() oh we 3.0 now? I PASTE THIS WHOLE PAGE ON EVERYTHING.

The following will be color coded, depending on the context.

{COMMA} or [ , ] = Add comma. If red you must, yellow you probably should.
[] = Something of note I was simply too lazy to explain e.g
"His hot[] eyes made her feel cold[] {wtf?}"
Capitalization will be noted by underline and highlight and not much else. Pay attention to this.
e.g "Hey what's up guy, i didn't Know you were this illiterate!"
Green = Something awesome
>implying

Red = Serious Grammatical or Tonal / Tense / POV Error that NEEDS to change.

YELLOW = Hazardous Grammatical syntax or minor error / Tone / just other issues Consider
heavily revising, but not necessarily something you'd HAVE to change per say, but yeah
no...fucking change it.
GRAY = General grammar or tone commentary // suggestions. These are my suggestions but
NOT something you'd technically have to change.
Cyan or whatever color this is = My thoughts unfiltered. To be honest you can should probably
ignore most of this. On the flip side, it might also be the most helpful...

BLACK/WHITE == WRITING LESSON

You won't see these much generally, unless there is a ton of red and yellow...then you'll see these pop up
if I'm not rage quitting (more likely). Often, I'm passive aggressive polite enough to give you a resource
with it.

[]Sometimes there won't will not be any commentary, and I'll simply just cross stuff out or
undorlane it. For example, removing a periods.. Sorry.

Disclaimer: I'm a cold hearted (sarcastic/sadistic) bitch. I am no apologist. I swear

too fucking much. I do about 50% of these drunk. I pick what I read at random. I might
lament picking yours. Admittedly, that's probably better for you, because I rip it apart harder. I
use jargony hippy double-talk, don't even try to follow my train of incoherent psychobabble. I
meme drop harder than skrillex drops bass. I'm probably an old /b/tard or an anarchist.
Probably schizophrenic if nothing else. We gitten son. I also tend to be a bit heavy handed on
the commas (yellow ones) so take them with a grain of salt as I only read through once and
often splice without finishing the sentence.
If you're butthurt about anything I've written please refer to this spoiler
Too bad. You suck. REKT.

As the bow crested through the waves, {no comma} and the water cascaded and slammed
down, {already too redundant and poetic. Look at Stephen King "The man in black fled into the
desert, and the gunslinger followed." Super easy start to the dark tower.} dipping her forward,
like a great watery fist, the gilded mermaid on her bow gleamed and glistened in the soon fading
sun. {WAS THAT ONE FUCKING SENTENCE!? AN OPENING?! puking purple THIS hard
this early. Suffice to say, if you're aiming for poetry, you're failing. If you're aiming for anything
else, you're failing and burning. Stop.} The crew of The Singing Gull {nice name for once}
began to curse and swear as the unbidden tempest besieged them. {too poetic. Why? You don't
get bonus points from your readers by molesting your thesaurus} Captain and Pilot fast at the
helm, riding the coming storm with something near glee and terror. {We are now 1 paragraph in
and we've not really discussed much of anything.}
"This is why we sail, boys! How The Almighty would sink us for our depredations!" A
laugh and guttural call of challenge to their maker. Clinging to the rail, Pilot to helm, the crew
always got nervous when the Captain was in one of his fits. Red flag streaming above them,
horizontal and whipping in the gale. {I fucking hated Moby Dick. Who are we kidding, I've
never read Moby Dick...and this is why------I'm going to take a time out to just backhand you.
You're being so overly poetic it's ridiculous. Are you story telling or nuking me with prose.
Which is it? If it's the latter, stop. If it's the former, you're failing. You're not a bad writer, and
you do understand the English language, and grammar quite well, my issue is your tone is
unclear and the story (or lack of) isn't progressing. You're just spewing prose at me and sentences
you think are interesting.}
"Hold fast, boys!" Clinging to rope and rail, making ready in the storm, all muttered
prayer and curse to God and Neptune. {who is talking}{Neptune? What year is this? You know
it was an ancient Greek or Roman (I forget which is which with Poseidon) deity right? That's like
praying to Zoroaster in 2014. Honestly, it's like believing in any god in 2014....kek} To Spirits
old and savage from before antiquity. {Alright, so you do knowbut these two clauses feel like
one sentence, not two...one long pointless sentence.} "On the tack, bilge rats!" The hours drew
on before the seas calmed and the sun began to set. Blood red on the horizon. {Same shit,
different paragraph. I really do like your word choice, but perhaps I'm just not enjoying it right
now because I'm not sure the context I'm supposed to take it. It's very profound, but it doesn't
feel like a story or a coherent plot. I'm accustomed to linear stories, not long poetic shortsthat
doesn't excuse most of the other problemsI'm going to stop monologue for awhile here}
In the calm of the failing light, much of the crew was below deck, {making the "failing" light
kinda pointless, since they can't see it} gathered to their grog and gossip, Quartermaster with
them. Watching a lantern sway with the waves. {This is a fragment} Then through the still
evening air, {not every single object needs a modifier (is that what they're called in this context? I know there is something
called a modifier) I honestly just make shit up as I'm going along like Glossary Puke...Some are really known terms , but I think others I've just made up or misused...

