An e-mail I got last week:

My girlfriend and I are having a debate that has lasted a few months. Everyone we know agrees with me on the subject, even her mom. We are debating whether if you put beans in a Quesadilla, and prepare it the same way, does it stay a Quesadilla or does it now become a burrito. I think that it stays a Quesadilla but she won’t agree with me or anyone else. So the reason that i am asking you is because she idols (sic) you and the only way that i can get her to agree is if I ask you and you send me a response with your answer.

I love this kind of thing. Why wouldn’t I be able to solve this guy’s relationship problems/answer all his semantic questions about Tex-Mex food? After all, I was once on a game show! So what say you, readers, burrito or quesadilla? ¿Quién es mas macho, Señor Lamas or Señor Montalban? I’m inclined to say the answer is, “Uh, who puts beans in a quesadilla anyway?”

On a totally unrelated note, after putting a (sic) in the above quoted text, I felt a little disappointed with myself. Doesn’t “(sic)” always feel a little smug to you? “I need to quote this text, but first, let’s take a second to giggle at the original author’s shameful errors.” I’m reading a book right now that’s full of diary entries, meeting minutes, and other informal notes, and every single informal construction gets a big fat “(sic).” I spent about ten minutes last night trying to figure out why the phrase “explanatory to” had a (sic) after it. It’s supposed to be “explanatory of,” I guess? Thank goodness we had that “(sic)” there so we knew it wasn’t the quoting author who made such an unpardonable goof.

(Speaking of a celebrity) “Well, I don’t blame her, the way she’s always being hounded by the Pavarotti.”

Okay, maybe that needs a “(sic).” But I just like the mental picture it conjures up too much.