try two.

testing a theory here... to make my life more simple... how is it that in order to simplify, I spend two hours reading the directions... which, by the way, are not simple.

Mr. What the?

Full Stops (Periods) in Contractions

Only use a full stop (period) at the end of a contraction if its last letter is different to the last letter of the whole word.

Examples:

Mr (contraction of Mister)
�
Revd (contraction of Reverend)�

Rev. (also a contraction of Reverend)�

para. (contraction of paragraph)

paras (contraction of paragraphs)

Dr. (contraction of Doctor; r is the last letter of Dr and Doctor)

para (contraction of paragraph; last letters are different -
full stop required)

The theory is supported by Prof. Munro.

Grammar monday

*Bow* to the Grammar-Monster.

There is often confusion between its and it's. If you delve deeper into this issue, you will see that there is good reason for the confusion. However, if you just want to know what is right, the matter is very simple:

It's

It's is short for it is or it has. This is a 100% rule. It cannot be used for anything else. If you cannot expand it's to it is or it has, then it is wrong.

Its

Its is like his and her.

His is used for masculine things. (These are his pies.)
Her is used for feminine things. (These are her flowers.)
Its is used for neuter things. (These are its footprints.)

Examples:

It's been raining for a week, and now it's starting to snow.
(It has been raining....it is starting to snow)

It's one of the hardest courses in it's history.
(The first it's is correct. The second should be its.)

I think the company wants to have its cake and eat it.
(its - possessive form. This is correct.)

The reef shark chases it's prey through the coral.
(should be its, i.e., the possessive form. You cannot expand this to it is or it has.)

Mistakes enough

baseball

What happens when a girl freaks out?
ugh.

what to write.

Not quite silence what i hear.
Darkened blanket kills the light,
but night, sometimes night I fear.
Because ghosts of past,
of regrets,
of achievements unmet,
grieve through my eye shade.
Pushing my legs.
Moving aching hips under covers.
Almost a million people crawl outside the door.
They don't even know,
most don't care.
One breath in,
one out.
Life keeps passing.
Laughter upstairs
that will be there when I'm long gone.
When my name is whispered on the wind,
then forgotten.
A footprint washed away by another coming tide.
Now, though,
the words won't write themselves.
The questions remain unanswered.
Blushing in infuriation,
I am limited by myself only,
so wisdom tells me.
But like the pressure under my vision,
I don't see clearly.
I will wait.
As everything does,
this too shall pass.