, let alone
two e.g STILL / EVENING} the smell of perfume and the sound of soft song. Sultry and sweet
to the ear of everyman. {Fragment / Thesaurus abuse}
"You hear that? No,{consider ellipsis} you smell that?" Griggs looked to Tom. {decent
names againI just read some shit with Ehu and I was like WTF IS THAT?!}
"Aye, and both! The storm has blown us to who knows! 'Ere at last a sweet reprieve from
the curse of ol' Captain Cuckold!" Laughter filled the room, even Robert, Quartermaster and the
AH HA! It turns out I didn't just make that shit up AND I used it totally correctly...I have no idea when I picked that term up or where I heard it....)

Captain's friend gave a chuckle. {Again, it's interesting sentences standing alone, but the
story....where...when. This is souless}
"Alright, boys, let us go up and catch wind of this." Robert on his feet, and first topside,
the whole crew seemed to begin to gather and congress. {confusing} Robert glanced over his
shoulder, only to catch the Captain retreating into the quarterdeck. {not confusing} "Not 'ere, or
e'er does he neglect duty." {very very confusing...}
Down from the helm, Pilot called. "Not 'ere or e'er has he known the touch of a lass!" A
ruckus of laughter and boisterous collusion to the derision[] {I'm going to take away your
thesaurus if you don't stop. You can have it back at the end of class} of the fearless man who'd
made them bold and fortune. "Oi! Robert! Be our champion, aye? A long year we've followed
the boss, and not once 'as he let us slip away in the night! We haven't seen port in a month and
my boys are heavy and low! This cheer is what we need, aye?"
"Aye, I'll go up. You know what this man will say, though! Let us go and see what will
become of it!" A rap on the door and a muffled call. {<- POV seems broken} As Robert slipped
inside he caught the Captain putting away chart and sextant. {[INNUENDOS INTENSIFY]}
"What can I do for you, Robert?" {needs something here or...} Sitting down at his table,
giving him a nod. {IT'S BROKEN TENSE/FRAGMENT}
"You see sir, the men and I were speaking, and well.. {missing period} I know you can
hear this song sir. How it grows and the sweet wind that carries it. Well sir, I was implored to ask
you if we should..{missing period}" {people don't talk like thisleast of all Pirates who are
basically illiterate retards with diseases and super aids.}
"No. We're back on course and we won't dawdle. These men's lusts can wait. {strange
transitionfeels unnatural; consider breaking quotes into two and giving action} Tea?"
NIGGA ELPISIS POINTS ARE THREE DOTS THREE FUCKING DOTS NOT TWO!!!
"Uhh..[] Y..[] No, sir! I'm sorry but I must protest! We 'ave not seen land in a month and it finds
us at last. What would a couple nights liberty harm?" It was met with the clinking of a tea service
and wroth green eyes. {I seriously haven't a damn clue what I'm reading to be honest. I need
booze.}
"Silence this nonsense, Robert! What has come over you! {totally wouldn't talk this way.
You've just raped my brain with shit 'ike thi's 'may'tee and 'now 'yee 'fukken usin' 'nurmal
'talk....} You catch a whiff and lose your senses? We needs be back in Barbados. You'll have
leave then." Dismissing him with a wave, he spooned molasses into his tea. {This type of action
or similar should into the above paragraph where I noted}
"I'm sorry sir, but I needs trump this, sir." Heat {what?} and argument were quenched by
the sudden call of a ship to port. They both rushed out to
deck to see the crew
gathered, eyes locked on the horizon. The captain pulled out his spyglass {it's called a telescope
you uncultured swine!} and sneezed at the sweet scent of the air that wafted into his nostrils as
he turned to face where all eyes were fixed. {this sentence is ...janky ...too long} She was listing
hard, and her aft bobbed as if she had run hard into some hidden reef. {[INNUENDOS
INTENSIFY]}

