While heading down to South Avenue Pizza on Saturday, the killer banners that hang in the window of the Hearts of Fire tattoo shop in downtown Springfield once again caught my eye, but this time, it wasn’t because of the stunning images that showcase their amazing work. It was because I was close enough to see that the word “photography” was butchered on every single banner.

What makes me sad is that this is where I’d really like to go get my next tattoo, mostly because I’ve seen their work outside of these banners, and from everything I’ve seen, it’s obvious they do some phenomenal work. I have a cool, extremely meaningful tattoo all planned out, only now I’m terrified that the only word, “DAPSNU” might end up being spelled “DAPNU” — which would actually be pretty funny — or “DAPNSU” or “PEEBUG” or hey, maybe even “DOUCHEBAG.” Who knows. I’d be nervous.

I wish I had gotten a better picture of the banners themselves, because they are seriously beautiful. BAH! Hey, guys at Hearts of Fire, I’d have done a little trade out work. A little ink in exchange for my letter swapping skills? Think about it next time. Girls like me might be more inclined to put ink on their bodies if they aren’t immediately greeted with a typo on the outside of the store.

I’m going to go curl up in the fetal position and cry now.

One of the biggest heartbreaks of my life happens every single time I stumble across a typo on a menu, simply because that restaurant suddenly becomes incredibly unappetizing to me, and for those of you who know me, that is sad because I love food. And eating. Arris Pizza, you might be the only exception despite the fact that your menus say “Specialty Pizza’s”, but that’s only because I really love the fact that at any given moment, I may be able to witness The Dream order the most disgusting-looking cheese-less pizza on the planet*, or that I might run into Brad Pitt**.

I won’t divulge where this was taken (mostly because I don’t exactly know), but I’ll give you a hint: somebody must have been spelling based upon their accent. Hooked on Phonics really shouldn’t be a good source to help people with accents learn to spell.

Feeling thirsty? Well, we have a choice of some fantastic domastic beer (What? Budweiser? Somebody is fooling me!), or if the scathing judgement I have placed upon this establishment (based solely upon the typos I see here) is correct, we can order wine in a box. Also, if you look closely, you can ask for a Micelob Ultra, which sounds like some sort of animal abuse might be occurring there (I definitely do not support that), or if you’re feeling really squirrelly, you can grab a Miler Light, but only if you’ve run a mile and need to celebrate your accomplishment the right way. 

By the way, I just want to say that it’s sort of a given that I am a grammar/spelling snob. But what delighted me with this week’s entry is the fact that my friend Lucy was on vacation and found some typos she had to send my way. Thanks Lucy, you and your hatred of bad spelling on menus rock!

Please, everyone, help save our planet by stopping the support of restaurants that lob mice or serve wine with the sole title “Red.”

* The Dream, AKA my wonderful friend Jeff, is not lactose intolerant. He just hates cheese. I love him anyway.

** This has yet to happen. But I hear he’s in there every time he comes back to Springfield.