BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

Allow me to quell your fears. This blog entry isn’t about what your dirty little minds think it’s about.  So there.

 Now, on with the story…

It was a weekend just like any other weekend, with the exception perhaps that it was Fourth of July weekend. However, since July 4th has absolutely no bearing whatsoever on this tale, we’ll stick with, “It was a weekend just like any other weekend.” All good? Terrific…

On this particular weekend like any other weekend I had been doing elebenty-gazillion loads of laundry just like any other weekend. However, I was finished with laundry, so I don’t guess it has any real bearing either, other than the fact that I had “specially washed” one of the O-springs garments sans fabric softener because she was on a mission to dye it a different color. Of course, what with the spring being a little to the young side for handling stuff like dye and hot water without dying the whole room, adult supervision was needed.

For the record, E K has me doing the laundry, but I don’t dye. Allowing me to dye something would be tantamount to allowing the o-spring to dye something without supervision.

Anywho… On this particular weekend we had also purchased a new computer for E K. Super fast, loaded with memory, storage, and all housed in a black case to match her shoes and leather wear. E K likes to coordinate, you see. Therefore, we were in the office. I was busily doing whatever it is that writers do when they are working on 57 projects at once. E K was playing Speed Sudoku… Or HALO 17: The Leather-Clad Bitch Edition… Or  hacking NORAD… Or maybe it was paying bills and checking her Facebook profile. I never can keep any of that straight. Either way, we were engaged in office type computer activities, and the spring was watching the toob — that is, right up until her program ended and she had a sudden, powerful desire to dye the aforementioned garment.

No… She didn’t try to do it herself. That would be way too predictable… Come on… You know me better than that…

Acquiescing to the Tween Urgency of the project, E K sent the child on a mission. That being to go into the basement and retrieve the large bucket we use for whatever sorts of things one might require a large bucket. And so, off the o-spring went to “haz a bukkit.”

Two minutes, seventeen seconds elapsed when we suddenly heard a door fly open, followed by a running child – the herd of elephants noise was then followed up by a herd of wildebeests bounding up the stairs toward the office. The louvered doors split, swinging inward with enough force to cause a sonic boom. The silence in the wake of the sound barrier being broken was quickly filled with a panting child.

Gasping for breath she yipped, “OhMyGoshIt’sHUGE!!”

I remained silent. I knew better than to get involved.

“The bucket?” E K asked.

“Nothuhbuuug!” Child-o-mine replied.

E K puzzled aloud, “The what?”

Our tween panted some more, then gulped in some air and yelped, “There’sAGiantBugDownThere!”

E K found this to be funny. So did I. But that’s not the funny part I’m here to tell you about.

So… E K says to the spring, “How big is this bug?”

“OMGIT’SHUGE!” the kid replies.

“Really?” E K says.

“YES!” the wild-eyed child tells her.

“It’s been raining,” the redhead explained. “It’s probably just a water bug.”

You see, our basement is an unfinished, leaky, storage/laundry hole in the ground. Whenever it rains, we get water, and maybe even some water bugs.

Now, as we know, for E K this isn’t a really huge issue. If it’s a bug she likes, she picks it up and moves it to a safe, out-of-the way, natural habitat sort of location, and then threatens anyone in the general vicinity with death if they even look like they might be intent on harming the insect. However, if it is a bug she doesn’t like it still really isn’t a problem – and she does, in fact, have a list of bugs she doesn’t like. It’s a short one, but it’s a list nonetheless.  Either way, in the event of the bug being on her hit list, she just puts on her patent leather cockroach killers and goes to work with a wicked gleam in her eyes and a smile on her lips. It’s pretty much the same as how she deals with men, except that as a rule, when it comes to men instead of insects, I’ve never seen her set one free, move him to safety, nor protect him from harm. Quite the opposite, actually… But I digress. This is about actual insects, not figurative ones.

The o-spring, however, hates ALL bugs. She fears ALL bugs. She would be perfectly happy for ALL bugs to be eradicated from the face of the planet. Hence the fact that she was now standing in the office hyperventilating.

But back to the dialogue…

“IT’SHuuuuuuuuuggggggeeeee!” the child repeated, not really placated by EKay’s explanation for its presence in the basement.

“Did you see it on the floor or on the stairs?” EKay asked.

“Onthefloor!” the short person replied.

The redhead shrugged and said, “Okay, well the bucket is on the shelf right at the bottom of the stairs.”

O-spring returned, “IknowIWasDownThere!”

“Well… Did you get the bucket?” E K asked.

The child thought for a second, then with the first inkling of calm she had shown since hurtling up the stairs, she delivered the punch line: “Wellllll… I SAW the bucket…”

Fifteen minutes later we held a funeral for the water bug. After we scraped him off the sole of EKay’s pump, of course. What with him being a water bug and all we flushed him. Seemed fitting.

After all that you have to wonder if he “Saw The Bucket” too… I’m thinking he probably did. Right before he kicked it.

