BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

Yep… You would think that considering the books I pen I would eschew getting myself involved in any more mysteries than are absolutely necessary. After all, making them up, plotting them out, and then attaching them to paper through the use of words should be enough for one guy, correct?

But no… Leave it to me to get myself involved in a murder investigation here at home.

So, let me explain the event leading up to this homicide for you:

I was making one of my daily trips to the library (yes, that would be a euphemism- library, can, throne room, crapper… take your pick.) Anyway, there I am, reading through the latest issue of Missouri Conservationist when over the top edge of the magazine I spy something. At first, I thought nothing of it, but that only lasted a second or two. You know how it is – you see something and it doesn’t quite register at first, but then after a heartbeat or so it smacks your right between the eyes… Well, that’s pretty much what happened. So, lowering the magazine, I took a longer look.

Lo and behold, there on the back corner of the bathtub, not quite covered by the shower curtain, are Barbie and Ken. Now, I’m definitely no prude- if you’ve read the Miranda Trilogy, you know that to be true- however, I have to admit that I blushed. You see, Barbie, in all her curvaceous glory, was grappled with the buff eunuch in a “girl-on-top missionary position”. It was obvious that they had been swimming in the bathtub at some point because Babs’ long, flowing, nylon hair showed signs of having dried without the benefit of combing or detangling. Ken, on the other hand, had little problem in that department, what with the helmet hair and all, but I digress. The point is, putting two and two together told me that after some frolicking in the sudsy surf, the two had apparently become amorous and, well, needed to do some business. Perfectly natural. Basic carnal urges and all that… So, all good…

At any rate, as I said, I blushed, then went back to reading about hummingbird feeders while making it a point to finish the article and all my business associated with the reading of said article a bit more quickly than usual. I mean, I seriously doubted that the two love birds really wanted a spectator, know what I mean? (BTW, due to Ken’s general lack of endowment, I didn’t bother to offer any contraception. I suspected it probably wasn’t needed.)

Okay, so now we fast forward to the next day. Here is where the crime scene comes into play…

As expected, I needed to once again visit the library. Just one of those other natural urges. This time I think I was planning to read the local school district newsletter so I would be up on any bond issues, or things I might need to know which would affect my child’s learning. I pretty much figured Babs and Ken would be done by now, so I was feeling pretty safe in selecting one of the longer articles to read. Of course, as we all know, the best laid plans of mice and Murvs, yadda yadda…

Upon entering the library, naturally my eyes were drawn to the porcelain beachfront where the two fashion dolls had been making out. Not because I am a closet voyeur or anything, I just wanted to be certain they were finished so that I could in fact indulge in reading the lengthy article without feeling rushed. What I saw this time was less a scene from a skin flick and more a horrific tableau from a slasher movie (or, one of my books even…)

Ken’s rigid body was laid out in the very same spot where Babs had been…ummm…uhhh…”mounting” him. However, like I said, it was his body. The poor plastic eunuch’s head was sitting several inches away, quite obviously separated from the rest of his buff plasticness, and it was staring dully at the ceiling.

Well… Being a curious author of suspense thrillers that usually involve some type of gory murder, I felt compelled to investigate further. Using the rolled up newsletter to carefully push back the shower curtain (I didn’t want to disturb evidence like fingerprints you see) I proceeded to check out the surroundings.

Much to my surprise, perched on the ledge of the tile back splash, was Barbie, resplendent in her sparkly blue- and extremely filled out- bathing suit. Her pretty little face, replete with a tasteful touch of eye shadow and pearlescent pink lipstick was tilted in the direction of the carnage. And, moreover, on those pearly pink lips she was wearing that painted on smug grin.

The investigation is proceeding, and so far Babs isn’t saying a word, but I’ve got one of those feelings… You know, the Rowan Gant Twilight Zone knocking on the back of my skull kind.

And, you know what it’s telling me?

Barbie is a Black Widow. Maybe they should have named her, oh, I don’t know… Miranda?

