OK! I'll talk about the kind of person who obsessively talks about breasts and sex! I have a theory about such people: they are under-sexed.
Competing theories are possible, of course. They could be narcissists who know that talking about such things obsessively will have a positive effect on the 'ol site meter.
But I'm going with under-sexed. Could it be more obvious?
OK! I'll talk about the kind of person who obsessively talks about people who talk about breasts and sex! I have a theory about such people: they are under-brained.
Competing theories are possible, of course. They could be narcissists who know that talking about such things obsessively will have a positive effect on their weak self-esteem.
But I'm going with under-brained. Could it be more obvious?
Here's the first thing that I thought of when I saw another picture of flowers on the Althouse web site: I'm no fan of flowers. I know...they're beautiful, colorful, and so forth. But to me, they're downers and I hate the smell of them when they're brought indoors.
I thought that I was the only person who felt this way until this morning, after worship. We generally don't have flowers on the altar at our church, but did last Sunday, leftovers from a wedding I performed on Saturday.
The mother of the bride said, "This past Thursday, I thought about the spray of flowers we left after my daughter's wedding and I was concerned that they were still here smelling up the place...Because I hate the smell of flowers. They remind me of funerals."
"That's funny," I told her. "That's the same connection I make with them and why I can't stand to have them around."
It's not that I deny death. It's a reality. But after years of doing funerals, flowers are so strongly connected to death that they are an unwelcome reminder. I'm always glad when families of the deceased say, "Send no flowers. Instead, contribute to the American Cancer Society..." or some such cause.
I especially hate lilies on Easter Sunday because the blasted things stink up the joint. The only flowers I care for are red geraniums and I do enjoy seeing them in our sanctuary on Pentecost Sunday.
Other than that, I'm not into flowers, really.
Neurotic, to be sure. But this morning, I found out that I'm not the only person who's neurotic about this.
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15 comments:
This would make a very challenging jig saw puzzle.
OK! I'll talk about the kind of person who obsessively talks about breasts and sex! I have a theory about such people: they are under-sexed.
Competing theories are possible, of course. They could be narcissists who know that talking about such things obsessively will have a positive effect on the 'ol site meter.
But I'm going with under-sexed. Could it be more obvious?
Hmmm...but what to think of a person fixated on a relative stranger's sex life...?
OK! I'll talk about the kind of person who obsessively talks about people who talk about breasts and sex! I have a theory about such people: they are under-brained.
Competing theories are possible, of course. They could be narcissists who know that talking about such things obsessively will have a positive effect on their weak self-esteem.
But I'm going with under-brained. Could it be more obvious?
What kind of camera do you use, Ms. Althouse?
Here's the first thing that I thought of when I saw another picture of flowers on the Althouse web site: I'm no fan of flowers. I know...they're beautiful, colorful, and so forth. But to me, they're downers and I hate the smell of them when they're brought indoors.
I thought that I was the only person who felt this way until this morning, after worship. We generally don't have flowers on the altar at our church, but did last Sunday, leftovers from a wedding I performed on Saturday.
The mother of the bride said, "This past Thursday, I thought about the spray of flowers we left after my daughter's wedding and I was concerned that they were still here smelling up the place...Because I hate the smell of flowers. They remind me of funerals."
"That's funny," I told her. "That's the same connection I make with them and why I can't stand to have them around."
It's not that I deny death. It's a reality. But after years of doing funerals, flowers are so strongly connected to death that they are an unwelcome reminder. I'm always glad when families of the deceased say, "Send no flowers. Instead, contribute to the American Cancer Society..." or some such cause.
I especially hate lilies on Easter Sunday because the blasted things stink up the joint. The only flowers I care for are red geraniums and I do enjoy seeing them in our sanctuary on Pentecost Sunday.
Other than that, I'm not into flowers, really.
Neurotic, to be sure. But this morning, I found out that I'm not the only person who's neurotic about this.
Mark Daniels
PS: I also hate organ music.
Mark Daniels said...
I also hate organ music.
AMEN!
Yet another 'talk-amongst-yourselves' Linda-Richman-type post in the past several days... What could Althouse be up to??
Ruth Anne, I think she's all verklempt that Barry Bonds didn't break the record at Miller Park.
Great! We can talk about Harry Potter! With the seventh book out, we have finally learned that Snape was really....
It looks like a little fairy should be flying out of the grass at just any second. :)
And Mr. Daniels -- what about sweet pea? Have you never seen/smelled sweet pea? LOL Surely that one would change your mind.
And I'm with Ruth Anne again --
"Althouse -- in the middle of packing for Brooklyn or just waiting on a tantalizing story?
Discuss!"
You should have guessed: I was out walking the golf course, watching my nephew at the U.S. Bank Championship.
I'm sorry he didn't have a better final day. Still he finished below par. Something to be proud of!
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