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Contraction it's given over to possessive case

"The hell with it," say nation's top grammarians

CHICAGO IL — A consortium of the nation's top grammarians has revised the rules of grammar to permit the use of the contraction it's as a possessive nominative pronoun. The revision was announced at a press conference today at the University of Chicago.

"Most people write it's as a possessive anyway, so we figured, the hell with it," said John Grossman, Managing Editor of the venerable Chicago Manual of Style.

Grossman was clutching a bottle of whiskey.

"They write A South American poison dart frog sits atop it's keeper's thumb during feeding time," said Grossman, or "The aircraft carrier USS Abraham Lincoln pulls into Everett, Wash., as a fireboat shoots it's water cannons."

A smirking Grossman held up placards that illustrated the formerly erroneous sentences. He then threw the placards on the ground and drank from his bottle while cameras flashed around him.

"Since the it's error is ubiquitous, we suppose it's no longer an error," said Karen Judd, author of the respected Copyediting: A Practical Guide. "That's the [redacted] evolution of the language, right?"

She tapped Grossman on the shoulder, took his bottle, and drank hard.

Members of the consortium stated that they changed the grammatical rule to give a much-needed break to editors everywhere.

"If you're an editor, you can spend hours explaining to your colleagues and writers the difference between it's and its and most of the time no one believes you anyway," said Karen Elizabeth Gordon, author of the well-known grammar handbook The Transitive Vampire. "So now both it's and its correctly indicate the possessive. We have saved editors a lot of stress.

"Like anyone gives a [redacted] anyway," she said.

New iterations of dictionaries, textbooks, and grammar and style guides will reflect the grammatical change.

"Next, I bet we'll be revising the relative pronouns which and that," said Grossman, staggering slightly. "No one gives a [redacted] anymore about separating [redacted] restrictive [redacted] clauses from non-restrictive."

"Yeah, they think if they write which instead of that, their words sound more important," said Gordon, momentarily tussling with Grossman for the bottle.

"We might as well go ahead and endorse the use of a lot of for many, too," said Judd.

"Or comprise for compose," said Gordon.

"Or literally as an intensifier," said Judd.

"Or nauseous for nauseating," said Gordon.

"Or empathetic for empathic," said Judd.

"Yeah, just god[redacted] it all to hell," said Grossman, glaring into the cameras. "Who took my [redacted] whiskey?"

Elves, mortals protest toll hike at Bifrost Bridge

Heimdall holds firm

ASGARD — Oðin the All-Father raised to thirty silver pieces the toll to cross Bifrost Bridge last Wednesday, sparking protests throughout Midgard, Nidavellir, and Svartalfheim. The new toll is a fifty percent increase from the previous toll of twenty silver pieces.

"How am I supposed to sell my goods at a reasonable price in Asgard now?" said Trinith Nine Souls, an elvish merchant from Svartalfheim who sells battle accoutrements, riding gear, toiletries, and periodicals in Asgard. "There's no way I can be competitive with the local vendors."

Above: Heimdall

The increase was anticipated widely since last year's Allthing in Asgard, when the Norns Urd, Verdande, and Skuld appeared mysteriously — not that they ever appear any other way — and predicted the toll hike.

Bifrost is the only bridge between Midgard, the realm of humanity, and Asgard, the realm of the gods. It is guarded by Heimdall, the god of light and the watchman of the gods.

Bifrost is constructed of the three primary colors, red, green, and blue, and was built by the Aesir at the beginning of time. At the end of time, Bifrost will collapse. To date the bridge shows no sign of deterioration.

By Wednesday afternoon Heimdall had turned away several travelers who lacked funds to pay the increased toll.

"Rules are rules," a stern Heimdall, aback his mount Gulltop, told reporters. "I just do what I'm told."

Heimdall, having been born at the end of the world, raised by the forces of sea and earth, and nourished on the blood of a boar, is considered by many scholars to be suited perfectly to stand as watchman on Bifrost.

Bifrost Bridge, constructed of the primary colors

Reportedly, Heimdall can hear grass grow, so sensitive are his ears, and requires less sleep than a bird does. He carries the horn Gjall which he sounds at the approach of, well, anyone, or often for no apparent reason at all. He maintains a residence at Himinbjorg, or the Cliffs of Heaven.

