BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

I have literally lost track of the number of emails, tweets, Facebook & Myspace comments, and other communications I have received from folks following the deployment of the “Gimme Mai Shooz” blog post. In all honesty, I never expected that story to go as “viral” as it did. Granted, it was a weak virus that played out quickly, but it was probably the first blog post I have ever written that was re-tweeted and linked to from other blogs/sites more times than I could count.

And, who knows, maybe the virus is merely dormant for a short period. I suppose it could re-awaken and spread some more. I mean, it definitely is a funny story.

However, the purpose of this particular blog entry is to address the adjunct “virus” that came along with the post itself – that being the plethora of faux bets on the how and when of my demise for publicly retelling the story in the first place. This is where all of the emails, tweets, comments, etcetera, come into play. I had thrown the “want to play Clue and start a pool?” comment out as a joke, but folks picked it up and ran with it. Not something I really expected, but I don’t suppose I should have been surprised. And besides, it was fun to watch.

There were plenty of the old standby ideas submitted:

• E K in the kitchen with a knife…
• E K in the dining room with a poison sandwich…
• E K in the driveway with her car…

There were even a couple that left me wondering:

• E K with a cheese grater and razor wire…
• E K with Dr. Pepper in the bathtub…

I’m not entirely sure if that second one was a “Dr. Pepper bath” type of Beauty Tip, or if the intention was to use the carbonic & phosphoric acids in the soda to dissolve my remains. In addition to the Clue-like wagers, there were even several suggestions for torture and punishment. I’m not entirely certain that the majority of those suggestions actually fit the crime… In fact, I think maybe some folks have seen way too many episodes of the “Jack Bauer Show” .

Still, when it came to bets on how I would meet my end for embarking on this horrible transgression, the suggestion I received most, and the odds on favorite method for my death was:

• E K somewhere in the house with stiletto heels [add description here]

– The “somewheres“ tendered for consideration ranged anywhere from her shoe closet to just about any other room you could imagine, including some we don’t even have.

– The stiletto heels varied quite a bit in color and style. (Obviously the fashion statement was just as important as my demise.)

– The [add description here] AKA “method” by which the deadly footwear would be used to affect my untimely death varied only slightly and always involved an enormous amount of gleeful stomping and grinding on E Kay’s part, and even more bleeding and suffering on my part.

Not surprisingly, 100% of the death by high heels suggestions came from women. At first, I assumed that all of these ladies had read the RGI Miranda Trilogy, since that happened to be how a particular victim met his demise at the hands… well, feet actually… of a sociopathic killer dominatrix. Then I discovered that several of them had not yet read that far in the series.

That was a bit of a surprise…

What was really shocking to me, however, was the obvious delight most of them took in outlining the details of the scenario for me. There seemed to be a whole vicarious thrill built around it. Some of them even seemed to have spent quite a bit of time dwelling on it… Like maybe even before the whole blog ever happened, if you know what I mean… I even kind of had the feeling I was suddenly becoming a virtual surrogate for some husbands and boyfriends out there who had committed various infractions over the years.

Kinda scary… Kinda really scary, actually…

Because of that, I hope you ladies realize I’m going to be maintaining a safe distance from here on out… Especially if you show up at one of my book signings wearing high heels.

So, anyway, there’s something y’all probably need to know. E K really and truly is an extremely laid back gal. Very little fazes her, and her Evil persona in my blogs is for the most part satire. Now, this is not to say that she won’t tap dance on someone’s head if they cross her, because she definitely will. I’ve seen her do it. I even have pictures. And, I’m also not saying that she isn’t on the dominant side, because that would be a lie.  She is very much the alpha female. And, in our relationship I’m the clown in the mailroom and she’s the CEO – actually, she prefers to be referred to as The Queen, but let’s not take that side road… My point here is she actually knows about my blogs in advance. Maybe not the exact wording and such, but she definitely knows which stories are being told. So, in essence I really had little to fear – from her, anyway. The rest of you twisted women… Well…  I’m not so sure…

At least, that’s what I thought…

You see, as it happens E K gives pretty amazing back walking massages – trust me, that’ll make sense in a minute if it doesn’t already. I figure she was probably a Geisha or something of the sort in a previous life,  – (Egads, please don’t email me and tell me I’ve offended someone with the whole Geisha thing… I realize it’s a whole cultural thing and that I’m probably just focusing on a hyped aspect or something, but give me a break…) – My point being that with sitting in front of a keyboard as much as I do, I will get a crick in my back every now and again. Whenever seeing the Chiropractor isn’t affordable time-wise or money-wise, and E K notices me twisting and stretching quite a bit, she asks with much wifely compassion and concern, “Is your back hurting? Do you want me to walk on it for you?” Then she’ll go all “E K-Geisha” on me and run up and down my back a few times while it goes POP! CRACK! SKRUNCH! After that I’m all good. She really and truly does have a talent for it. Trust me, I’m not the only person for whom she’s done this. She could probably get you testimonials without even threatening anyone.

