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  • The Best Laid Plans Of Mice And E Kay…

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    bowl of raisin bran If you are looking for a stock to add to your portfolio, I would like to suggest that you look into any company that produces Raisin Bran.

    Seriously.

    It can be Kellogg’s, Post, General-Mills, Store Brand, or even Happy Fred’s Generic Cereal Company. The real deal here is that it doesn’t matter one iota who it is, just as long as they produce, package, and sell Raisin Bran, and are publicly traded on the exchange, you probably want to grab yourself a few shares.

    Why?

    Well, I’ll tell you. Because E K likes Raisin Bran. In point of fact, not only does The Evil Redhead like – nay, love – the shriveled-up-grape and flaky goodness of said cereal, I am fairly certain she is addicted to it… If not addicted, then damn close, because she goes through entire barge loads of the stuff, and on top of that, it is no less than number 2 on the hit parade for her daily routine.

    THE E K DAILY MEANNESS AND EVILNESS SCHEDULE

    1. Get out of bed and scare the hell out of Satan… Or, scare Satan right out of hell, whichever works. Then stand over him and giggle while he cowers in the corner.
    2. Eat Raisin Bran while watching the morning news.
    3. Feed and medicate cats.
    4. Get ready for work.
    5. Beat husband. Beat husband again if the mood strikes. Then stand over him and giggle while he cowers in the corner next to Satan.
    6. Go to work and generally be evil. If necessary, and again if the mood strikes, be specifically evil as well as generally evil.
    7. Come home and beat husband. Find where Satan is hiding and beat him too. Stand over both husband and Satan and giggle while they cower in the corner.
    8. Lock husband and Satan in basement then go to bed.
    9. Sleep with evil grin on face.
    10. Wake up, start at item 1 and repeat ad infinitum.

    See what I mean? I’m pretty sure number 2 would actually be number 1 if it weren’t for the fact that she takes such joy in scaring Satan senseless. I mean, she is after all, Evil Kat. But, if it weren’t for the amusement she gets from torturing the prince of darkness on a daily basis, I’m sure she’d just have me bring the Raisin Bran to her in bed so she could skip that annoying first step altogether. In fact, come to think of it, on Katsmas when she lets Satan slide for the day as a Katsmas present, she does in fact have me bring her Raisin Bran to her in bed, so there you go.

    Oh, and BTW, she’s always quick remind Satan that he can be the prince of darkness all he wants, but she’s the Queen, so “neener neener”… Then Satan starts crying. Blubbering actually. It’s pretty sad to watch.

    But, anyway, back to this whole Raisin Bran thing. One time when we ate the complimentary breakfast at a hotel where we stayed, I witnessed E K stab a desk clerk to death with a spork because all they had were Corn Flakes and generic Cheerios. You just don’t mess with her two scoops, as it were.

    So, I’m sure you can see that E Kay’s schedule of events is pretty well set. And, if something causes her to deviate from that course, things tend to go awry. Take just the other morning for instance…

    sleepwalk It started out just like any other day. Beelzebub was at the back of E Kay’s closet trying to hide under one of her shoe racks while crying for his mommy. The Evil One had enjoyed her morning giggle, and then traipsed into the kitchen so she could move along to number 2 on the list.

    Now, I have to point out that even though she’s had her morning giggle, E K can be a bit on the glassy-eyed side for the first hour or so after her feet hit the floor. Hence the strict routine.

    Well, for whatever reason, be it that she was wracking her brain to come up with a new husband torture, or maybe even that she was simply drunk with mirth from the horribleness she had already perpetrated upon the whimpering devil upstairs, E K deviated from her routine.

    Yes. The Queen Bitch Of The Whole F*cking Universe made a left at Albuquerque.

    She put number 2 on hold and moved number 3 up a half step on the ladder – meaning she elected to feed the cats first. Just so there’s no misunderstanding I want everyone to know I would have gently nudged her back onto the schedule had I been aware this was happening. Unfortunately, I was preoccupied with putting a spit shine on the shoes E K wanted to wear that day lest I be in even more trouble than normal.

    I honestly had no clue whatsoever that anything was wrong until I heard a loud, exasperated groan followed by E Kay’s voice exclaiming, “DAMMIT!”

    (As an aside, I think she might have picked that whole “dammit” thing up from a friend of ours we call “Helga”. She’s been schooling “Helga” in the ways of evil and husband torture, so they’ve hung out together a bit and, well, ya’know what I mean?)

    At any rate, I stopped what I was doing and rushed to the kitchen to see what might possibly be the problem. Things were going through my head like perhaps I had set out the wrong color cereal bowl, or the spoon wasn’t shiny enough, or the milk wasn’t cold enough, or any of the hundreds of other things that would upset the E K.

    confused My heart was stuck in my throat and fear of an impending beating was already welling in my stomach as I rounded the corner. However, instead of seeing blue fire shooting out of the redhead’s eyes, I found myself gazing upon 4 cats – well, actually 1 grumbling Kat and 3 quite obviously confused four-legged felines. I looked at the furry threesome as they cocked their heads side to side, then looked up, down, and all around. Then I looked at The Evil One. In her hand was an open box of Raisin Bran.

