BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

A gentle reminder: I don’t just spout silliness here on this blog. I also write novels. Those are what put the bread on the table, but bread is just about it as far as that goes. My wife has to bring home the bacon (and broccoli, and eggs, and milk, and…) That’s not what this is about, however…

If you have read my official bio over on my regular “author type person” website then you have probably run across the part about us having a pair of rescued felines, both of whom I describe as “the competition.”

Why “the competition?” some have asked.

Easy. They’ve got a thing for The Supreme Redhead. Yeah… E K.

Now, I realize that sounds a bit paranoid, but let me tell you a story. A recent story, in fact, and not at all unusual around here with these furry lunatics.

Just the other night, E K was on the sofa, and Competition #1, AKA Asphalt (because we rescued him from the middle of a highway on-ramp) immediately climbed onto her lap. He does this every time she parks for more than two minutes. Yes… I can hear you now, “But, Murv, that’s normal for cats.”

Yeah… sure.

As usual, E K babbled at him a bit, making all those “wooja-wooja ai lub yoo” noises and scritching him behind the ears. Now, remember, Asphalt started life as a kitten the size of a large hamster, but has grown to better than 20 lbs and has a head the size of a small melon. So, with him sprawled across EKay’s lap, she is sort of trapped.

The bag of tuna breath waited until she was finished and had directed her attention elsewhere. Then, he looked around, stared directly at me for a moment, then shifted a little, raised a paw, and copped a feel.

Yes. Pardon the colloquialism, but the old lardass planted his paw on EKay’s right “boob,” and left it there. Then, he looked at me with an expression on the order of, “Neener Neener, What’re you gonna do about it?”

And before you tell me that it was just a cat being a cat, I’d like to remind you that I saw the look on his face, so I know better.

All I can say is that if he starts bringing her dead stuff, he and I are going to go out back and have a talk. I’m pretty sure I can take him…

More to come…

Murv

With a title like that to start this off I can imagine you might be thinking, “Oh no, not another End Of Days blog. Has Sellars bought into the whole end of the world prophecy nonsense all because of a earthquake?”

Come on… You know me better than that.

However, could we be talking about the end of something else? Because of the changes in tech, newspapers are folding everywhere, and I don’t mean just so they can be laid upon a table. Columnists are penning their farewell letters for page 7D – or 2A, 6F, ad nauseum – as they retire, or go in search of different outlets for their creativity. In some cases though I have to wonder if it is more that they have just run out of things to say.

I’ve been blogging, twice weekly, here on Brainpan Leakage for several years now. It began sporadically, often times just being announcements about where I would be on book tours or something of that sort. Then it grew into a public debriefing about the places I’d been on said travels. Before long it turned into a regular “column,” so to speak. A venting of my woes, a story from my past, a story from my future – those were always the hardest to write. And yes, an occasional blip about where I would be, where I had been, or special sale on books about which I had been made aware.

But now, sitting here this morning, I have to wonder… Is this the end? Blogging takes work. It takes energy. It takes time. Over the years I cannot say that I have been able to measure any appreciable gain in book sales because of my blogging, so what does it get me? I haven’t received any awards (the kind with cash prizes attached, I mean). No movie deals… No television deals… Not even a bag of Cheezy Poofs or Snacky Cakes…

Moreover, sex certainly has not been any better because of it (of course, that’s a whole ‘nother blog, and by that, I don’t mean blog entry, I mean whole ‘nother blog and it would definitely be NSFW, but I digress…)

So with all of that in mind, why go on? Perhaps it is time time to plug the leak and skulk back off into the sunset… Maybe, just maybe, I’ve said all I’ve had to say. Perhaps there’s nothing left in my noggin’ that is funny, poignant, or even blog worthy.

Or… I suppose it could just be that I have a really wicked sinus headache this morning…

More to come…

Murv