Murphy: The Eighth Dwarf

Today, being Friday the 13th, I thought I would "ode" to its brilliant existence. What better way to celebrate than with a list of, "Things I learned today!" (Note the exclamation point... and explore the possibility of it being a punctuated outlet for sarcastic inhibition).

1. The fear of Friday the 13th is called Paraskavedekatriaphobia. No. I'm not making this up.

2. My first name, Mallory, originated in France and directly translates into "Unlucky". You think I'm kidding. (Just another reason to hate the French. It's a bittersweet complicated relationship, and even with counseling, it doesn't look good.)

4. My last name, Hurst, on the other hand means woodland hill or grove. Which has a completely pleasant, fairytale undertone. Thank you first name for screwing that up. And also for giving me an irrational and highly irreversible development of Hylophobia.

5. The man who made a pass at me the other day was in fact Warren Jeffs. Apparently his thirteenth wife just left him. No thank you. Also, FYI Warren, I was not impressed with the unenthusiastic manner in which you bolstered the audacity to tarnish my once shiny soul. I found it pitiless and vindictive. (Or at least my thesaurus did, I think originally I found it mean and hurtful)
It's okay Flora, I said No. You're STILL the most attractive of the wives.

6. Murphy's Law was initiated on Friday, October 13, 1913, when a large iron fell out of a tree and landed on Murph's head (Also the birth place of the term "Irony"). Which, depending on if you followed the link, may or may not be true.

6.1. I am a frequent on Murphy’s "To Do" list. I mean, come on man! (or woman as I am inclined to believe) Maybe Murphy's Law is God's way of getting back at you for all the little sins you commit, you know, like making fun of polygamist sects.
Side note: I don't know WHY the term "making fun" has such a negative connotation.

Regardless...In light of number 6.1., and in reflecting on the impact it has had on my otherwise cheerful nature, I have made a rather monumental decision. In the name of correct analogies and direct correlations, I imagined into existence Murphy: The All Encompassing Eighth Dwarf. A distant cousin to both Oscar the Grouch and Eeyore.
That way, in the future, when I’m trying to relate my disposition to that of one of the seven dwarves I am not limited to Sleepy, Dopey, Grumpy, Bashful, Happy, Sneezy or Doc. And now, neither are you. You’re welcome.

God Bless you and your shiny soul. May Warren Jeff's never meet you.