Something in this photo is scary, and let me tell you, it’s not the gigantic spider. It’s the subtle typo that makes you either think that there are both female and he-male tarantulas living in the state of Missouri, or that the letter T was mistakingly left out of the word “the.” Seriously, guys. He males?

I just want to add, my family was in town this weekend, and thanks to my niece and nephew who had “Sesame Street: All Star Alphabet” rocking for hours on end, I learned the importance of every letter of the alphabet. Granted, kids spelling the letter “T” with their bodies isn’t quite as exciting as Larry King interviewing the letter “W”, but it’s no less important.

After all, that one simple typo turned Missouri male tarantulas into some sort of super-male like He-man. And that’s one tarantula I wouldn’t want to run into. Though if you’re like us, your mind might actually wander to the she-male arena, and that almost makes it even more humorous.

I have to thank Jason for finding this one and not only pointing it out, but for also being able to shoot it through glass. And just as a side note, this was found at the grand daddy of Bass Pro Shops here in Springfield. Something tells me if we had looked hard enough, we’d have found a few more.

Nearly two years ago, Jason and I were headed to Kim and Jayson’s to celebrate their wedding in Fort Worth, Texas when we were drawn off of I-40 in some town in Oklahoma by an almost magnetic force: a convenient store that also doubled as a full fledged casino was calling our names.

Sadly, despite the fact that the glitz and glamor of that glittery casino was overshadowed by something that caught my eye the moment I stepped out of the car. The sign at the pump read, “Smile your on surveillance camera.”

As always, I yelled out loud, “You have got to be kidding me!”

Granted, this sign doesn’t even make sense. But what really kills me is that the word “surveillance” was spelled correctly. Hey, even I have to use spell check at times, but don’t you think if somebody had taken the time to make sure that word was correct, they’d make sure the rest of the sign was right, too?

Sadly, my excitement for that little gas station/casino was completely destroyed by that one little typo. But hey, if you can get past it and happen to be driving through Oklahoma, I’d recommend stopping by. You can’t miss the place, plus nothing beats being able to play a little Roulette after filling up your tank. Both are a gamble these days anyway. And when it’s all said and done, I promise you won’t be as disappointed as I was.

P.S. A quick lesson on your vs. you’re: 

your |yôr; yoŏr|, possessive adjective

1 belonging to or associated with the person or people that the speaker is addressing : what is your name?

2 belonging to or associated with any person in general : the sight is enough to break your heart.• informal used to denote someone or something that is familiar or typical of its kind : I’m just your average Joe | she is one of your chatty types.

I’ll never forget the day I dreamt up this concept in my messed up little head. I was at the Sheraton in New Bern, NC, and was waiting for some friends when I glanced over toward the elevators and noticed something that made me say, “No effing way” out loud, which I’m sure everybody around me heard.

There, etched right into the elevators sign was a big, fat typo. Somehow, the Sheraton had failed to hire a proofreader, so built right into the stone was the word, “elevator’s.”

Now, I don’t expect everyone to be a grammar Nazi like me, but the Sheraton is a pretty well-known hotel. In fact, the company that owns the Sheraton also owns W Hotels, Westin, St. Regis… With that many luxury brands, I have a tendency to believe they could have hired somebody who would have known that the elevator can’t take possession of something. Or maybe I see a B-movie in someone’s future.

I soon became obsessed with the idea that I needed to take a picture of that sign. For starters, I didn’t think people would believe that kind of typo was at the Sheraton, etched in stone. Secondly, it bugged me so much that I suddenly thought maybe I should start taking pictures of signs with typos as a sort of therapy for myself.

Here was my idea: in writing, when you are quoting something somebody else wrote and there is a typo that you want to acknowledge as something you are aware of but can’t do anything about, you write [sic] after the typo. To me, taking a picture of those typos was my way of acknowledging it was wrong, even though there was nothing I could do about it. And thus, my [sic] world was born.

Over the past few years, I’ve had the disgruntled pleasure of taking numerous pictures, found on signs across the country, which I can’t do anything about other than just snap a shot for my project. I promise that the results are entertaining, but it’s disheartening to continue gathering shots that are so incorrect that I fear for the future.

Thanks to many wonderful people who have encouraged me to take action and do something with this idea, I finally have some pretty entertaining direct mail pieces finished that I plan on sending out, just so I can enter them into some awards books. But mostly I’m just relieved that I finally have an outlet.

With that said, please enjoy my site, and most importantly, I officially welcome you into my [sic] world.