Breakfast this morning was a sausage sandwich then a five minute chillax to drink my tea. A short respite from the madness of the world. The madness continues, I’m sure, whilst I respite 🙂
Back at my desk now. Not sure that means much. Most of the world still lies abed or is away walking in Derbyshire, or Scotland or somewhere. In other words still on holiday.
The Davieses are home from our short break on the Wirral. The hire car has been dropped off and THG has gone to the gym for her daily adrenaline fix. I have conference call at ten and a funeral at 12.30. One of the boys from the Rugby Club. Adie is picking me up. That will be the day done.
From what I can see only one person is working and he is the person with whom I have a conference call at ten. Honestly. The things I do! I can ask him what Santa brought him for Christmas. Always assuming he had been a good boy last year obvs. Soon find out.
Aside from that I do have plenty of jobs I could be getting on with. Yesterday I took a look at log splitter hire. Only deal I could find locally cost £90. I think I’m going to stack the rounds tidily and just split them as needed with my purpose built felling axe. You can buy a big bag of logs for £90.
This is probably not how they recommend doing it in “Norwegian Wood” but it is what it is. I have a pair of gloves and a Timberland shirt that would look appropriate on a lumberjack so that will do. Must dig out that book and read it again. Norwegian Wood. The bible of woodcutters everywhere.
We probs have enough logs now to see out the decade. A somewhat dramatic statement but the fire very rarely gets lit. I do like the concept of having a good logpile though. It provides a sense of security.
Today would be a good day to get a few jobs done in the garden. It is still a bit wet after storm Henge, or whatever it was called, blew in and blew away again but it is bright and sunny. Won’t have time meself obvs, as you know.
Starting to get a bit irritated with Google docs btw. Keeps suggesting grammatical corrections. Ok ok I know it might be right in the strictest sense of the language but who cares nowadays. It’s a bit like when you ask Bard or ChatGPT to write something. The output is very correct but a bit cardboard. I guess I could ask AI to make more use of colloquialisms but I prefer to do it myself.
As a bit of fun I just asked bard to make the above text funkier and got the following suggestions:
Funkifying your text:
1. Dialect and Slang:
- Swap “chillax” for “zoned out” or “spaced out” for a more British vibe.
- Instead of “respite,” try “a quick breather” or “a moment of peace.”
- Ditch “obvs” for “obviously” in most cases, but leave one or two for authenticity.
- Sprinkle in some regional slang – “mebbe” for “maybe,” “bloody” for emphasis, etc.
2. Play with Punctuation and Emojis:
- Use ellipses (…) for dramatic pauses and trailing thoughts.
- Add dashes for quick asides and interjections.
- Throw in some well-placed emojis to emphasize tone and emotions. ☕️ 🪓
3. Vivid Imagery and Humor:
- Instead of “the madness continues,” paint a picture: “the world’s still buzzing with bonkers, I suspect, while I’m here sipping my Earl Grey like a zen sloth.”
- Describe the Davieses’ return with more flair: “The Davieses are back from Wirral, hire car deposited, THG bouncing back from her gym fix like a caffeinated kangaroo.”
- Add a quirky line about the conference call: “Chatting logs with a bloke at 10 who probably got socks for Christmas. Fingers crossed he wasn’t naughty!”
4. Conversational Flow:
- Address the reader directly: “You know I won’t get time for gardening, even on a sun-drenched day like this.”
- Break up text into shorter paragraphs for a more informal feel.
- Use contractions and incomplete sentences to mimic spoken language.
5. Embrace the Imperfect:
- Leave those “grammatical corrections” be! Authenticity over textbook grammar any day.
- Let your personality shine through. Don’t worry about sounding “cardboard” – your unique voice is what makes the writing funky.
By incorporating these elements, you can transform your text into a groovy, relatable, and downright fun read. Remember, the key is to let loose, have fun with language, and express yourself in a way that feels true to you.
Then this is the ChatGPT output
Groovy morning vibes, cats and kittens! Breakfast kicked off with a saucy sausage sandwich, followed by a five-minute chillax sesh to vibe with my tea. A brief escape from the world’s craziness. The madness is probably still doing its thing while I take a break 🙂
Back in the grind at my desk. Not sure if that means a whole lot, though. Most of the world is still catching Zs or strolling through Derbyshire, Scotland, or who knows where. Translation: still on vacay.
