Writing Mistakes!

So I HAD a blog post ready for my "trying to post every Thursday" experiment, but Things Changed and it's very exciting but I can't tell you why yet. *Kermit flail*

SOOOO... I went through some old files looking for something to post and I found a file full of over four years' worth of writing mistakes. I might have posted some of these before but most are new.

All I can say is Enjoy.

　

　

Roads stood still and unmoving (That's... generally the way with roads.)

　

it was overrun with zombies, drawn by the flames like undead moths to flames made of brains

　

Nohing in life is to be feared; it is to be understood. Now is the time to fear more so that we may fear less.

　

A looming shadow loomed (No, really? We must investigate this anomaly.)

　

the bodies piled up in the doorway like snow after a death blizzard

　

I tapped my forehead to my temple (Somehow I seriously doubt that.)

　

We stood like statues, unmoving and unbreathing (Both of which are things implied by the word "statues". Gold star for you.)

　

This claim hit me like a sack of bricks thrown by a proficient thrower of brick sacks

　

My palms were slick and my heart a tapdancing frog (I distinctly remember thinking "Oh, I should reference the Warner Brothers frog in a tophat at this point in the narrative".)

　

getting trapped with no means of escape (Which is exactly what trapped means.)

　

my right butt pocket began to vibrate like a bee in a paint shaker. I tore my eyes from the heavens and reluctantly de-pocketed my phone.

　

The field lay strewn with dozens of dead little goats which had once been live little goats full of little goat dreams. Now they were little more than rutabagas in waiting. (I couldn't think of the word "fertilizer," so I wrote "rutabagas" instead.)

　

I bent down to examine the body of a caramel-colored mare or doe or... goat bitch. To be honest, I grew up on a corn farm, so there wasn't really any male/female terminology involved there. It was a lady goat with two lady goat boobies, and that was good enough for me.

　

I struck my most authoritative pose and flashed my badger.

　

a chest so muscular that it looked like a tee-shirt filled with strategically-placed vegetables

　

buying a carseat seemed an awful lot like buying a collar for a stray dog while waiting for its owner to respond to the help wanted posters. (when most people find a dog, they make found dog posters. )

　

She set the body on a sliding thing and slid him into the freezer like a Flintstone push-up pop