Punctuation Infatuation

So I read blogs, and I marvel at the skill and precision with which some of my cohorts, my hound dog being one, use punctuation. I swear I missed that week of 3rd grade. I mean I fantasize about the correct way to use semi-colons, but alas, in the end, it is only a fantasy. Ly tells me all the time when and how the hyphen is suppose to work, but in practice, I freeze, grow increasingly obtuse, and end up with, yet another misplaced comma. I seriously long for the day in which I can correctly type a sentence using a semi-colon, hyphen AND parentheses. Yes, I'm sitting here anxiously staring at Shrunk and White's Elements of Style as a large pimple forms on my ass. Opening that book, for me, is akin to a new software program's help section. If you don't know the right question to ask, how the hell are you ever going to get the right answer?

For now, I content myself with grammatically incorrect musings on the human body, and all that can be done with it. I'll leave the hard work of phrasing the language to the writers and English teachers.

In other news, the boy and I went to Hempfest yesterday. About 24 donuts, one bag of popcorn, one veggie burger (all fortified with the happy hemp) later, the hound and I wandered through the sea of tye-dye listening to the "legalize" cry from a number of different podiums. The boy didn't go to Hempfest last time and so I wanted him to get an idea of what it was like. It is true, I walk in past the gate, and can only spread my arms in thanks as I sigh, "My People!"