Laziness has no excuse. And that’s my excuse for not blogging. Also that my fertile mind was donating its eggs to other more important (I am hoping) things might be a reason.
Now we all know Uncle Murphy, who gave us slackers, procastinators, shirkers and other dodgy people a convenient set of excuses. Then of course, we have garnishing of things to blame like fate, alarm clock, siblings and for the more creative ones, aliens.
I am now adding my bits to Murphys list.
In the lift: If a building has 30 floors, the person wanting to get off on the first floor will be nestled comfortably at the back of the lift. As the lift approaches the first floor, a voice at reverberates of the various backs and chests and a faint “Excuse me” is heard. Much frenzied activity of shuffling feet, heaving body weight out of the elevator and settling back into original butt space will follow. This entire activity serves no purpose except leaving the person getting out sufficiently jostled and pushing the limits of bladder control of the people trying to get to the top floor.
Secrets: The one that you protect the most will be the one your neighbor is discussing. The neighbor will also point fingers angrily at you and gesticulate wildly. Occasionally, they may throw looks of sympathy your way. Stare back in suspicion in such cases.
Google: By the time you figure out what search words will get you the right links, the words have lost all meaning and you have lost purpose. Kill yourself. An aimless life isn’t worth living.
Food and crushes: When you are out on a first date with a guy you have been trying to flash only to get his attention, you will
a) Drop ketchup on your white shirt. You will try to hurriedly try to wipe it away, effectively spreading the redness evenly across the shirt. A dot on the nipple should make you a picture of perfection.
b) Have a soft drink that makes you burp or fart.
c) Get something green or brown stuck in your teeth. A minute of silence for the death of the first kiss please.
Women and driving: When you are trying to prove to someone that women aren’t bad drivers, you will narrowly miss the mammoth truck on the right and hit a lamppost. The lady honking at your from the opposite side on the one-way street will add to the amusement of the proceedings.
Blog: Invariably when you pose a question to your readers (assuming you have some), no one will reply. I dare you to retort.