The eggcorns keep tumbling from the in-tray:
I’m surprised you haven’t published this one yet. I used to work in a methadone clinic with folks who were quite low on the socioeconomic ladder. On more than one occasion, someone would talk about how sad they were feeling about a family member or friend who was struggling with “ole’ timer’s disease” instead of Alzheimer’s. I never had the heart to correct them and always found it a little charming.
Somewhat less charming:
My roommate believes that Nazis saluting the fuehrer proclaimed “Hi Hitler!”
Another:
Right after I read your post about eggcorns, I came across this in last Sunday’s NY Times magazine feature about Lena Dunham:
Passers-by routinely stopped to say hello and sputter out praise. “Thank you so much,” Dunham said again and again — to a middle-aged black woman; to a tanned and slender young blonde who, in a rather brilliant malapropism, said, “I’d be remorse if I didn’t stop and say how much I love your work” …
One of many more:
I know it’s probably too late, but I couldn’t keep my eggcorn in any longer.
Growing up I thought the phrase “ends meet” was actually “end’s meat”. I assumed that the end of the meat was the cheapest cut, so I thought that the phrase referred to people who were in such dire straits that they couldn’t even afford “end’s meat.”
Another:
I once had a coworker who would frequently say we “need to get our ducks on the road.” No one ever corrected her. Too much enjoyment came from it.
Another:
I think this student may have misheard something in a lecture on Hobbes. His essay contained the immortal “In the state of nature, people were nasty, British, and short.”
Another:
I’m really enjoying this thread of eggcorns. My contribution: Until I was 10 or so, I always thought it was a “bow-a-movement” instead of a “bowel movement”, since you usually bowed when on the pot.
Another:
My wife, despite numerous corrections (which are dangerous to my health), continues to refer to Silicon Valley as Silicone Valley. I’ve tried to point out that Silicone Valley is probably more Hollywood than San Francisco.
Another:
I work in research and used to transcribe some of the interviews I did. Sometimes some answers are a nice “segue to the next question,” but it took me years to finally realize that it has nothing to do with segway – which is how I spelled it, since I had always assumed the stupid two-wheel transportation thing is just a namesake.
Another:
When I was a young girl and very into dinosaurs, I thought that they had been wiped out by a “giant meat-eater,” never having heard of a meteor. I pictured a King Kong-sized T-Rex running around eating all of the other dinosaurs. The truth came out when I decided to do a school project on dinosaur extinction. My parents thought it was adorable.
One more:
Every year on Christmas Eve my mom would prepare a huge family dinner that included filet mignon. As a kid this sounded like “flaming yon” which made perfect sense – I thought “yon” was a type of meat, and you had to cook it, hence the “flaming” part.
Follow the whole trail of eggcorns here.
The Dish 