The Davies crew is back from our quick jaunt to the Wirral. Ditched the rental wheels, and THG (The Homegirl) is hitting the gym for her daily adrenaline rush. I’ve got a conference call at ten and a funeral at 12:30 for a Rugby Club mate. Adie’s giving me a lift. That’ll wrap up the day.
Seems like the only one pulling the work card is the dude I’m conferencing with at ten. Seriously, the things I do! Maybe I’ll ask him what Santa slipped into his stocking. Assuming, of course, he was on the nice list last year. We’ll see.
Apart from that, I’ve got a stack of tasks waiting for my attention. Checked out log splitter rentals yesterday—local deals are a whopping £90! Thinking I’ll just stack the wood neatly and bust out my purpose-built felling axe when needed. A bag of logs for £90? No, thanks.
Maybe not the “Norwegian Wood” way, but it is what it is. Got my gloves and a Timberland shirt that screams lumberjack chic. Must fish out that book and give it another go. Norwegian Wood—the holy grail of woodcutters.
We’re probably sitting on enough logs to last the decade. Sounds dramatic, but the fireplace rarely sees action. Still, I dig the idea of a solid logpile—it’s like a cozy security blanket.
Today’s prime for knocking out a few garden tasks. It’s a tad soggy post-Storm Henge or whatever it called itself, but the sun’s out. Sadly, no time for me to dig in, as you know.
Getting a tad peeved with Google Docs, by the way. Keeps throwing grammar suggestions my way. I get it, they might be right in the grammar rulebook, but who cares these days? It’s like asking Bard or ChatGPT to spin a yarn—sure, it’s spot-on, but a bit too cardboard. I could ask AI to throw in more slang, but I’d rather bring the funk myself.
V Californian. Anyway gotta go. Need to shave before the funeral
Just for fun I asked ChatGPT to turn that previous text into UK english speak
ChatGPT
Top of the morning, folks! Brekkie kicked off with a cheeky sausage sarnie, followed by a five-minute chillax session to sip on my cuppa. A brief escape from the world’s madness. The craziness is probably still doing its thing while I take a break 🙂
Back in the grind at my desk. Not sure if that means a whole lot, though. Most of the world is still catching some Zs or strolling through Derbyshire, Scotland, or who knows where. Translation: still on holiday.
The Davies crew is back from our quick jaunt to the Wirral. Ditched the rental wheels, and THG (The Homegirl) is hitting the gym for her daily adrenaline rush. I’ve got a conference call at ten and a funeral at 12:30 for a Rugby Club mate. Adie’s giving me a lift. That’ll wrap up the day.
Seems like the only one pulling the work card is the bloke I’m conferencing with at ten. Seriously, the things I do! Maybe I’ll ask him what Santa slipped into his stocking. Assuming, of course, he was on the nice list last year. We’ll see.
Apart from that, I’ve got a stack of tasks waiting for my attention. Checked out log splitter rentals yesterday—local deals are a whopping £90! Thinking I’ll just stack the wood neatly and bust out my purpose-built felling axe when needed. A bag of logs for £90? No, thanks.
Maybe not the “Norwegian Wood” way, but it is what it is. Got my gloves and a Timberland shirt that screams lumberjack chic. Must fish out that book and give it another go. Norwegian Wood—the holy grail of woodcutters.
We’re probably sitting on enough logs to last the decade. Sounds dramatic, but the fireplace rarely sees action. Still, I dig the idea of a solid logpile—it’s like a cosy security blanket.
Today’s prime for knocking out a few garden tasks. It’s a tad soggy post-Storm Henge or whatever it called itself, but the sun’s out. Sadly, no time for me to dig in, as you know.
Getting a tad peeved with Google Docs, by the way. Keeps throwing grammar suggestions my way. I get it, they might be right in the grammar rulebook, but who cares these days? It’s like asking Bard or ChatGPT to spin a yarn—sure, it’s spot-on, but a bit too cardboard. I could ask AI to throw in more slang, but I’d rather bring the funk myself.