Well, it finally happened. Autocorrect realized I wasn’t talking about ducks, giving a duck, or that something was ducking obvious.

I’ll admit, autocorrect shows a bit of creativity in its interpretation of my vocabulary and sentence structure.

And sometimes it’s also kinda funny in a sick, twisted way.

In my current work in progress, I referred to a clowder of cats. A clowder, for those who haven’t watched Big Bang Theory, is a group of cats.

Autocorrect changed it to a chowder of cats.

Which isn’t anywhere close to what I meant. And, frankly, while I don’t have a problem writing about dining on your fellow man or woman, I don’t think I’d ruin a good chowder by putting chunks of cat in it.

But that’s just me.

Thankfully, I was able to correct it before my critique partner saw it and I ended up eviscerated in one of her novels, as she writes about cats. Big cats. The kind that wouldn’t take kindly to being in a chowder.:D

Until next time.