Laws of Attraction!

Murphy’s Law. Things that need to go wrong, will go wrong in due time. What is wrong, and what is right, and what is rightfully wrong, and wrongfully right is not for us to decide, but then, we are the Lords of our own Being! Screw you, Murphy. Muhuhuhahaha!
In the middle of all this hubbub regarding right and wrong, let’s take some time out invoke the Almighty’s blessing with the means of a prayer. Oh, wait, that might go wrong. I have a FEELING that something might go wrong. Let’s not. Let’s all be atheists and live in cautious apathy all our lives! Sounds like a plan! High-five, slap on the back, a smirk and an iron-handshake (with an unsaid wiggle of the huge backside)! Congratulations, you’ve mastered the art of the Kiung-fiung-jiung handshake.
Coming back to the point, Murphy’s Law. Who is this Murphy fellow anyway, and WHY on earth is he such a pessimist? I bet something really tragic happened when he was teeny-tiny, and that kind of scarred him for the rest of his, and our, blessed lifetime. Piss the pain away, Murphy. Piss it away.
Murphy’s Law has a weird way of working. It claims that bad things tend to slyly creep up right behind you and poke you in the rib and stick its tongue out at you and say “Looooossserrrr”, and here’s the cherry on the cake- All this, when you’re already expecting them to happen! Jesus! I mean, how sad is this, eh? You know you’re going to fall into a pit of mould and rotten leftover broth, and you do! Yeah, because THAT makes me feel like an augur! Ta-daa! Magic! *All my wishes have come true, and I am dreamy eyed*. Oh, give me a break. Seriously.
Let me now tell you a story. It’s one of those fairy tales, you see. Enchanting.
Once upon a time, there lived Mr. Murphy. Mr. Murphy came back home from work and sat down to read the newspaper. Mr. Murphy tried reading the paper, but Mr. Murphy was certain that something was going to go wrong. He was sure of the fact that the paper was going to deceive his instincts and his abilities and that the newspaper was going to push-and-pull his sensory endowments and make him go crazy. He also felt that something else was going to happen-something dark, evil and downright sleazy!
And so, it happened. As Mr. Murphy sipped his faithful cup of coffee, and tried to swallow the chunks of news thrown at him by the tabloid, his mind went blank. A draft hit his empty head and his head was diagnosed as suffering from pneumonia. Okay, that was a slight exaggeration. (Or, not) The letters in the newspaper seemed to lose their form and were mingling into one huge blob of black, in a conspiracy against him. They seemed like daggers and swords, waging a dirty war against him! Eeeesh! He blamed it on irresponsible media and turned another page. This time, the words danced all over the page and he was convinced it was magic! Another page convinced him of his having bought a foreign newspaper. Yes, it was BAD. Never before were his levels of comprehension this low. They seemed to have hit rock-bottom and were sinking lower and lower with each turn of the page. At one point, Murphy was convinced that the words had formed a chain and were parading naked around the room only to imitate a snake and scare him away. Not only was their structure eerie, but so was their content! The enormity of language intimidated him for the very first time! Animalistic tendencies overtaking the multifarious supersonicamorous retrodynamic shmooglecapability savannahanimalharrowingmadness. Ha. Beat that!
Unable to grasp the intensity of the insanity that left him indisposed, Murphy went on to the nicer things in life-Mrs. Murphy. Mrs. Murphy, a shrewd nagging man of a lady had a lot of issues. The moment he went to cuddle up to her, and tell her that he loved her, she kicked Murphy out of the house. Murphy always knew this was going to happen the day he decided to get married to her. He ignored this premonition and believed in goodness, who, eventually, betrayed his balls. Hence, Murphy justified himself by saying that ‘Aal was well’ and that he always KNEW something was going to go haywire, but he didn’t mind taking the goddamned plunge. So much for chivalry.
With nothing more to do, and with the intent of venting, Murphy Macho sat down to work. Unable to concentrate, and unable to get that ‘wet’ feeling out of himself, he decided to do something for the well-being of the society at large. He created the Murphy’s Laws. He also added that the Murphy Laws adhere to positive and cheerful situations as well, but like that’s going to happen!
Murphy, Murphy. Darling Murphy, what have you got against us poor souls? So, you had a bad day, so you had a bad marriage. Tsk, tsk, does that mean you get all charged and come up with a wacky theory that rules the life of many later on? The other day, I had a feeling I was going to inflate, like a balloon, and roam the skies. Naah, honey, it was sheer gas.
Then again, I look around, and I see Murphy Man ruling the psyche of many a person! The other day, a Prof said “You guys have come late, I expected this. Murphy’s Law”. Eh? What the hell? You don’t need Murphy to tell you that a bunch of guys in any class, at any time, will be late. How fancy can a man get?
Annnyyyway, Murphy, it was nice knowing you. You might be right you know. For instance, I have a vague feeling, and there’s an imminent possibility, of this article being thrown into the trash by whosoever reads it. It probably will. But, whether or not Murphy Man’s law works is for the reader to decide. Come on, you, let’s prove Murphy Man wrong! ;)