On Pavlov and His Parade of Marching Dobermen
Dear Mr. OR,
I have made a horrible mistake. I have slowly been working up to giving my wife my wallet so that she will leave the Beast with me and go away for several hours. This would give me the time necessary to do a thorough interrogation of the Beast. However; after recently having a conversation with a friend who informed me that it is possible to be invaded by a whole string of Beasts I was so unnerved that I allowed my wife to leave with the Beast after I handed her the majority of my life’s savings. When I finally recovered I decided that this was for the best as I could use the time to relax and enjoy myself. Now feeling unencumbered and enjoying the new found silence I quickly grabbed a drink, found a wonderful book by Fyodor Dostoyevsky, and retired to my favorite chair. An hour later I was asleep.
My dreams have been very fitful of late and this one was a full blown nightmare. My pleasant home had been invaded by no less than four Beasts of varying sizes, shapes, and genders. Some of them were even able to get around the place on their own. They would wander from room to room tearing and eating my precious books and knocking heirlooms off of tables where these fragile objects would plummet to their doom. My tidy kitchen became a mass of mangled pots and pans strewn with spices as if some large steal eating monster were preparing a great meal. And all the time I ran around after them changing their plastic bottoms and trying desperately to put things away. Why at one point I was chasing all for of them through the house as they wandered from room to room in a solid line of destruction causing limbs. Like a parade of Doberman in a china shop. When I awoke to my wife I was so elated to find it had all been a dream that I even kissed The Beast.
Then it happened. My wife brought out the things that she had bought and if I were a brighter man I would have seen my doom immediately. Alas I am not and it wasn't until my wife put batteries in one of the gadgets that I realized just how much trouble I was in. Where I have been unable to find the means The Beast uses to converse with its cronies, it has figured out a way that people converse with each other. What my wife showed me was a type of walkie talkie that was always on. One side allows a person to talk but not listen and the other side allows the person to listen but not talk. Although I could understand how such a device could be useful in some situations, kind of like a small scale intercom, I couldn't think of any reason why we would need one around the Lumpy residence.
My wife handed me the listen side which I accepted with curiosity. Then to my great dismay she handed The Beast the talk side. To my horror, as if on cue, The Beast began to scream and every vowel was coming through loud and clear through my side of the device only twice as loud. I immediately dropped the device and covered my ears running for the other room. My wife is a quick women; however, and had the device up in a flash and followed me around the house with it, laughing all the while, till I made it to my study where I slammed the door behind me and locked it. Although I could still hear the device just outside my door it was at least now muffled down to a tolerable volume. And now like one of Pavlov’s experiments I wander through my house doing whatever I feel like until my wife gets out that cursed device and then off I go to my study. I shall need to disable that device and right soon or risk becoming a prisoner in my own home. I remain always;
Respectfully Yours,
The Lumpy
I have made a horrible mistake. I have slowly been working up to giving my wife my wallet so that she will leave the Beast with me and go away for several hours. This would give me the time necessary to do a thorough interrogation of the Beast. However; after recently having a conversation with a friend who informed me that it is possible to be invaded by a whole string of Beasts I was so unnerved that I allowed my wife to leave with the Beast after I handed her the majority of my life’s savings. When I finally recovered I decided that this was for the best as I could use the time to relax and enjoy myself. Now feeling unencumbered and enjoying the new found silence I quickly grabbed a drink, found a wonderful book by Fyodor Dostoyevsky, and retired to my favorite chair. An hour later I was asleep.
My dreams have been very fitful of late and this one was a full blown nightmare. My pleasant home had been invaded by no less than four Beasts of varying sizes, shapes, and genders. Some of them were even able to get around the place on their own. They would wander from room to room tearing and eating my precious books and knocking heirlooms off of tables where these fragile objects would plummet to their doom. My tidy kitchen became a mass of mangled pots and pans strewn with spices as if some large steal eating monster were preparing a great meal. And all the time I ran around after them changing their plastic bottoms and trying desperately to put things away. Why at one point I was chasing all for of them through the house as they wandered from room to room in a solid line of destruction causing limbs. Like a parade of Doberman in a china shop. When I awoke to my wife I was so elated to find it had all been a dream that I even kissed The Beast.
Then it happened. My wife brought out the things that she had bought and if I were a brighter man I would have seen my doom immediately. Alas I am not and it wasn't until my wife put batteries in one of the gadgets that I realized just how much trouble I was in. Where I have been unable to find the means The Beast uses to converse with its cronies, it has figured out a way that people converse with each other. What my wife showed me was a type of walkie talkie that was always on. One side allows a person to talk but not listen and the other side allows the person to listen but not talk. Although I could understand how such a device could be useful in some situations, kind of like a small scale intercom, I couldn't think of any reason why we would need one around the Lumpy residence.
My wife handed me the listen side which I accepted with curiosity. Then to my great dismay she handed The Beast the talk side. To my horror, as if on cue, The Beast began to scream and every vowel was coming through loud and clear through my side of the device only twice as loud. I immediately dropped the device and covered my ears running for the other room. My wife is a quick women; however, and had the device up in a flash and followed me around the house with it, laughing all the while, till I made it to my study where I slammed the door behind me and locked it. Although I could still hear the device just outside my door it was at least now muffled down to a tolerable volume. And now like one of Pavlov’s experiments I wander through my house doing whatever I feel like until my wife gets out that cursed device and then off I go to my study. I shall need to disable that device and right soon or risk becoming a prisoner in my own home. I remain always;
Respectfully Yours,
The Lumpy
posted by Julia Reffner | Wednesday, September 14, 2005
13 Comments:
Lumpy:
Your wife has been infected with madness! It is not a good sign if she is laughing while chasing you through the house with a "Beast Voice Enhancer" - and it seems she may have somehow even communicated with the Beast to let it know how this magnifier works.
