…I punch myself in the crotch.
Not literally—duh. But I should. That’s what I deserve. I feel ashamed and embarrassed and humiliated and all that dumb stuff. I’m a socially awkward goofball and that I let something so minute, a harmless disarrangement of letters, get to me, just further paints the picture of the weirdo I is.
In a world that revolves around computers and keyboards, I’m sure most people understand them for what they are, but to me it’s detrimental. I’m already checking my supply of razor blades and rubbing my wrists and forearms when I see a second mistake in the same published piece.
It sort of feels like kick to the nuts. I understand that it can be difficult to spot one’s own mistakes, but I usually obsess over stuff, even simple social media posts, making sure it looks and reads right, so when I see something slipped by, I’m all fucked up. I even reread old posts looking for typos and errors from time to time.
Holy studded dildo to the butthole, if I ever catch a your, you’re or a there, their, they’re mistake, my world starts to crumble as I race against time to beat all the people not reading my blog to fix it. When I catch one of them bitches, the self mutilation escalates quickly, and I start thinking about castration. Those are the most embarrassing.