BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

…Or am I just happy to see you?

Remember your childhood? No… Not back that far. No need for poopy diapers around here. I fling enough poo for all of us.

I mean like back when you were about 8 to 10… Maybe slightly younger, but not too much. You know, kind of like around the age of kids in those sub sandwich commercials where they have all the adults running around but they have little kid kinda voices…

You haven’t seen those? Well damn… They’re actually kinda funny…

Hmmm… Well just stick with me here and maybe we can work this out.

Back when you were a kid, around 8 to 10, did your parents ever say, “Come on, Rusty (or whatever they called you). We’re going for a ride.” Then, drive for about two hours and eventually boot you out of the car on some lonely country road and then speed off?

Okay, okay so mine didn’t do that to me either.

So, how about this instead: Did they ever hustle you into the car, not telling you where you were going, then listen to you gripe for 20 minutes because you wanted to watch Lassie or The Lone Ranger instead of go somewhere that you didn’t even know where or what it was? And then, after you were really good and bored, and extra grumpy, and were just plain being a kid, they broke the news to you that you were on your way to get a new bike… Or a puppy… Or to see a movie you’d just been dying to see… Or Holiday Hill… Or White Castle… Or swimming… Or any one of a million things that would make a kid go ape-shit excited to the point where they wiggle right out of their Superman Underoos?

Well, unless you had a truly horrible childhood then you probably know what I’m talking about, at least on some level, be it big or small.  If you did have a truly horrible childhood, you have my sympathies…

So anyway, why the hell am I rambling about such inane silliness? Well, you see, sometimes it’s exactly like that for writers. We get started on a manuscript (hustled into the car). We write, and write, and write (gripe and get grouchy because we’d rather be looking at porn… Hey, the other shows have lost their appeal at this point)… and besides, even though the story is good, and the prose we have penned is gripping, the final destination is in the hands of the characters and they haven’t yet given up the secret info…

But then, just like our parents who had tortured us with clandestine car rides only to surprise us with serendipitous banana splits from Velvet Freeze,  our characters choose some arbitrary moment to reveal to us where we are going.

You know, like when we are folding the laundry and ruminating about where to take that next chapter.

And, just like the little kids we were then, we wiggle right out of our  Superman Underoos, giggle, pee ourselves, and get all kinds of cotton candy overload excited.

Yeah… Pretty cool, eh?

So… I guess now that I’ve peed my Superman Underoos I should change. Whaddaya think, Batman or Aquaman?

Of course, there’s always Wonder Woman… But those are really designated for when I’m looking at porn instead of writing…

More to come…

Murv

…the opportunity.

I’ll tell you right up front, this is going to be one of those short, vapid blog entries with no substance whatsoever. Some of you may even find it sexist. Well, you should know me better than that by now. Just sayin’. (Edit, I thought it was going to be vapid when I started out, but maybe now, not so much.)

Anyway, after an hour or so of “entertaining the troops” on Facebook, a comment was made that sparked an idea. Of course, I mentioned that I had an idea and I needed to run off for a bit and implement it. What did that get me?

Oh ye of little faith. Pthhhbbbbt!

So, the idea that came about was this. Cartoon characters. I suppose it all stared with me mentioning that since Pebbles is a redhead she could most likely kick Bam-Bam’s ass. This lead to comments from others, and then a dribble from my brainpan.

So, here’s my flash of not-so-brilliance. Many folks I talk to have these “lists”. You know what I’m talking about. The list of celebrities your spouse said it would be okay for you to sleep with if presented with the opportunity. The reason your spouse agrees, of course, is the fact that it just ain’t gonna happen. This is the literal definition of a “safe bet.”

Anyway, the comments got me to thinking. How about cartoon characters you could sleep with if presented with the opportunity?

Therefore, here’s my list, in no particular order.

Jessica Rabbit.

I mean…

Well…

Ummm…

Just look at her!

I know, I know. She’s just drawn that way. But, that’s the point. She’s a cartoon. She’s drawn in such a way as to… well… stir the imagination so to speak.

I really suspect that I am not alone in this. If I was there wouldn’t be so many pictures of her out there on the Internet.

After all, we’re talking about a pretty dated movie here.

And, what of Roger? Aww, hell, I don’t know. He’s a rabbit, and he never really seemed to be all that with it to begin with. Besides, if we can have “Toon Lists,” how do we know the toons don’t have lists as well? And, after all, I am a famous author ya’know… (I figure if I keep saying it, eventually someone will believe it. Maybe even me.)

At any rate, even though I said no particular order, I think ol Jess here would have to be right there at the top of the list.

Now don’t start in on me about robbing the cradle and stuff with this next one. I’m not talking ORIGINAL Pebbles. I’m talking 70’s era, grown up Pebbles.

And, when you get right down to it, Pebbles Flintsone is WAY older than me, so if any cradle robbing is being done, she’s the culprit.

But, let’s face it. When they did the Pebbles and Bam-Bam cartoon, where the two of them had grown up, they drew her pretty good.

While kids watching the cartoon probably didn’t notice much of anything, trust me, the dad’s did.

On that note, I have long held the theory that they put semi-alluring characters into cartoons for the purpose of getting the parents – in particular the dads – to sit down with the kids for a bit.

Let’s face it, Daphne was the hot one.

Now this is not to say Velma didn’t have her own allure. I happen to harbor a fondness for women in glasses, and I kinda liked that pageboy do she sported as well. The baggy sweater, well, not so much, but it did leave some things up to the imagination. And, since we are talking toons here, imagination is pretty much the driving force.

My only turnoff with Velma was actually the fact that she kept running around yelling, “Jinkeez!” Honestly, that sounded like some kind of STD to me.

Seriously.

“Hey, Shaggy, the doctor just called with my test results, and I tested positive for Jinkees. You and Scooby better go get yourselves checked.”

But, we’re here to talk about Daphne, not Velma and bizarre, cartoon STDs.

Self-assured, downright stylish, and a redhead. Yeah, I know, I’ve got myself a pattern going here.

Either way, Daphne could get right into the thick of things, play the damsel in distress, and help solve the mystery. All the while she looked damn good doing it, and kept Fred on a short leash. That had to tell you something about her right there.

So, for all her detractors out there, Daph had a lot more depth than you realize.

And I’m willing to explore it.

I actually have a few more, but I think I’ll save them for Toon Dates Part II or something…

More to come…

Murv