I just saw this little fun poem, this passes when run through the Word spelling checker!


I have a spell in chequer
It came with my pea see.
It plane Leigh Marx four my revue
Miss takes eye ken knot sea.
I've run this poem threw IT
I'm shore your plea zed too no;
It’s let a perfect in its weigh
My check her tolled me sew


It does not pass the grammar check though...

When Word sees a spelling error, it usually offers an alternative, some of which can be quite funny. I have a friend who's surname is Tissot, try a Word spell check on that and see the first alternative it offers!

My Outlook and Word 2003 gets it in red and tells me that word not in dictionary. It does it a lot. Anyone else?

I wager that chequer is a valid spelling in The King's English.  

However, here in The Colonies, it fails!

Skip,

_{Be advised: When you ignite a firecracker in a bowl of vanilla, chocolate & strawberry ice cream, you get...
Neopolitan Blownapart!}

There's a longer version of the poem, with a couple of extra verses in the middle.  This one has no spelling errors in UK English.  (I didn't write this, and I don't know who did - apologies if its out of place in this folder.)

Eye halve a spelling chequer
It came with my pea sea
It plainly marques four my revue
Miss steaks eye kin knot sea.

Eye strike a quay and type a word
And weight four it two say
Weather eye am wrong oar Wright
It shows me strait a weigh.

As soon as a mist ache is maid
It nose bee fore two long
And eye can put the error rite
Its rare lea ever wrong.

Eye have run this poem threw it
I am shore your pleased two no
Its letter perfect awl the weigh
My Chequer tolled me sew.

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The joke cannot be found
^{The funny quote you are looking for might have been removed, had its name changed, or is temporarily unavailable.}

The full name of the poem is "Candidate for a Pullet Surprise" and it was written by Jerrold H. Zar, Northern Illinois University.  The complete poem is available here.

Susan
"Few things are harder to put up with than the annoyance of a good example." - Mark Twain, Pudd'nhead Wilson (1894)