Anywho, such was the case Saturday evening… As in, the Saturday evening immediately after the blog had been going a bit viral…

I should have known something was up when instead of the normal concerned question, her offer to pop my back came out a bit differently this time. With more than just a bit of a wicked grin and an evil twinkle in her eyes the redhead pretty much issued the following order, in no uncertain terms –

“Lay down and I’ll step on you…”

I didn’t notice her shoes until it was already too late.

I blame you ladies and your suggestions.

More to come…

Murv

Some of you may remember me reporting on the graphic and horrendous Barbie Murders some time back. Actually, it was a Ken murder, but Barbie was a person of interest in the investigation. If you missed it, here is a link to help you get caught up:

Barbie Murders Part 1 (aka – Solving Murders At Home… August, 27 2008)

Well, anyway, after next to no media attention whatsoever (due to the election, I assume) and a low budget investigation (read: me, a scratched magnifying glass, and a couple of notes scribbled in crayon) I think there has been a break in the case.

Actually, this all happened quite by accident, as many breaks in cases do. No one called to rat out Babs or anything, but let’s just say I happened to be in the right place at the right time.

You see, at 5:07 AM, Friday, November 14, 2008, I was roused from my slumber by an intense feeling. A feeling that was demanding in no uncertain terms my immediate and undivided attention. At first my heart began to race as adrenalin dumped into my system, but within a matter of seconds it became apparent that the sensation was, in fact, my bladder telling me to get to the bathroom post haste. (Hey, I never said there was anything supernatural about the sensation.)

So, anyway, I dragged myself from beneath the covers and stumbled down the stairs. A quick detour allowed me to go ahead and flip the switch on the coffee pot in the kitchen before backtracking and hitting the bathroom. After “taking care of business” I set about washing my hands and happened to notice something from the corner of my eye. Being the highly trained investigator that I am, I finished with my sanitizing operation then dried my digits, lest any moisture on my hands destroy or contaminate evidence.

As I had done weeks before, I pulled back the shower curtain. I had to stare for a while, and even squint a bit, as I was doing all this sans glasses (or even scratched magnifying glass for that matter)…

What I saw was so damning that I felt the need to go get my glasses just to be sure I was making no mistakes.

After obtaining my spectacles I returned to the scene, magnifying glass and crayon in hand. My corrected vision served only to show me what I had thought I had seen to begin with.

Ken, still extremely corpsified, now had his little plastic head jammed firmly back onto his shoulders. So firmly in fact that he really no longer had a neck. But, since he’s dead I don’t suppose he really needs one, so I guess it is a moot point… However, I digress… So, Ken – all dead and stuff – was now sprawled face down on the tile with a “Hello Kitty” washcloth draped over his rigid body. (I assume the coroner was out of sheets and body bags, and therefore just used the first available thing.)

Now, this was interesting enough in itself. I mean, weeks have passed and the body still hadn’t been moved, not to mention the reattachment of the head. But the primary reason I had rushed for my glasses was what I had seen sitting mere inches from lifeless corpse of the victim. You see, initially I had thought I might be suffering from double vision, for no longer was there simply Babs sitting there looking upon Dead Ken with a look of satisfaction. There were now two Barbies hanging out at the crime scene. What was worse is that they were both wearing the same sparkly blue bathing suit.

Upon bespectacled inspection, however, I discovered that the newcomer was a redhead, whereas Babs from the original scene was a brunette. And there they were… Both of them. But, that’s not all…dare I say it…yes, I dare. You see, they were just a bit entangled with one another, if you know what I mean…

At this juncture, the prevailing theory is that Babs got tired of Ken the Eunuch and decided to explore her wild side, thereby hooking up with Evil Redheaded Babs at a local bar. Before long it simply became a classic love triangle…and, well…we all know what can happen with those. Redheaded Babs, what with redheads being evil and all, likely convinced her new found love that it would be a good idea to be rid of Ken the Eunuch once and for all… And there you have it. A crime of passion. Pretty Poison all rolled into a redhead and a brunette.

Babs-B and her girlfriend Babs-R have now been detained for questioning. I had to borrow handcuffs from the Miranda action figure on my desk, but I don’t think she’ll miss them. She had plenty. Right now the two detainees aren’t saying much, but they do keep smiling an awful lot. Just can’t seem to wipe the smirks off their perfect little faces.

Funeral arrangements for Ken are on hold until someone claims the body. I get the feeling we could be waiting quite a while…

More to come…

Murv