BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

I could just as easily have called this Hell House: Welcome To Hell…

I’ll explain that in just a sec. Keep reading. Or don’t. But then you’ll never know the answer…

You see, I was listening to NPR the other day. I do that a lot. Either NPR or CD’s. It’s not that I believe they are completely fair and balanced in their reporting. There is no such organization. Even back when I was learning from Martha Ackmann that the primary goal of the journalist is to be objective and report the news, the professionals out there doing it had biases bleeding through their words. Now, it seems like it’s even worse. Or maybe it’s just that my idealism committed suicide somewhere around my 30th birthday and I was suddenly able to see the emperor’s new clothes for what they really were… or weren’t as the case may be.

However, I’m chasing a whole different chicken with that. Take notice, I said chasing, not choking… Let’s not get the title confused with the prose.

So, anyway, I was listening to NPR and they had an allergist on there who was doing a study about some manner or regional pine tree allergy in the PNW that had gone undiagnosed and untreated in thousands of people over the years. In the process he was giving some basic info about how allergies work, how they form, and how it can be different for certain folks. Like being born with them, or being exposed to an allergen in small amounts over a long period of time – sorta like death by saccharin, if you believe that effed up study.

And, in some cases, a massive exposure to an allergen triggering a reaction that just sticks with you for the rest of forever.

Enter, Hell House…

If you’ve read my previous blogs on the subject of Hell House, then you know that when my father passed, part of his estate was a house that my sister and I now own. With my sis being far and away, the bulk of the duties regarding upkeep have fallen to me. If you want all those gory details, with pictures, just look up the Hell House blogs here on BL.

But back to those damnable fornicating avians and insects…

The previous tenant to whom my father had been renting Hell House was all about plants, and had quite the weed patch going in the exceptionally large back yard. I say weed patch because if a plant isn’t a tree, grass, or something that produces an edible fruit, root, berry, or seed that I would find on my plate during a meal, then as far as I’m concerned it’s a weed.

Now that we’re on the same page… When the tenant moved out we had to do some work to the place before re-renting it. Part of that work involved cleaning up the weed patch, which ended up happening in the fall when everything was going to seed. E K and I spent countless hours one weekend, mowing, digging, chopping, and stuffing dried up, alien kudzuish whatevers into yard barges. The work was hard, sweaty, dirty, nasty, and otherwise unpleasant, but it needed to be done. And, if there’s one thing I can say it’s that E K and I do not run from hard work.

However, by the time we arrived home and I had myself a nice hot shower, something began to happen. My entire body itched, my face turned into a misshapen Murv balloon, and breathing was no longer a concept my body could wrap said balloon head around. Fortunately, a healthy dose of Benadryl re-enabled my ability to process oxygen, but it didn’t even take the edge off my case of the miserables.

Not long after that I heard the Doc on NPR.

I’d never had allergies before. Now I do. Every time the avians, insects, and weeds engage in their inter-species orgy of public fornication – spring and fall – I turn into a dwarf with an identity crisis. I can’t decide if my name is Itchy, Sneezy, Stuffy, Snotty, or Achey.

So, Hell House: 157, Merp: 0

Oh well… at least I’m not allergic to sex.

More to come…

Murv

I read an article a while back. Yes, don’t choke on your cornflakes, I actually do take time to read every now and then. It sort of comes with the whole being a writer thing. But, anyway, this particular article presented a study which ostensibly showed that the gene for red hair is being bred out of the world population at a significant rate. Theoretically, this makes E K kinda rare, what with her being the Queen of the Redheads and all that.

But, I’m not entirely sure I buy their story…

All you have to do is turn on the TV, and there they are. For instance, Lauren from the HP and Windows commercial. Heartthrob of every electronics geek on the face of the planet.

Never mind the fact that she’s actually a card carrying actress for hire, and not just some random, ginger hottie off the street shopping for a computer. That’s another story in and of itself. The point here is, REDHEAD.

There’s another commercial for some manner of portable moving and storage company, or maybe it was even broadband internet – I forget which. At any rate, they show a redhead who is packing a box at a snail’s pace, apparently to prove you don’t need to be in a rush.

Then you have the Target ad. I don’t think they are running it at the moment, but it depicted an entire family of redheads. It was kind of creepy, actually. Almost like the episodes of Millennium dealing with the army of blondes.

Unfortunately, I was unable to locate pictures of those last two, so you’ll just have to take my word for it… Even so, all you need to do is keep flipping through the channels.

Have a look at Desperate Housewives and there you have what? A REDHEAD. I don’t actually watch the show myself, but if I was going to, it would probably be because of the femme fatale on the right. I mean, after all, she’s a redhead, so she attracts quite a bit of attention. Kinda like a stoplight or a firetruck, know what I mean?