More to come…

Murv

I have to be honest. The picture you see at left has absolutely nothing to do with this blog entry… Well, kinda nothing.

You see, it wasn’t even included with the original posting of this particular entry. However, in the process of moving things from Myspace to the new home of Brainpan Leakage, I was also doing a bit of straightening up around the hard drive… Early spring cleaning, so to speak… Well, as luck would have it, I ran across this picture of EK and me from a costume party we held on our 8^th anniversary (remember, we got married on Halloween)…  8th anniversary…spiders…8 legs… yeah, we were all about themes back then… I’ll have to see about digging out some of our other costume party photos.  But, there I go digressing…

Anyway, so given the title of this blog entry, as well as the Addams family references, EK looking all dangerous & sexy in her “Black Widow” outfit, and me as her webbed over prey, just seemed to fit and I decided maybe I should post it here…

Even if it doesn’t exactly fit, well, it’s kind of a cute picture.

But, on with the original blog…

So I’m on a few of these other social networking sites. Yeah, I know, there are a ton of them out there, and I cannot possibly be on all of them or I would never get any writing done. But in the interest of “viral marketing” I do hang out on a couple of the others besides Myspace. Hey, it’s all about getting name recognition. People see me, see my name, then the next time they see it the little bulb lights up to trigger the “hey, I’ve heard of that guy before”… Then, maybe they eventually get around to buying a book or two. Then, I get to keep writing books. (Kind of a vicious circle, eh?)

Yeah, I know. Get to the point, Gomez…

Anyway, I’m sure you are wondering “why the Addams family lyrics for a title of this blog?” Well, I’ll tell you. On one of those other social networking sites, someone posted a comment to my page that went a little something like this:

“…You two must be a HOOT at Parent-Teacher’s day! LOL! (WHY did the image of Gomez and Morticia Addams meeting Mr. Rodgers just pop into my head? “its a lovely day in the embalming room, a lovely day in the freezer…oh, will you be my, won’t you be, my cadaver?” LOL!)…”

Obviously that isn’t the entire comment, but basically it came on the heels of some banter about Evil Kat, and the question that due to the genre of my writing whether or not she is afraid to go to sleep with me around. To that I simply replied that she is far more evil than I could possibly be.

At any rate, the Addams family reference as well as the P/T conference thing begged an answer (you know me, just can’t shut up for anything). So, I answered. My  reply seemed to tickle quite a few folks, so I thought maybe I’d repeat it here.

Yes… Parent – Teacher Conferences are VERY interesting… Primarily on the first orientation conference, after Wednesday (well, you started it with the Addams family stuff – besides, I don’t publish the munchkins name) tells everyone in her class that “Daddy writes books” …  So, the first conference goes something like the following (note: this is a fairly accurate recounting of almost every initial P/T conference we have attended)–

Teacher: Mister Sellars, nice to meet you. Wednesday just goes on and on about how you are an author.

Murv: Yeah, she gets a bit excited about things at times.

Teacher: So, what are your books about?

Murv: They’re paranormal suspense novels about a Witch who helps the Saint Louis Major Case Squad track down and apprehend serial killers.

Teacher: [horrified silence]

Murv: [Grin]

Teacher: So…ummm…uhhh…they aren’t children’s books then?

Murv: No. Not so much. I told Wednesday she’s not allowed to read them until she’s at least 35. Oh, and by the way, whenever I’m not out of town on tour I’m available to help out as a room parent for field trips and such. Just give me a call.

Teacher: [rushing to change the subject] Ummm, uhhh. okay…uhhh…So! Wendesday’s Mom! I understand YOU fix computers!

So, there you have it… That really and truly is pretty much how our initial meetings with the munchkin’s teachers go. Fortunately, after that things seem to settle down. Especially after I send postcards to the class when I am gallivanting around the country on tour. In fact, they even end up deciding I’m pretty okay.

Yeah, I’ve even been determined to be okay enough that I’ve actually done the room parent thing on field trips. (LOL)

More to come…

Murv