You should not have surrended your wallet to both the Beast and the Wife - choose one, either Beast or wife (preferrably wife), and then surrender the wallet.
If you time it just right, and send her off in just the right mood, she may use the money you give her at a store whose clothing might make the Lumpy very happy indeed. Alas! I warn you: if she does stop at one of these "Intriguing Clothing" shops, and the Lumpy does enjoy the clothing, another Beast invasion may be close at hand.....
I adore your vignettes!
You are a remarkably talented write, Sir Lumpy.
Long may you scribe!
(hangs head in shame at not catching spelling error. Meant "writer".)
I would very much like to spend time with your wife. She seems a delight. I am sure that the two of us would have a lot to talk about.
For now, you find solace in your study.
Soon that will not be the case. I must warn you.
Some parts of your horrible nightmare are indeed true. The Beast will soon walk and it will have the ability to open the door to your study itself.
Four beasts? Maybe that was a prophetic dream!
I was at the doc's and the hospital nearly ALL day and now I'm back at my hotel. My hubby gets here late tonight and I have surgery tomorrow morning.
I'll be back to posting at my site and visiting my internet "pen pals" by Sunday or Monday.
Enjoy your weekend!
Quint - Intriguing clothing shops indeed. The real question is how to get the wife in the right mood to shop there without me present as she has a bit of a drive to the nearest clothing shop.
Marti - Thank you very much for your kind words. I get a lot of encouragement from people like you. Thanks.
Toad - Yes I'll bet you would. I'm very concerned about the product of you two spending time together.
Jamie Dawn - There shall NEVER be four Beasts under the Lumpys roof while the Lumpy still draws breath.
We'll continue praying for your surgery and for a complete recovery. I'm sure all of your bloging pen pals (an excellent discription by the way, and I'm happy to be a member of that group) look forward to your return. May God Bless you and Keep you.
The Lumpy
I'll take the doberman's over the beasts, they don't live as long. :-)
I think that was not a dream at all but a glimpse of things to come Mr Scrooge! The future be told and now heed the warnings and take the bullets out of the gun :-D
And you should never let your wife go out alone with your wallet, what where you thinking? The are much worse devices that the"Beast Voice Enhancer" she could have gotten it the RBT or better known as the Rolling Beast Transporter. It allows them to move faster than the speed of Crash and knock of your toe nails with sniper accuracy.
I survived surgery and I'm hoping you have managed to keep The Beast under control.
Hello Mr Lumpy, I'm new here, but after having read your blog, I think I've finally found a site where I can confess a dark secret of mine. Only a man who lovingly refers to his offspring as The Beast would understandddd.
Back when my girls were verrrrry young, there were times when I just needed a break from their little loving selves. We had an acre and a half and a riding mower/tractor to keep the grass in check.
Every once in a while, when the fussing got to be too much, I'd turn the little darlings over to my hub and mow the lawn.
For hours.
One Sunday afternoon when they were really going at it...
hub and I actually raced each other to the lawnmower.
My four year old stood on the back porch with her hands on her hips, staring at us.
I came back, dejectedly. He won that round, but I would go on to find other ways to get him back. (g)
ahhhh, I hope the battery thing doesn't come back to haunt you in any more dreams!
Samantha - Indeed they don't live as long and they do their business out doors which is an extra added bonus.
honkeie2 - Oh dear me! Another voice proclaiming prophecy in my dreams. I shall have to pray very hard in an attempt to counter act all of this prophecying. Rolling Beast Transporter. Sounds absolutly dreadful. Indeed I will not be sending my wife out with unlimited access to our funds again if there is any chance that she will return with one of those.
Jamie Dawn - Under control is a phrase that leaves a large amount of room for interpretation. Let us simply say that I have survived and so has the Beast so in some regaurd our stale mate continues.
(On a personal note as the author - I'm glad to see you back from your surgery. I hope that it was successful in fixing your problems to your satisfaction.)
Village Idiot - Ah so good to hear from you. Indeed the do appear to have both walkies and talkies. As to what they may think of next my friend honkeie2 has recently informed me of a rolling transporter that has been made specifically for Beasts.
Laura - So very good to hear from you. I certainly understand the need to escape from the constant psychological warfare that the Beasts are able to wage against us but unfortunatly mowing the lawn is not an outlet that is open to the Lumpy. You see the Lumpy suffers from very very bad allergies as well as a decent case of asthema. The effect achieved from mowing the lawn is the equivalent of being strangled while headbanging at a Pantera concert. Although I understand some people like this feeling the Lumpy has found through several trial runs that it doesn't really suit him.
The Lumpy
First night alone with the bebe huh?...Love your take ;) Thanks for the visit! I'm going to go poke around a bit...P.S.The mail order bride was a farce...but the cards with all the nekkid women were fer real! Vegas...gotta love it...heh.
Little Beasts soon grow and take over all sanctuary's in the home and in the mind - so steal yourself for as long as you can because....its coming and you can't hide, not in the dark, not in the night, not in this world!!
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