More to come…

Murv

So… A week or so back I posted a quick blog entitled Q&A: In That Order, or something of that sort… Who knows for sure. I don’t even pay attention to me anymore.

At any rate, I said I would answer questions in a blog entry for the 15th, so here it is. I also said I’d wait until the 12th for all the questions. Then I realized I was leaving town at Oh-Dark-Thirty on the 12th and wouldn’t have a chance to see those questions. Well, doesn’t seem like I had to worry. As I said, I don’t pay attention to me anymore, and it seems not many folks out in the blog-o-sphere do either. What I mean is, I got a few questions right off the bat, and only a couple of those were actually serious. But, after that, not so many views of the post. That seems to be the case across the board.

I guess that means folks are becoming bored across the board. With me at least.

Again, who knows…

Anywho, as promised, here are the questions and answers. If you have more, feel free to leave them, and maybe I will answer. Or, maybe I’ll ignore them.

Again, who knows…

• kat says:

  May 30, 2011 at 7:33 pm

  i have been curious for awhile. i am a fan of long hair, my spouse has long hair my stepson and myself also. so…did you set a milestone for yourself? when you cut your hair i mean! ty if you answer!

Heya, Kat… There wasn’t an actual milestone. I’ve had, or did have, long hair since high school. I had some short periods in there, but for twenty-odd years my hair was long, and for most of that, long enough that it was in a fairly substantial ponytail. Then, one day after being “off the road” for a couple of months I had to pack my suitcase so that I could hop onto a big, winged rocket-propelled cattle car, and head off to a foreign land (read: not home) to do a gig. As I stood there looking at all of the stuff I was cramming into my suitcase it dawned on me that I was packing around an awful lot of “hair product,” so to speak. Too much.

Basically it came down to the fact that hair care was taking over my suitcase. I decided it would be way easier to manage, and to pack for, if I had shorter hair. So, I did the only thing I could do. I asked The Redhead. Why? Because I once shaved off my beard without her permission and I still have scars from that incident.

Anywho, Her Supreme Evilness said, “Yeah. I think you are due for a change.”

I said, “My fans will probably be upset.”

To which she replied, “Who do you live with, your fans or ME.”

And so, I got a haircut. Just as an aside, the 16 or so inches of hair went to Locks of Love…

• Gina says:

  May 30, 2011 at 7:38 pm

  So if the book you just finished writing is “In the Bleak Midwinter,” featuring Constance Mandalay…. whatcha got cooking that is due in December? Thrilled we’re gonna get two M.R. Sellars books in such a short period of time!

Writing for a smaller press has advantages and disadvantages. Mostly advantages, but among the disadvantages is that my deadlines are tighter since they move through the editorial process quicker. What that means is that instead of turning in a manuscript and seeing it on the shelves 8-12 months later, it is usually more like 3-6. Sometimes faster if I’ve had to ask for an extension on my deadline.

So… With ITBM in the can, what is next on my plate is finishing up #11 in the RGI series, which I had already been writing when I took the break to do ITBM. Once I finish that, I will be hopping on board the Constance train again, as the publisher has already asked for two more in the Constance Mandalay series.

• Tasialue says:

  May 30, 2011 at 7:38 pm

  So, was Uncle Fred secretly working FOR the government, field testing plague serums on unsuspecting homeless folks? ‘Cause I think he was…

For those who may have never attended my “Magickal Ethics” workshop, “Uncle Fred” plays a big role in a “Kobyashi Maru” no-win scenario I present to the class. The point behind the scenario is not to see if you can pull a Kirk and cheat your way out of it. The point is to present you with a situation that makes you think. The idea being that if you leave the workshop looking for aspirin, then I have done my job to make you think about ethics and how they apply to our everyday lives. Note I said, “make YOU think.” I’ve already done plenty of that on the subject, hence the workshop. The idea is for YOU to have the headache, not ME. However, as you can see, Ms. Tasialue didn’t get a headache. She is just being a headache.

That said… No. He wasn’t. It’s all just a Fig Newton of your imagination.

• Schueyman says:

  May 31, 2011 at 10:17 pm

  What do you call that place on the inside of your arm where your elbow bends? And what about the corresponding area behind your knee?

Antecubital fossa and popliteal fossa, respectively. Neither of these are any relation to Dian Fossa or Bob Fossa. Nor are they related to Dian Fossey or Bob Fossey, just so we’re clear.

(Thanks to my friend Doctor Gina Witt for the anatomical info…)

• Schueyman says:

  May 31, 2011 at 10:18 pm

  Why is there air?

Per Doc Witt – So you won’t collapse due to not having something expanding your skin.

However, as I’ve known you, Mister Schueyman, for thirty-odd years, I highly suspect the answer you are looking for is:

“To blow up volleyballs. Any PhysEd major knows that…”

• dee says:June 1, 2011 at 10:49 pmWhat, is your name?
  What, is your quest?
  What, is the average airspeed of a cocoanut-laden swallow?

Lord Stainless Steel Thundermonkey.

To do everything in my power to please The Evil Redhead.

African or European?

There you go…

More to come…

Murv