a post guest by Larry Brooks de Storyfix.com
I hate being a hater. I am trying to reduce the list of things I really hate, and I try to keep humans humans completely outside of it.
Not easy sometimes. Just sayine.
But it is correct to hate some choses.Comme an injustice.Préjudice. If extending of politicians with hookers. Broccoli.
High on this list are typos.
They resemble tête.Ils lice are as tax audits.Poppy seeds between your front teeth.They like to call your bank or cable company and have 16 levels of automated options to wade through before they will hang up on you.
Typos are provided with the territory by écrit.peintres have clean lay, lawyers have clean divorce agreements and the guys at Wal-Mart has clean this spill on 5 allée.Telle is life.
The battle raged sur.Si you are a writer, you need a plan review.Do not assume the typos, not ready for the typos, is enabling them to water down your brand.
Could hang out a sign that said, allows us to be professional, but now we are not.
Attention the end post night
The bite me just where it counts.
I was already a day at the end of article next in a series being validation.Vie rain leads and it was nearly midnight before I realized that I had not yet it écrit.Mon wife, which normally prints my business had long disappeared in bed with a headache, probably caused by this same rainstorm.
I had a bad headache of my propre.Et I had already taken my beloved Ambien.Une recipe for recovery errors frappe.Une disaster auto-réalisatrice bad spelling, grammatically-pourrie prophecy pending.
So I wrote the thing through the eyelids s sagging.Je rushed, cut corners, just insonorisées.Cliquez the button publish and stumbled in bed.
And horrified the next morning, when I read my email flux.moins for an hour, I received an email from a regular drive me dressing down for deletion of the first balle.Tout, I thought it was my former English teacher
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