Even though I am so, soo guilty of this, I can't help but love these type lists. I've always been amused by the likes of Leno's "Headlines" and the Lynn Trusses of the world. Granted, my enjoyment is accompanied with a blushing dose of self-deprecation. The expensive private schools I attended taught grammar, I'm sure of it, but for some reason I have this irksome black hole in my cerebral cortex. My Ivy League educated husband spins this lack of mine as "cute."
Anyway, this is dedicated to our Mr. Bradley-- newspaperman extraordinaire!