Thumb the clicker again and you happen across a rerun of Will and Grace. Voila! REDHEAD.

I actually watched this show. As funny as the two guys were, and even that secretary gal with the voice, I was looking at Debra Messing. Arguably the best reason for watching the show in the first place, in my opinion at least.

As we continue our tour around the dial – back in my day we actually had dials, so count yourself lucky that I’m letting you use the remote – click click and whaddya get? A movie starring a redhead. You can pretty much take your pick here. It could be Reba McEntire – the late Senior Sellars favorite, or maybe Holly Hunter – counted among the not-as-yet-late Junior Sellars faves.

Or what the hell, it could even be Julianne Moore.

So… You can’t escape them. They are everywhere… But, you have an idea. You’ll just pop in a DVD and that will take care of the problem.

Well, maybe not so much…

You snag your Firefly DVD’s off the shelf, select one at random because all of the episodes are more than worth re-watching an infinite number of times, and what do you get? Our Mrs. Reynolds plays across your toob and you end up coming face to face with Christina Hendricks.

Don’t get me wrong. Bumping into Christina Hendricks is not something I would complain about. Hell, I’d probably back up and bump into her again. But remember, right now we are on a mission to escape these supposed rare redheads. These individuals of fiery hair and dubious intent.

Now, obviously, I am leaving out far too many to count. Gillian Anderson, for one. Although I liked her better when she was cute instead of sophisticated. She made the innocent girl next door thing work really well. Tina Louise, anyone? As fond as I am of redheads, I wasn’t much of a Ginger guy. I was all about Mary Ann… Now, make Mary Ann a redhead and… Well… We won’t go there…

Hell, there’s even David Caruso, but I’m not really a fan. Although, I did like it when Ike on Southpark did his impression of Caruso’s career and dove out of the UFO into the snow, but that was pre CSI Miami. Not a big fan of that either.

So… in a last ditch effort to escape this redheaded menace we turn to animated features. Surely with red hair being so rare it shouldn’t show up in cartoons, would it?

Let’s see… Flintstones. Nope, Wilma and Pebbles…

Penelope Pitstop? Nope. Another Redhead…

Scooby Doo? Nope. Daphne. Redhead…

Let’s move on…

Jetsons? Nope. Jane.

How about something with Bugs and the gang? WTF? Yosemite Sam…

Strawberry Shortcake, Jessica Rabbit, The Little Mermaid… Well Crap!

How about something a little more current? Damn… The Family Guy DVD’s won’t work… There’s Lois Griffin decked out in Dominatrix Gear beating the crap out of Peter. Typical for a redhead, of course, but still, there’s the operative issue again. R E D H E A D…

Hmmm… Maybe something Pixarish…

Bang! Elastigirl…

Quick, next movie…

Bang! Beth the Park Ranger…

Swap it out again…

I know, a holiday short… Something Christmasy…

BANG! A redheaded Elf babe…

And guess what? SHE’s the one in charge of Flight Ops for the bearded dude who delivers the presents. Of course. She’s a redhead. She would be in charge now wouldn’t she?

Now, before you start objecting, I know some of you are going to say, “But, Debra Messing was the voice for Beth the Park Ranger and Holly Hunter was the voice for Elastigirl, so that doesn’t count.”

Well, guess what? I’ve seen Martin Lawrence and he looks nothing like a Grizzly Bear, so they were under no obligation to make the animated character a redhead like Messing. Same goes for Hunter.

But they did… Why? Because redheads are everywhere, no matter what they try to tell you with falsified genetic diversity reports from shady scientists. How much would you like to bet those supposed “scientists” who conducted the study are all redheads? Yeah, you’ll want to let it all ride on red, because if they aren’t redheads themselves then they are definitely in the employ of the gingers, guaranteed.

Of course, even when I turn off the TV, throw away the magazines, and burn all the copies of The Red Sonja comic books I can find, I’m not safe, because I have a redhead right here with me.

What’s worse, she is their leader…

So there you have it. Concrete proof that this is all a conspiracy cooked up by my wife and “her kind” to create an even larger “Evil Ginger Army” bent on taking over the world.

If all that’s not enough for you, then how about this little tidbit of intel – It just so happens the ERC (Evil Redhead Coalition) has their meetings right here at my house the third Friday of every month. Of course, E K locks me in the basement so I won’t discover their plans, but I eavesdrop through the air ducts, and what I’ve been hearing is pretty scary…

Evil Redheads… They’re everywhere I tell you… Everywhere…

More to come…

Murv