Stop that!

As everyone who has even a passing fleeting impression of me knows, I am a poor typist and even poorer speller. I suppose I could do something about this but my natural inclination is towards laziness.
My spoken command of English on the other hand is dandy. I can be as prolix and tediously discursive and the next jackass when I see fit. But mostly I say what I mean and I try to say it as clearly as possible.
I had a meeting this morning in a fancy pants hotel with the...well I don't know what to call her, so I"m going to call her 'skanky bitch from hell with too much make-up and 'orrible , nasty jingling bangles in a too sort skirt with even more 'orrible knobbly knees'.
Hummm, too much of a mouthful, so wench will have to do.
Anyhoo, the wench was talking and telling me her...er, captive party, what her 'ambitions for the project were.'
I sat with a pen in my hand waiting for her to actually make a point, any salient point at all. I waited and I watched her bony wrists wave back and forth like pampas grass in a strong breeze. I leaned back in my seat and as my eyes were beginning to glaze over I heard this..'of course with the last person there was a disconnect, so we...'
I shot bolt upright, startling her,and indeed myself in the process. She had poked the tiger with a pointy stick.
I don't have a lot of pet hates: my mother, ill fitting shoes, cat sick, the harpy down stairs, bad manners- all right I do. But a teeth clencher for me is when people turn perfectly good nouns into verbs. It actually makes my blood bubble and boil.
'You what?' I said, 'What is a disconnect?'
She frowned and blinked, 'I...what do you mean?'
'I mean what is a disconnect?'
'Well, it's you know, when there has been a break down of ideas and-'
'OHHHHH,' I said in a dramatic and no doubt irritating fashion. 'A disconnection! Well, why didn't you say so?'
Again with the frowning. I smiled innocently.
She carried on-a touch more warily and I jotted notes down here and there, and then she said...''What we really need to do is think outside the box on this one, because if we...'
I sighed, she twitched. But then-stout heart- she carried on with considerably more arm waving. Three minutes later she sprang this...'Let's progress this and chart out how to...' on me.
Progress this?
I gave her the eye, she ignored me with blithe indifference.
At that point both of my eyebrows were packing a suitcase and threatening to leave. I was waiting for liberal uses of Ockhams razor or paradigm shift to float to the surface like the crap filled words they are, when somehow she came to a stuttering juddering halt.
'Well?' said she, eyeing me cautiously. 'What do you think of the game plan?'
'I think it is magnificent.' I said.
She beamed at me. I beamed at her.
We ordered more coffee.
When all is said and done, I may grumble and snap like any cur, but I will not bite the hand that feeds me.
I am not that stupid.