"Alas, my boys! It seems fortune has found us!" Collapsing the glass {*cough* scope},
with a furrowed {That's it. See me after class!} brow he turned to face his crew again. "Grab
cordage and jacob's ladder! Pilot! Hard to port! Bring us near, and free of that reef! Huzzah!
Make ready ye hounds of hell's fire!" His stride long. {fragmentobnoxious style you've chosen
this isn't the first time I've pointed this out} Frame gaunt and lanky. He made for the forecastle,
not wanting to seem over eager, and spied again at his catch. {FYI I haven't a fuck damn clue
what any of this ship talk is.} Her Spanish colors {what colors are these? Green White Red?
Seems strangely out of place in the middle of the fucking ocean} and frame all the more plain the
nearer they drew.{Paragraph when!?} His men a flurry of activity above and below quickened
his spirits and he smote {nope} his breast. "I'll flog any man from here to London who fires
without a word!" The ransom for such a catch could pay more than any cargo seized. A risk they
could not take. {What risk? I mean, I'm not a retard, but you shouldn't make me have to infer
what you're talking about} No, it would be lashings and beatings, but quarter for the officers. It
was a sour taste in his mouth, these Spaniards.
The nearer they sailed, the more certain [CERTAINTY INTENSIFIES] the Captain had
been they approached unseen, but as he witnessed man after man leap from the deck and make
for land, a mile from where she bobbed, yet still afloat, an uneasiness took him. His crew poised
to strike, coiled as serpents, marveled at what they witnessed as they neared.

{Time out: So I realized I was TOTALLY lost because I was cutting my reading in half splicing
these colorful FUCK YOUs in...so I decided to backup and read it top down on reddit. Yeah,
no...I still haven't a clue what's really happening...}
"Madness." {sparta}
The air grew sweeter and song louder as the silhouette of a lone island bobbed against the stars.
{This is the first poetic thing I've said "alright" to} The night sky clear and crisp with autumn's
sweet kiss. {<--and then this train wreck} The Captain knew what hour had come, and old myth
and rhyme from his youth simmered behind his eyes. {But you're not going to tell us, so it's
irrelevant} Those green orbs fixated on the insanity he now faced. A song so sweet, that by it's

{BY IT IS} lulling cry a crew would be lost eternal. {wtf does that mean} A sharp
finger pointed to the Pilot, his voice aflame with the authority of his command. "Pilot! Hard to
starboard! We will be gone from this cursed place!" Robert aghast, {this isn't a screen playthis
type of description doesn't work in this context} he spun on his heels to face his old friend and
companion.
"Sir! There's men in the water! That ship is ours should we will it!" The drone and grunt
of approval from every man who had an ear. {same shit...tsh tsh tsh...different day paragraph}
"You see the docks! The lights! Hear the harp? These fools have run aground and we will
take our liberty!" The Pilot grinned, holding his course. {I'm sure whatever badassery is going on
is your head is awesome. Unfortunately, it's in your head....}
"Aye, Robert!"
"What dock? What light, you damned fool?! Seduced the lot of you by
this Siren's song! I will not be devoured lest I set on hell's furnace! Get us gone from here Pilot!"
He took the tone of a demon himself, a hand on the hilt of his rapier {[INNUENDOS

INTENSIFY]} he glared icy death at his men about him. {So fucking purple and yet it says
NOTHING} They'd begun {TENSE} to circle about him now, eyes glazed as glass int{BREAKmE-B-B-B-REAK ME...wait was that Katy Perry son Break or Take? I think it was Take...I'm
going to listen........it was Take but seriously, you have a strange space here between int and he}
he moonlight.
The sweet scent {repetitious} and song of promise heavy as musk.
Robert glowered and held up a hand. "Sir, I veto this decision. {IT'S A FUCKING
DICTATOR**SHIP**}We shall go make liberty here and restock our holds. We've played this
game long enough!" The raucous aye's and yells of approval rose through the night, reaching the
very heavens. {nPurple(n^2)me} A lust filled these men, {[INNUENDOS INTENSIFY]}but not
for blood or booty. {[INNUENDOS INTENSIFY]}. Much baser. Visceral. There was naught to
be done, and he would not be caught by this mutinous lot. {paragraph} Quick as a cat, pistol
unseen now came forth and leveled square at Robert's brow. The flash and spark of fire like
lightning as a spray of red mist, bone and grey chunk stained and struck every man in a stone's
throw from where they had stood. As Robert's body fell back with it's

{WITH IT

IS} sickening thud against the wood of the deck {Comma} it was the jolt {what?} that put
down the animal in the hearts of every man. Death unbidden but called for all the same.
"Pilot?" His word soft, like the cooing of a dove. {same issue. Same context}
"Aye, Sir. Hard to Starboard."

Yeah I don't have a damn clue what was happening really.