The sharp-of-eye among you will notice that this blog entry isn't entirely my own work. There are two clues. First, it's a poem that rhymes and is funny. Second, I've just told you it isn't. If you can't spot it after those subtle hints, I despair for the human race.
Anyway, I came across this online today, and it amused me, so I thought I'd share. It's called...
The Typo Goblin
I am the Typo Goblin, my heart is made of flint,
My role in life is simply this: to keep you out of print.
I sneak into your manuscript and do my fiendish work,
Adding errors guaranteed to make you look a berk.
And then I cast the ‘Careless’ spell: you say, ‘Ah, what the heck!’
And pop your script into the post without that final check.
At length some hapless editor receives your golden wit,
Anyway, I came across this online today, and it amused me, so I thought I'd share. It's called...
The Typo Goblin
I am the Typo Goblin, my heart is made of flint,
My role in life is simply this: to keep you out of print.
I sneak into your manuscript and do my fiendish work,
Adding errors guaranteed to make you look a berk.
And then I cast the ‘Careless’ spell: you say, ‘Ah, what the heck!’
And pop your script into the post without that final check.
At length some hapless editor receives your golden wit,
And after reading fifty words he writes it off as ... unpublishable.
- Michael Shenton
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