On Ownership and Accusations
Dear Mr. OR,
The strangest thing has been happening around the Lumpy residence lately. It began with a new attempt at spot concentration as you had suggested earlier. The Beast has taken to doing everything in its power lately to make noise. Now as you well know the Lumpy does not handle noise very well. So too settle myself down and find a quite happy place I took a seat in my favorite chair and looked for a spot on my wall. I have in fact been practicing this process while in my box at work and have gained some proficiency with the technique. Upon finding the spot I concentrated until the whole rest of the world went away. It was wonderful. I found myself surrounded by pleasant thoughts of... Anyways.
What I failed to realize is the vulnerable position that this puts me in. I was in fact ripped from this happy place by the solid thump of The Beast plummeting from a distance above my head directly onto my lap. Needless to say I was shocked. When did The Beast learn to fly? I had never even seen it walk on its own much less soar around the room. And then the noise came flooding in like tidal wave and I quickly became aware of Mrs. Lumpy standing next to me shouting at the top of her lungs. At first I was so upset about the onslaught of noise that I had difficulty making out what she was saying but with another second or two I would be totally flabbergasted. Here stood my wife, my darling bride, Mrs. Lumpy, who had warned me of the upcoming invasion, yelling at the top of her lungs how The Beast was My Beast. In fact she accused me of desiring one of these little monsters and then went so far as to say that I had been petitioning for one and actively attempting to locate one. Why the idea was so preposterous that I didn't think it required comment. How absurd that any man leading a quiet life style full of leisure and intellectual activity would actually seek out the demise of his cherished life style by employing a monster. I dare say that if anyone invited The Beast it would have to be Mrs. Lumpy. Why she told me of The Beast before I even new there was such a thing. Of course pointing this fact out to her only enraged her further.
In the end Mrs. Lumpy decided she was going to sit in my favorite chair and forced me to carry The Beast around the house in the hope that we could get it to stop making so much noise. For a second it occurred to me that this would be an opportune time to begin working with the devices of torture I had spent so much money on but alas they are in the same room as my beloved chair and my wife would never allow such activity within her presence. The only good I can say came from all of this is that I had time to think and begin plotting my next move. I will write shortly to discuss the outcomes. I remain always;
Respectfully yours,
The Lumpy
The strangest thing has been happening around the Lumpy residence lately. It began with a new attempt at spot concentration as you had suggested earlier. The Beast has taken to doing everything in its power lately to make noise. Now as you well know the Lumpy does not handle noise very well. So too settle myself down and find a quite happy place I took a seat in my favorite chair and looked for a spot on my wall. I have in fact been practicing this process while in my box at work and have gained some proficiency with the technique. Upon finding the spot I concentrated until the whole rest of the world went away. It was wonderful. I found myself surrounded by pleasant thoughts of... Anyways.
What I failed to realize is the vulnerable position that this puts me in. I was in fact ripped from this happy place by the solid thump of The Beast plummeting from a distance above my head directly onto my lap. Needless to say I was shocked. When did The Beast learn to fly? I had never even seen it walk on its own much less soar around the room. And then the noise came flooding in like tidal wave and I quickly became aware of Mrs. Lumpy standing next to me shouting at the top of her lungs. At first I was so upset about the onslaught of noise that I had difficulty making out what she was saying but with another second or two I would be totally flabbergasted. Here stood my wife, my darling bride, Mrs. Lumpy, who had warned me of the upcoming invasion, yelling at the top of her lungs how The Beast was My Beast. In fact she accused me of desiring one of these little monsters and then went so far as to say that I had been petitioning for one and actively attempting to locate one. Why the idea was so preposterous that I didn't think it required comment. How absurd that any man leading a quiet life style full of leisure and intellectual activity would actually seek out the demise of his cherished life style by employing a monster. I dare say that if anyone invited The Beast it would have to be Mrs. Lumpy. Why she told me of The Beast before I even new there was such a thing. Of course pointing this fact out to her only enraged her further.
In the end Mrs. Lumpy decided she was going to sit in my favorite chair and forced me to carry The Beast around the house in the hope that we could get it to stop making so much noise. For a second it occurred to me that this would be an opportune time to begin working with the devices of torture I had spent so much money on but alas they are in the same room as my beloved chair and my wife would never allow such activity within her presence. The only good I can say came from all of this is that I had time to think and begin plotting my next move. I will write shortly to discuss the outcomes. I remain always;
Respectfully yours,
The Lumpy
posted by Julia Reffner | Thursday, August 18, 2005
1 Comments:
Two words: Duct Tape. :-)
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