    The problem was, that’s also exactly what was in the feline’s dishes on the floor.

    Of course, as I am sure you already guessed, this deviation from the canonical list of the day was somehow my fault. Honestly, I never really understand the logic behind how I get blamed, but I’ve learned better than to object. I just take my beating, and then go cower in the corner with Satan.

    It seems to be quite a bit safer there.

    More to come…

    Murv

  • Enhanced Husband Torture Techniques…

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    Part 1 of 2…

    You really never know exactly what an evil redhead like E K is going to do to you. Sure, there are all the normal, everyday tortures she has in her bag of tricks. The evil, sadistic stuff that wicked redheads do that would make even Dick Cheney cringe. I’ve already told you about those.

    I’m talking about the far more intense EHTT’s (Enhanced Husband Torture Techniques). You see, E K is among that elite group of hypersadistic not-of-this-earth redheads who come up with ways to grind their stiletto heel into the back of your head without even being within 20 miles of you.  Pretty scary stuff this “Remote Torture”, and The Evil Redheads of the world have perfected it.

    I’ll let you in on a little secret – I’m pretty sure E K is their leader. She disappears for a couple of hours every week and whenever I ask about it she just gives me one of those really evil grins and says she was at a “meeting”, then tells me to make sure I have chocolate fondue or finger sandwiches ready for her to take with her to “the meeting” the following week. Unless I am missing my guess here, these “meetings” are where the redheads get together and devise new and frightening things to do to poor husbands like me. This includes not returning my Tupperware and/or fondue forks, but that’s another blog.

    Anyhow, regarding these new and sadistic tortures, let me give you an example – Take for instance a couple of Christmases ago… (nice segue, eh?)

    SocksYou see, E K is a “sock lady”. This is almost exactly like a “shoe lady” (she’s one of those too), but it involves socks instead of shoes. Also, be aware that “sock ladies” should not be confused with “sock puppets”. They are something entirely different. Sock ladies can, however, have puppets, especially if they are evil redheaded sock ladies. But, usually they just call us lackeys, slaves, or “hey you”. For some reason they eschew the use of the word puppet. It probably has something to do with “sock monkeys” and corporal punishment, but we won’t go there.

    Yeah, I’m  digressing… so what’s new about that?

    Okay… Back to the situation at hand – or, at foot as the case may be…

    As I was saying, E K is a “sock lady”.  Back in her early twenties – which isn’t all that long ago since, as we all know, she just turned 25 (wink wink, nudge nudge) – her majesty wore skirts, stockings, and heels to work. Yeah… Even as a service technician out in the field she could be found lithely prancing about on high-heels while beating a printer into rightful submission, and looking damn good doing it. (Not that she doesn’t look damn good doing now too, mind you.)

    However, for the past several years she has reserved her “fancy shoes” for “fancy occasions”… These days when going all dominatrix with a screwdriver on a printer or plotter she is far more likely to be found in slacks and a stylish pair of black or brown leather, flat-soled Mary Janes.

    This is where the socks come in.

    You see, she is not about to sacrifice her quirky individuality for anything. Therefore, she has an entire room full of socks.  And when I say socks, I don’t just mean your average, run of the mill, 6 in a package from K-mart type of socks. Nope. Not E K. She has knee socks, over the knee socks, mid-calf socks, ankle socks, lacy socks, sheer socks, polka-dotted socks, striped socks, solid color socks, argyle, oddly patterned, holiday, whimsical, thin, thick, fuzzy, wool, cotton, synthetic, electric, nuclear, hybrid… wheeeezzzzzzz… wheeeezzzzzzz…

    (Pant… Pant… Pant… Hold on a sec while I catch my breath, okay?)

    wheeeezzzzzzz… wheeeezzzzzzz…

    (Whew… Better now… I think…)

    catsockSo, anyway, you get the point. The woman has socks galore, and is always all about obtaining more socks galore.

    She will buy them in a box. She will wear them with an ox.

    She will wear them on her feet. She thinks socks are really sweet!

    She will get them from the store. She will get them more, more, more!

    And, that’s just the beginning.

    But, much like the folks who collect those little “baby spoons” from National Parks, she doesn’t want just any socks. They have to be socks she doesn’t already have in her collection. Socks that speak to her. Showcase her individuality and wicked stylishness.

    Which brings us back around to Christmas a couple of years ago.

    Here’s the thing… E K and I have been together for a long time. When you have been together as long as we have, no matter how much you are “in love of one another” you tend to start scaling back in the Christmas gift department. Instead of going out and mortgaging the house for the Faith or Charity Diamond (I mean, who would want the Hope Diamond. It’s cursed!) You tend to go for gifts that are slightly less pricey and sometimes even a bit more practical. Especially when you are married to a Taurus. They are all about practical. So, on to the socks… You see, those couple of years back I asked The Evil One if there was anything special she wanted to find under the Yule tree. Without missing a beat she replied, “Cool Socks.”

    Okay. Cool socks. Easy like pie. This, even I can do without screwing up too badly.

    I should have paid more attention to the way the corners of her mouth curled up into a fleeting grin, because little did I know she had just set her wicked, wicked plan into motion.

    More to come…

    Murv

    To Be Continued In:  Murv The Purv…