What a sip is a sip of gossip?!: Just for laughs 

The loose-tongued raconteur may not be perturbed by Alexander Pope’s remark that: “All seems yellow to the jaundiced eye.” For if he’s got a nose for news and teeth that can bite, he’d more than revel in a rosy revelation, than in a plateful of the good food. 

Garbage, they say, is the content of gossip. But apparently, there’s more fun in the fodder than food for thought. Gossips have always walked the face of the earth, and talked too. Plunging their tongues in the thickets of scandal and spreading it over like a breakfast knife would a spoonful of butter. Tongues that wag usually have a cat out of the bag. 

Oscar Wilde once said: “I love scandals about other people, but scandals about myself don’t interest me. They have not that charm of novelty.” If great men think nothing of gossiping, who could blame the neighbourhood housewife for indulging in a harmless little exchange. 

Secrets, they say, are confidentially told and confidently spread. And once the story gets around the kitty circuit, there’s an added dimension that finds itself between every new ear and tongue and tongue and ear. Communications, itself, has its own disadvantages: “I know you believe you understand what you think I said. But I am not sure you realise that what you heard is not what I meant.” 

Pardon me, this doesn’t matter to the disseminator of mundane gossip. For if you don’t believe your own ears, go ahead and believe the other’s ears.