swipe of Unquestionable Verb Conjugation.
Only then shall I be purified.
Signed with Reverence, Regret, and Unavoidable Scheduling Conflicts:
Michael, Pilgrim of the Celestial Grammar Order,
Temporarily Unavailable Next Tuesday
(Because the Ancient Dragon Master said that was the only day they could fit me in),
and Kevin, I Am So Sorry—
Please Rent a U-Haul as I’ll need my truck for travel
For I Must Honor This Sacred Quest.
Is this a copypasta I’m not aware of? 🤣
edit: my new tech metal band name is Wings of Syntax