I Hate Contractions

I don't know what you're talking about; I've always known how to spell "balloon." It's absolutely absurd for you to suggest that I also misspelled it. Completely implausible. That never happened. Never. "Balloon" obviously has two O's and two L's. I think I'm allowed to use apostrophes while making letters plural.

Anyway, yeah, I misspelled "balloon," too.

I'm very happy with your punishment, Max! If I ever feel like I've done a silly thing, I'll try to remember the time you got your head lodged underneath a couch.

I need a transition. Here's a picture of a baby giraffe:

As many people already know, I hate pennies. But there's one thing I hate even more than pennies: contractions.

Contractions pose a barrier to successful verbal communication. We should all be willing to concede that as humans go, our brains aren't all that impressively fast. We can only think of so many things within a short period of time. When you're talking to somebody using contractions, you're using less words than you could be using. Therefore, you run out of discussion topics more quickly, and your brain struggles to keep up with the conversation. I firmly believe that ideas are best conveyed using the most amount of words and syllables as possible.

Additionally, contractions are dreadfully informal. I'm eternally grateful to Microsoft Word 2007, one of the few computer programs that underlines my contractions with a little green line to alert me of my horrid mistakes of using contractions. Why can't all programs do this? When I write business letters and argument papers, the last thing I want to do is allow the readers of my copious formal works to relate to my words by using socially accepted language. That's why great writers like Shakespeare never used contractions.

Finally, contractions are for lazy people. Put simply, this issue a slippery slope. First, we use plebeian contractions just so we can shorten our sentences a tiny bit. Then, we spend more time watching television and sleeping than not. We stop recycling, and our lush backyards become our personal landfills. Eventually, nobody shows up to their jobs anymore, the economy plummets, and we're all on our way to Armageddon.

I would go on for days, but my pitiful human mind only processes a few thoughts at a time. Max, I'll see your post tomorrow.