MYOB? No Way!
Natalie has decided to mind other people’s business in an effort to deflect
evil spirits bad things from happening to her. You see, the way she puts it:
I realized today how often the act of simply minding your own business tends to set off a series of most unfortunate events. Think about it – some of the worst stories of Things Gone Wrong begin with the sentiment, “There I was, minding my own business…” and is invariably followed by something so horrific that you nearly swallow your uvula.
Heh. I must be dyslexic. Every time I read the word uvula, I really see and think vulva…. I chuckled when I first read what she wrote because I thought it said “…is invariably followed by something so horrific that you nearly swallow your vulva.” Wait, swallow your… Eh, never mind.
So now that I’ve been notified that Natalie is minding my
vulva business, I’ve noted some items that she shouldn’t care about and/or are none of her business:
- I’ve been in the office since about 11am today but haven’t done much. I even went out for lunch with the tech guys in the office next door at noon.
- We ate pasta and bread, and drank Pepsi. Every one us plans an afternoon nap in our respective offices. Now, I know this would be more interesting if we napped in the same office, but I’m not like that.
- I stayed home sick on Monday, but wasn’t. Nor did I inform anyone I was doing so.
- Mel and I are trying to figure out why we have headless birds in our yard in the vicinity of the bird feeder. Mel pulled the third one from Molly’s mouth today, but doesn’t believe that Molly killed any birds or ate their heads.
- I am rather loud during sex.
- We intentionally allow our dogs to bark at some people while pretending otherwise.
- I am going to suck up to the next door neighboors by giving them homemade strawberry jam
- In our house, the wearing of underwear in bed is not allowed. Nude, or sleep shirts only to avoid constriction and facilitate proper air flow. It’s the law.
- Mel is fifty pages from the end of the fifth Harry Potter book. She is not allowed to tell me who died. Neither is anyone else.
- Whenever I burp or fart, I blame the dogs.
- Mel and I will periodically ‘mark’ the yard when we don’t feel we can make it to the bathroom (on the second floor in the rear of the house). We have a spot. We also think it keeps the dogs on their toes and that they respect us for it.