I had a friend visit me the other day to tell me about a problem. I listened to her secret shame and consoled her. Under the veil of anonymity, she agreed to allow me to use her issue, but not her real name. For our purposes, we’ll call her Gwenifer.

Going on a coffee run for your coworkers sounds like a great idea, doesn’t it? Not only do you seem considerate of their caffeine needs, but you also offer to pay (usually), which makes you seem generous. You’re the hero of the office! But then you have to take down all their complicated orders…

I have a five-year-old son. Right now toilet humor is big. Body parts are funny. Things that produce bad smells get big laughs. Basically, I’m in my sweet spot for my son thinking I’m hilarious. Apparently, I act my shoe size more than I act my age. I’m okay with that.

Cut out all these exclamation points. An exclamation point is like laughing at your own joke.

-F. Scott Fitzgerald

Ancient Romans used all capital letters, no spaces and no punctuation. Can you imagine that?

I need a milk butler. “Need?” you ask, followed by, “What’s a milk butler?” Feel free to replace those question marks with interrobangs if you want.

I’m sure pleats will eventually come back into style. I still remember the pleated khakis I wore to church in the mid-1990s. My Dockers brand double-pleated pants complemented my penny loafers to perfection in order to create that “nice-Baptist-guy-all-the-girls-just-want-to-be-friends-with” look I was going for.

I think we have a strong, American impulse that tells us to do something despite someone else’s warning to not do that very thing. I’m sure someone cautioned motorcycle stuntman Evel Knievel not to attempt jumping over a box of 50 rattlesnakes followed by two mountain lions in 1965, but he did it anyway.

Chivalry isn’t dead—yet. Follow these tips to make sure your Valentine’s date wants to smooch you into oblivion at the end of the night. After all, yours truly was quite the dating doyen prior to shifting my interests to grammar.

Last week I discussed the topic of subject-verb agreement. Many of you wrote in and asked about sports teams, particularly sports teams whose names don’t end in “s”: are they considered singular or plural?

You only have to look as far as your social media feed to realize people disagree over just about everything in our current climate. He’s a crook! She’s a liar! You’re crazy! And that’s among friends. It seems like the only thing we can agree on is we can’t agree on anything.

Did you know that “I Am the Walrus” was the B-side to The Beatles’ 1967 single “Hello, Goodbye?” Usually, a B-side served as a virtual throwaway for a band—a discarded song that would never get radio airtime. The focus was always intended for the A-side to shine.

Somewhere in a secret laboratory (probably in Minsk), a team of thermodynamic scientists worked for years to perfect the to-go mug that hermetically traps heat, keeping your coffee or tea hot for hours. They traded handshakes and perhaps a few high fives before scalding their taste buds on some celebratory hot chocolate.

Since Julius Caesar proposed the aptly named Julian calendar in 45 B.C., people have been making bold resolutions to improve themselves. For the record, Caesar’s resolution didn’t work that year, as his best friend literally stabbed him in the back the following year.

Isn’t it fun to run into seemingly outdated language during the holiday season? It’s the equivalent of having a herald show up at your door with a written proclamation on parchment instead of your friend merely sending you a text message.

At some point in “How the Grinch Stole Christmas!” the Grinch is scheming aloud to his dog, Max, when he asks, “Are you having a holly jolly Christmas?” Even for a guy whose heart’s an empty hole, the Grinch’s question has been bothering me this holiday season.

Does it bother anyone else that the word “subtle” has a silent “b?” Is it ironic that the word subtle means “understated?” The “b” in subtle is, therefore, itself, subtle. Are you with me?

I didn’t wear glasses until college, which was before I believed in North Dakota. During a lecture hall class, I found myself squinting to see the chalkboard at a distance. After seeing an optometrist, I realized my vision wasn’t that great. As it turns out, I’m near-sighted.

Grammar: it’s everywhere. And, as soon as someone identifies himself as an expert, you can almost always safely assume he’s going to judge you anytime you end a sentence with a preposition. That’s the quickest way to get on the naughty list!

Here’s a brief record of things I have lost in the past month: keys, a charging cable for my phone, chapstick, patience, earbuds, wallet, sanity, a travel mug, and roughly three more charging cables.