BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

Those of you who have read the “Mahwage” mini-series of blogs here at Brainpan Leakage already know that I was dopamine wonky, tongue-tied, tripping over myself in love with E K the moment I laid eyes on her. What followed, of course, was a study in silliness across a dozen blog entries which chronicled our courtship and wedding. (Click the link if you need to be filled in… Rumor has it they are a good read, in an amusing and sappy sort of way.)

Of course, in order to contain the aforementioned series within a dozen relatively long articles, I had to hit only the really high points. This meant that many other high points that weren’t actually the absolute peaks were left out. Unfortunate, yes, but hey, just think of what would have happened if I let E K do the editing. It would have been: We met. We got married. End of story. She’s very concise, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. Frugal too. And that’s what the picture of the dead roses above is all about.

You see, one of the things I left out of the Mahwage blogs was a dozen roses I bought for her Supreme Evilness. As it happens, she likes roses. But, this particular dozen came at a time when we were first flirting with one another and not yet fully involved in the “ripped clothing, lip-locked, knocking everything off the desk to make room” passion that accompanies the initial throes of dating. But, I digress as usual…

The thing is, I purchased for The Evil Redhead a dozen red roses. I know, not exactly subtle, but hey, just one of those things. Problem is,  over half the damn things wilted themselves into corpsification within 36 hours. I’d never seen anything like it. While E K had no problem with this happening – other than the fact that she felt bad because she knew how much roses cost – I did. So, I went to the florist. Unfortunately, this particular florist was not of the stellar quality as the one I now use (true story), so what ended up happening was that I purchased 6 replacement roses and hand delivered them to her evilness.

She was happy, but at the same time not so much. You see, being frugal and such she wasn’t happy that I had apparently spent money on more roses. So, I lied. I told her they were warranty replacement roses.

All was good… Until our relationship truly got underway and she took over my finances. It was then she found out I had actually paid for them. As you would expect, knowing her evilness, scoldings and severe beatings then ensued. I was summarily banned from buying her roses for a number of years, lest I waste money on something that was simply going to die in a few days anyway.

Seriously.

That ban has been since been lifted, of course, but she still prefers that I keep the rose giving to a minimum. So, in keeping with her wishes, Valentine’s Day will take the form of Whisky Glazed Filet Mignon, Alaskan King Crab, and Chocolate Covered Strawberries – straight from Murv’s kitchen.

It’s much safer for me that way…

Happy Martyred Saints Day everyone…

More to come…

Murv

I’m sure I’ve mentioned this before, but in case you are new here… Oh, what the hell… It bears repeating even for the regulars:

E K despises Wal-Mart.  And, when I say despises that is very simply the strongest family friendly word I can pull out of my pocket at this juncture. If she could, E K would have Wal-Mart strapped to the wall down in her dungeon so she could torture it on a daily basis. She hates the organization just that much.

Living under that same roof with her I have come to understand this, and to even plan routes to restaurants and cinemas so that they avoid coming within 10 miles of a Wal-Mart. It’s sort of a self-preservation thing. However, since E K is not only evil, she has the built in “Mom Thing” going on, the O-spring can at least get away with mentioning the name of the vile organization without paying the price I – or another adult – would.

And so, since Wal-Mart attracts a “certain” demographic, which then allows them to cut deals with manufacturers or even musical artists that cater to said demographic, the life sucking mecca of retail depravity happened to be the exclusive reseller of a particular CD. A particular CD that it turns out the O-spring wanted “really, really bad.” This, of course, led to the child badgering The Evil One relentlessly about shopping there – whether in person or online, she didn’t care.

Eventually the badgering wore on E K, and one night as the O-spring dropped not so subtle hints around our office, the redhead went ahead and surfed over to the online cesspool of Satan’s Shopping Center. (That would be Wal-Mart just in case you aren’t following.)

The O-spring watched on as the supremely evil one scanned the site. After a few silent moments the kid looked at her mother and with every bit of seriousness she could muster announced in a matter-of-fact tone, “You didn’t know Wal-Mart had this much information didya?”

A minute or two later, as E K and I were cleaning our drinks off our monitors, the daughter turned to me and said, “This is going to be blog material, isn’t it?”

Why yes… Yes it is.

More to come…

Murv