"He stands up there tooting that [redacted] horn all day," interjected Fafhrd Brokenhelm, a serf from Midgard who lives near the Bifrost Bridge.

"No one crosses Bifrost but they pay thirty pieces of silver," reaffirmed Heimdall.

A band of serfs, peasants, warriors, and elves, organized reportedly by the mischiefmaker Loki who is Heimdall's archrival, was gathering in Midgard to protest the toll hike.

Man estimates length of time he will be pissed off

FAIRFAX VA — Paul Christensen, 43, articulated today over coffee and danish at the Metro Diner on Lee Highway the length of time that he will be pissed off. "Well," said Christensen, "you know how scientists say that the universe will expand forever, and that after unknowable trillions of years all of the particles in the universe will roll to a halt and cease moving at the subatomic level, and then everything will be utterly cold, dark, and motionless?" Christensen's face convulsed. "Well I'll still be pissed off then!" Christensen did not say what has him so pissed off.

Area man keeping it real

CHARLOTTESVILLE VA — Charlottesville resident Daniel Greene, 28, is keeping it real, and has been keeping it real for as long as anyone in this quiet Virginia college town can remember. Greene is recognized widely in his community for his propensity for keeping it real. "Yeah, I keep it real," he told reporters today. "I always keep it real. Everybody knows that." When asked if he keeps it real real, Greene regarded reporters with suspicion and indicated he did not understand the question. Greene then said that he intends to continue keeping it real, and threatened reporters with a string of expletives.

Area 14-year-old doesn't have the sense god gave a garbanzo bean

SILVER SPRING MD — Area resident Melissa Hendricks, 14, doesn't have the sense god gave a garbanzo bean, according to her mother, Holly Hendricks, 41. The elder Hendricks cited several recent events to illustrate her argument that Melissa's sense is lesser than that apportioned, by the Supreme Deity, to a garbanzo bean. "Yesterday I asked her to take out the trash, and she tried to drag this overstuffed garbage bag with a hole in the bottom across the kitchen floor," said Mrs. Hendricks. "There was a trail of garbage across the kitchen. And then she wanted to brush the dog, so she took my hairbrush and went to work. I threw a fit when I found dog hair in my hairbrush. I tell you, that girl does not have the sense god gave a garbanzo bean."

98.7% of academic essays have titles divided by a colon

WASHINGTON DC — Over 98% of graduate level academic essays have titles divided by a colon, according to a recent study sponsored by the Center for Review of Academic Pedagogy, a nonprofit organization based in Washington DC. "Our study shows that today's graduate students are unable to form an essay title from a discrete idea," said Dr. Bryn McDermott, 46, a leader of the study. "Their essay titles begin with a general, sometimes poetic or dramatic, thought that is halted by the colon, and then shift jarringly to a specific example of the preceding general thought." The study noted tens of thousands of graduate level essay titles that were bifurcated by colons, such as (Re)Weaving the Tapestry of Reflection: The Artistry of a Teaching Community, or English Romanticism in the U.S. Literary Studies: Literary-Historical Ideology and the Institution, or The Constitution of Language and Institutionalized Oppression: The Voices of Women in Sports Broadcasting. McDermott continued, "A student writer believes on a deep level that neither part of her essay's title, neither the general thought nor the specific example, is convincing enough to stand on its own."

Man's pheromone spray attracts bees, squirrels, grizzly bear

ARLINGTON VA — The human pheromone spray that Donald Gunther, 31, ordered from a web site attracted sexual overtures from a swarm of bees, a pack of squirrels, and a grizzly bear today, according to Arlington police.

A stung and violated Gunther stated feebly from his hospital bed that, upon receiving the pheromone spray in the mail, he doused himself liberally with it and stepped out for an evening of fun at XandO, a local bar and popular meetup spot. The pheromone spray was supposed to elicit irrepressible sexual urges in women, Gunther said.

But Gunther never made it to XandO. After walking fifty yards he was attacked by a swarm of bees, who clustered on Gunther's pheromone drenched genitals, armpits, and face and stung him viciously.

"Apparently the bees were irritated by Gunther's pheromone and thought he was an invading queen bee," said local entomologist Jessica McSwain. "When they found he was not a queen bee, they stung him repeatedly anyway because they were enraged.

"There's probably some kind of moral here," said McSwain.

Gunther ran screaming into a nearby copse of trees pursued by the bees, according to eyewitnesses, who then lost sight of him.

