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  • Blog Material…

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    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

  • 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