Hello Mister Magpie
My wife is a scientist: she has a PhD in something or other from a proper University, has done her time at the bench (putting blue dye into little test tubes with a pipette, because that's what scientists spend all their time doing) and had papers published in proper academic journals.

She's an atheist and has no truck whatsoever with any kind of superstitious or supernatural nonsense.

Which is why I find it so funny when, on seeing a lone magpie, she recites to herself, "Hello Mr Magpie, how's your wife?" and tips her 'hat' to it. If she thinks I'm watching she does it under her breath and pretends to be scratching her nose or something, because she knows I'd take the piss out of her if I realised what she was doing.

But the funniest part is, she's bloody well got me doing it now. I think superstition is a load of old cobblers but I can't help myself. I don't even know what it's about!

FFS.
( reallywittyname veraciously conspues lexiphanicism on, Fri 16 Dec 2011, 14:11, 7 replies)

The stuff scientists put into test tubes with a pipette
is purple.

The blue stuff is what they use to test jam rags in adverts.
(username failed moderation, Fri 16 Dec 2011, 14:13, closed)

I'm similar
I read a book on superstitions in my formative years and now I can't see a lone magpie now without reciting "I crossed the magpie/The magpie crossed me/Bad luck to the magpie/Good luck to me" while crossing my thumbs. I have developed a fine art of being able to do this while driving and not making a sound so that my boyfriend doesn't know what I am doing.

I am 47 and have a PhD.
(BearWithLittleBrain, Fri 16 Dec 2011, 14:20, closed)

I thought you were supposed to spit...?
Anyway, card carrying atheist and all that and yet I cannot help touching some piece of wood (or my head ?!) whenever I use the phrase "touch wood". It annoys me that I do it, and yet try as I might I cannot stop doing it. Maybe the sky will fall on my head if I don't...or perhaps I'm just an irrational twat. Or both?
(Cheeselog is mostly water, Fri 16 Dec 2011, 14:25, closed)

ha ha I know this all too well
I take a leaf out of Neil Bohr's book:

An American scientist once visited the Copenhagen office of the Nobel Prize-winning physicist, Neils Bohr, and was amazed to find a horseshoe was nailed to the wall over his desk.

The American said with a nervous laugh, "Surely you don't believe that horseshoe will bring you good luck, do you, Professor Bohr?"

Bohr chuckled. "The clever thing is... I am told that it works whether you believe in it or not."
( The magic of chutney Shakes it like an Instagram filter!, Fri 16 Dec 2011, 14:28, closed)

I am a scientist
I worked with a very inteligent lady who was a triscadecaphobic (didn't like the no 13) to such an extent she...

Changed the spelling of her name so her 1st & 2nd names no longer had 13 letters

Didn't buy a a really nice car off a friend for a very good knock down price because the number plates numbers added up to 13

Missed out all multiples and instances of 13 when we numbered our experements (13, 26, & 113 etc)
(sittingduck Attention seeking, bullshitting fuck-knuckle, Fri 16 Dec 2011, 15:13, closed)

My mother
used to 'salute' lone magpies, as this wards off the sorrow. I couldn't help doing so too. When I got married, my wife pointed out that actually, to ward off the sorrow one has to touch ones collar.

For a period of some months I found myself having to do both, until it finally dawned on me what a load of pointless superstitious nonsense it all was!
( RiffRaff lurking like a lurky thing, Fri 16 Dec 2011, 16:00, closed)

This comes from the old magpie counting song...
If you see magpies, it's an omen of something:

One for sorrow
Two for joy
Three for a girl
Four for a boy
Five for silver
Six for gold
Seven for a secret never to be told

(As used by Magpie, the old ITV series.)

So, if you see a lone magpie, this is a sign of sorrow. By asking "where's your wife?" you imply the other half of the pair, changing it to an omen of joy.
( Amish Information Systems hates misplaced, commas, Mon 19 Dec 2011, 17:16, closed)