A Mystery Of Murderous Distortions (standard:humor, 901 words)
Author: Godspenman	Added: May 27 2017	Views/Reads: 1856/1367	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Being happy with yourself on the inside is much better than being happy with yourself on the outside.

I do not want to alarm anyone – I'm not wound that tight – but there is
a devious conspiracy in our country. A conspiracy of murderous 
distortions. 

To be quite honest about all this, I was not the first to notice this
conspiracy. In fact, it is quite unusual for me to notice anything 
first. As all husbands know, the husband is the last to know . . . 
anything. 

It was the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage who first become aware of
this conspiracy and brought it to my attention. Don't ask me how she 
does it, for I do not know. I just wish I knew her secret. My wife is 
the first to notice everything. 

Let me give a few examples. My wife was the first one to notice that we
were going together as a couple. She was the first to notice that we 
were engaged to be married. She was the first to know that we were 
getting married and when. 

Back to the conspiracy. 

Several weeks ago, my wife and I took a few days off and stole away to
the romantic town of St. Augustine for some R&R&R, (Rest, Relaxation 
and Reading) the three most important pursuits of mankind. 

I like St. Augustine because it is the only thing I know older than most
of my neckties. 

Someone once said, “Either come apart and rest awhile or you will simply
come apart.” 

As one who has come apart several times, I know it to be true.
Therefore, my wife and I, just before “coming apart,” take off and get 
outta Dodge. 

One afternoon we decided to take in the local mall. I say “we” only in
the loosest sense of the word. Personally, I would rather hit my thumb 
with a hammer than spend an afternoon at the mall. 

When you are as happily married as I am (knock on wood), there are those
little sacrifices that must be made. That's just the kind of husband I 
am. 

The fact of the matter is, I joyfully accompanied my wife to the mall.
About halfway through our afternoon at the mall, we sat down in a small 
coffee shop to enjoy a cup of Joe together. 

Nothing relaxes me more than spending $6 for a .59-cent cup of coffee. 

It was while we were enjoying our coffee that my astute wife made an
observation. 

Actually, it struck me out of left field, if I can be honest about it. I
was too busy grumbling about the cost of the coffee to take notice of 
what was happening around me at the time. 

“Look at those people,” my wife whispered confidentially to me. “Look at
how they are dressed.” 

Frankly, I did not know what in the world she was referring to but I
looked in the direction she was indicating. 

When it comes to fashion, I don't make a statement. My idea of fashion
rests on two simple facts. Does it fit and can I afford it? 

I'm a rather happy-go-lucky kind of guy when it comes to clothing. Where
in the Constitution of the United States does it say that a person has 
to wear matching socks? 

However, women, wives in particular, have a different sense about all
this. 

“Why would anyone,” she continued, ignoring my blissful ignorance on the
subject, “leave their home dressed like that?” 



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