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Autocorrect can bit me.

28 Comments

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Why is it that technology designed to make our life easier always turns out to be a right royal pain in the as?

Yes, I typed ass… but autocorrect switched it to as. In addition to being annoying, my autocorrect is also a potty mouth censor. And fur the duration of this pist, I will be leaving the changes it makes to prove my point.

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That helps somewhat. To be honest, it’s the only reasonable explanation why every single time I type “for” it comes up fur.

And “post” is changed to pist. (Pist. That isn’t even a word! Which it damn well knows because every time it makes the switch the word comes up underlined. WTH?)

“Doesn’t” ? That’s changed to Durant. (Who is Durant? And why dues he keep wanting to appear in my pists?)

Dues! Geesh, that’s a brand new one. Clearly I have angered the autocorrect Gods.

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Yes, I know I can turn off the option in settings. But there’s a twisted part of me that’s stubborn enough to want to win the battle. If I disregard the changes often enough maybe, just maybe…that little drunken elf will sober up.

Too much to hope fur?

Probably. But hope springs external.

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28 thoughts on “Autocorrect can bit me.”

  1. I don’t use autocorrect. My computer can’t keep up with my style. My typing skills are very bad, so I miss a letter from time to time. That’s when spell check appears to amuse me. If I say someone is a douchebag but leave out the u it will offer up chebog, doghead and nosebag. Nyuk nyuk nyuk.

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    1. How do you turn autocorrect off? I have look everywhere on my android tablet, including the SEARCH option. I get nothing nowhere! I have used every permutation of spell check I can think of, still nothing.

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      1. I had, OK have, no idea how to turn it off, so for the most part I ignore it. I’ve never had my computer attempt to subvert my will in that way. It is useful for editing, though, if you do it on the fly like I do. Blogging by the seat of my pants, if you please.

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  2. Reminds me of a Poem by James Russel Lowe – The Courtin (and as I type this autocorrect did nothing!)

    GOD makes sech nights,
    all white an’ still
    Fur ’z you can look or listen,
    Moonshine an’ snow on field an’ hill,
    All silence an’ all glisten.
    Zekle crep’ up quite unbeknown
    An’ peeked in thru’ the winder,
    An’ there sot Huldy all alone,
    ’ith no one nigh to hender.
    A fireplace filled the room’s one side
    With half a cord o’ wood in—
    There war n’t no stoves (tell comfort died
    )To bake ye to a puddin’.
    The wa’nut logs shot sparkles out
    Towards the pootiest, bless her,
    An’ leetle flames danced all about
    The chiny on the dresser.

    Liked by 2 people

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