BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

I make no apologies. I’m an overprotective dad. I mean, just look at what I write for a living. Because of the research I do in order to write those books, I know crap that you should be freakin’ ecstatic that you don’t know. I’m dead serious. Some of the sh*t I’ve learned about sociopaths wakes me up in the middle of the night, drenched in a cold sweat and reaching for the Glock in the nightstand.

THAT’S why I’m an overprotective dad…

Still, that doesn’t mean I’m not a bit silly too. After all, it’s a moral imperative. Dads are supposed to embarrass their kids. It’s an inalienable right. It’s handed out to you the minute you become a father. Trust me. It’s in the paperwork. No kidding.

And so it came to pass that coldness crept into our city as winter descended upon us. And with said cold came bundling up when walking the child to school – what with being an overprotective dad and all, not to mention that I’m wheels down and about to do a three point on that half-century mark, so the doc wants me to exercise. I sit on my ass all day, slinging words, so my fingers are getting all the workout.

But I digress…

Like I said, so it came to pass, and with it passing came the following conversation:

“Do I look sufficiently weird?” I asked.

E K looked me up and down. “Oh yeah…”

“O-SPRING!” I yelled. “Time To GO!”

(thumpita, thumpita, thumpita… came the child down the stairs.)

Around the corner the O-spring came, then screeched to halt, staring at me. Then she moaned, “Daaahhhh-ahhhhhhhhddddddd!”

“What?” I asked.

“You’re wearing THAT to walk me to school?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Daaahhhh-ahhhhhhhhddddddd!” she moaned again, rolling her eyes in the process.

“What? Do I embarrass you?”

“Well, yeah…” she replied.

“Good,” I told her, suddenly channeling Macaulay Culkin from the movie Uncle Buck, in a paraphrased sense, of course: “I’m a dad. It’s my job.”

And so off we went. I trailed along behind at a short distance… Until we got close to the school, of course. Then I closed the gap. I had to make sure all of her friends knew I was her dad…

ANATOMY OF AN EMBARRASSING DAD

TO READ CAPTIONS CLICK PHOTO AND ENLARGE – MAY TAKE A MOMENT TO LOAD

TO READ CAPTIONS CLICK PHOTO AND ENLARGE - MAY TAKE A MOMENT TO LOAD

More to come…

Murv

It’s Sunday and I’m not in a particularly funny mood today.

Not so much because it’s Sunday. At least, I don’t think that’s the reason. Actually, I think it’s more because I haven’t had enough coffee, and I just have too much going on to feel funny. Then again, maybe I’m not actually funny at all and I just think I am. There are those who believe that is that case. Suffice it to say, I don’t like them all that much.

At any rate, when I went to bed last night “The Competition” (that being the two rescued feline types who live here) were having a bit of a tussle over a catnip filled mouse. Drugs. They do strange things, even to cats. So, as I drifted off all I kept hearing inside my head was—

—just goes to show you that I’m not all that right in the head either, and I wasn’t even playing with the damned mouse.

Anywho, where was I? Oh yeah… So, when I crawled out of bed this morning I found the little bastages sprawled out in the living room, sleeping off their catnip high after contemplating the curtains for half the night. It was actually serene for a change.

And so, I leave you with this… The Zen of K(c)at—

EK (the red haired evil one), Asphalt (the BIG gray one), and Nachos El Tigre (the small gray one)

E K sorta looks like SHE could use some catnip…

More to come…

Murv