I'm not a Roman Catholic but, even so, sometimes it's good to confess.
Every week, I write the bill posters - the sandwich boards which appear outside shops and supermarkets across the borough. And, without puffing myself up too much, I think it's one of the few things I'm fairly good at. That and eating an entire packet of chocolate biscuits in one sitting.
I'm especially happy with 'chicken thief caged' this week, while being able to write the bill 'Doctor bites man' remains a career highlight.
But this week, I failed. I failed miserably.
'OSTED BOOST FOR HIGH SCHOOL'
Any idea what an Osted is? Ever come across an Osted? Wonder how Mr Osted is getting on?
It should, of course, read Ofsted. Ofsted. Of, bloody, stead.
While there is a great, amusing even, irony in mispelling the name of our education watchdog, I still felt awful when made aware of this. I feared I'd be the laughing stock of Twitter, providing the perfect bait for keyboard warriors to make hilarious comments about 'not having to spell properly to get a job at that rag'.
Thankfully, the social media gods were on my side and the only Tweet about an Advertiser bill this week was in reference to the chicken tale I mentioned earlier.
The bills were removed this morning. I'd got away with it.
Until now that is, of course.
My only comfort is that a few months ago, a colleague on our stable of papers (I'll spare his modesty here, as long as he buys me a pint) managed to resurrect a legendary comedian from the dead in a bill.
When he called me in a panic at 6pm on publication day, removing the bill from every shop he could see it displayed, my sympathetic, borderline unprofessional reaction was to laugh heartily down the phone at his misfortune.
Think karma just bit me on the backside this week.
Every week, I write the bill posters - the sandwich boards which appear outside shops and supermarkets across the borough. And, without puffing myself up too much, I think it's one of the few things I'm fairly good at. That and eating an entire packet of chocolate biscuits in one sitting.
I'm especially happy with 'chicken thief caged' this week, while being able to write the bill 'Doctor bites man' remains a career highlight.
But this week, I failed. I failed miserably.
'OSTED BOOST FOR HIGH SCHOOL'
Any idea what an Osted is? Ever come across an Osted? Wonder how Mr Osted is getting on?
It should, of course, read Ofsted. Ofsted. Of, bloody, stead.
While there is a great, amusing even, irony in mispelling the name of our education watchdog, I still felt awful when made aware of this. I feared I'd be the laughing stock of Twitter, providing the perfect bait for keyboard warriors to make hilarious comments about 'not having to spell properly to get a job at that rag'.
Thankfully, the social media gods were on my side and the only Tweet about an Advertiser bill this week was in reference to the chicken tale I mentioned earlier.
The bills were removed this morning. I'd got away with it.
Until now that is, of course.
My only comfort is that a few months ago, a colleague on our stable of papers (I'll spare his modesty here, as long as he buys me a pint) managed to resurrect a legendary comedian from the dead in a bill.
When he called me in a panic at 6pm on publication day, removing the bill from every shop he could see it displayed, my sympathetic, borderline unprofessional reaction was to laugh heartily down the phone at his misfortune.
Think karma just bit me on the backside this week.
- If my boss is reading this, I'd like to plaice it on recordd that I'mm a sticker for detail and actualli veri gud at spulling.