Autocorrect Not-o-Correct

Today was pretty rough, and there are lots of thoughts and feels to write about, but at rehearsal my dad and sweety plied me with hugs and alcohol and silliness and I'd rather not go down into the pit again.

Instead, have some silliness with words.

Exhibit A: the continuing saga of My Brother's Adventures With Auto-correct\

My lil' bro has never quite figured out that you can't just pick the first suggestion from auto-correct and assume it'll be anywhere near the right word. He's had it pointed out to him any number of times to no avail. You'd think it would have stuck when his High School biology teacher called him aside to discuss his (now famous) paper: "Reproduction in the Single-Celled Orgasm."

Apparently he still hasn't learned, because dad was just editing one of his university papers, in which he claims that after nuclear war, "Only grasses and incests survive."

Exhibit B: Dad sat down at the computer while we were tuning up and exclaimed "Oh, come on, headline writers! You have to do better than that!" because he read a Seattle PI headline:

"Police Report Sexually Motivated Attack on School Bus."

Presumably this means my dad hasn't heard of either rule 34 OR cargo-shipping, or he wouldn't have been surprised.