According to Gunther, he escaped the bees and fell down exhausted in the woods. Just as he was catching his breath and had begun to extract bee stingers from his flesh, he was surrounded by a chittering mob of common suburban tree squirrels, who clustered at his feet, tripped him, swarmed over him and began to gnaw at his body.

Gunther told reporters that he screamed and writhed on the ground for several minutes while the maddened squirrels chewed away his clothes. After a few minutes he managed to wrench free, and ran screaming deeper into the woods completely naked.

Gunther sprinted pellmell into a roaming male grizzly bear, one of the few remaining in the wild in the Arlington VA area. The bear picked him up bodily, sniffed his pheromone drenched body, then savagely raped him.

Gunther was found unconscious by a commuter, who called Arlington police. Gunther was brought to George Mason Hospital, where doctors listed his condition as guarded.

Excessive use of word "ultimate" heralds apocalypse, warns professor

PRINCETON NJ — Juanita A. Delgarito, Professor of Eschatology at Princeton University, warned today that excessive use of the word "ultimate" in modern advertising is a sign of approaching armageddon. "The word 'ultimate' means 'final'," explained Professor Delgarito. "Just as 'penultimate' means 'next to final'." According to Delgarito, an overwhelming number of consumer products currently on the market are advertised as ultimate products. "The latest digital cellular telephone from Interactive Data & Telephone is the 'ultimate in telecommunications'," said Delgarito. "The new 1999 Rolls-Royce Silver Seraph is the 'ultimate in automotive luxury'. The 16 ounce Gatorade Lemon-Lime Super Slammer is the 'ultimate in refreshment'. Etcetera etcetera. These days, a great many consumer products are ultimate, which means there will be no products to follow, which indicates a grave disruption of human society such as one caused by the apocalypse. When these ultimate products are discontinued, we can expect the Ride of the Four Horsemen, the Arrival of the Antichrist, and the Second Coming of the Messiah."

Scientists debate which is mortar, which is pestle

WASHINGTON DC — Research chemist Bernard G. Watkins, an employee of Antex Biologics in Gaithersburg MD, and pharmacist Kenneth B. Simpson, an employee of Rite-Aid Inc., fell into a heated argument late last night over a mortar and pestle set, of the kind used by scientists, cooks, and herbalists. The two scientists were attending a health research fundraising event at the Australian Embassy.

According to witnesses, Watkins and Simpson could not settle the matter of which implement of the set was the mortar and which was the pestle. A reporter on hand to cover the fundraising event recorded the scientists' exchange.

"Every professional in the pharmaceutical field knows that this is the pestle," said Simpson, holding up the bat-shaped grinding and pounding implement. "And this is the mortar." Simpson held up the bowl-shaped implement.

"Nonsense, Simpson," Watkins broke in. "You've got it backward. That's the mortar, and that's the pestle." Watkins gestured at the implements.

Above: Mortar and pestle

Simpson clumsily set down his drink and faced his challenger. "Well, looky here, everyone!" he said in a loud mocking voice. "Mr. Smarty Pants Dr. Watkins wants to tell us which is the mortar and which is the pestle! Are you quite sure of your facts, Dr. Watkins?"

At this point the room quieted and the crowd began to regard the scientists.

"Dr. Simpson, if you weren't drunk as a sailor you would remember that I use a mortar and pestle every day of my professional life!" said Watkins. "I doubt you can say the same. I bet you haven't used a mortar and pestle since graduate school."

Several people in the crowd began to snicker. Simpson moved torward Watkins, weaving on his feet. Watkins hastily downed the remainder of his rum punch and moved to meet Simpson. Both men appeared to ready themselves for a bout of fisticuffs.

"Never give a pestle to a pest, I always say," needled Simpson.

"You wouldn't know a pestle if it were jammed in your bottom, you rum-guzzling baboon," said Watkins.

"You, Watkins, are an ill-mannered quack."

"Where did you get your degree, Simpson? Out of a gum-ball machine?"

Simpson roared and charged at Watkins, who met him with flailing fists. The combatants rolled cursing on the floor, scattering furniture and people, until security guards separated them. The scientists were escorted to separate rooms and locked therein until they sobered up.

"I'll teach you the business end of a pestle," screeched Watkins as he was dragged away.

"Your mother's a pestle!" shouted Simpson.