Elizabeth Taylor ain’t got nothin’ on the Evil Redhead…

Seriously.

E K is way hotter than E T ever was, and way more evil.  By several orders of magnitude on both accounts… And, she’s really a Kat. So there…

Yeah, so obviously this is a bit of a play on words and all, but since I’ve also been babbling in my status updates about helping Scuba with a roof job he has, I thought perhaps I’d give y’all a bit more info.

Especially since I’ve only recently discovered the fact that E K didn’t leave her evilness on the ground when she went up that ladder…

Day 1 – Tearoff…

I didn’t arrive at the site of the roofing job until late morning because there was a furnace issue at Hell House I had to address. By the time I made it to the roof, tearoff was in full swing. Here you can see her supreme evilness shoveling old shingles in the direction of the dumpster below (out of frame)… I later found out that she was covering up the bodies of those who had been in her way while doing the tearoff. It seems she would simply lure them to the edge of the roof, then hit them in the back of the head with the shovel and push them off into the dumpster. Then, like a cat in a litter box, used the old shingles to cover up the… Well, you get the idea.

BTW, the reasons you will see no pictures of me on the roof –

1. Due to a severely injured foot (long story) E K forbade me from being up there lest I fall off and kill myself. At first I thought this was kind of heartwarming, but she later told me that she simply didn’t have time to break in a new lackey.
2. I was afraid E K would hit ME in the back of the head with a shovel and push me off into the dumpster. I mean, you never know…

Here we have a shot of the Dewalt Boom Box / Battery Charger that goes everywhere Scuba goes. Much grumbling came from the kids on the crew – those E K hadn’t yet pushed off into the dumpster, anyway – because all of us old farts had the toonage set to classic rock from our era.  And, of course, there you have the redheaded roof mistress on the right…

This is a picture of what we on the ground (working cleanup and cut crew) thought was E K helping Scuba with the shingles. Of course, we later found out she was threatening to hit him with a shovel if he didn’t get on the ball. What a slave driver she is…

Here is the Evil Redhead once again. Turns out that this time she was threatening to kick the ladder over if Scuba didn’t hurry up and move faster…

Okay, okay… So, she didn’t really push anyone into the dumpster and she didn’t threaten to kick over the ladder. However, she still didn’t check her dominant self at the door.

During the job, on several occasions Scuba would say, “I’m done. Let’s call it a day,” whereupon he would find something else to do and start in on it. After the fourth or fifth time he did this, E K put her hands on her hips and announced, “Steve, you’re done! Get down off the roof. NOW!”

Yep, he did what she told him to do. Even Scuba knows it’s best to obey the Evil Redhead… Besides, she still had a shovel up there with her and there was room in the dumpster.

More to come…

Murv

I think that will probably depend on how well I follow instructions from here on out. The dance thing, I mean.

You see, messages come in all forms and from many sources. In fact, depending on your belief system, you may even be convinced that you receive messages from beyond the veil between the worlds. And, sometimes those messages come along with a set of instructions that need following.

I suppose at this point you are wondering what messages from the great beyond have to do with the picture of Evil Kat’s shapely gams over here on the right. Well, to be honest, both everything and nothing. You see I’m not actually going to go on about being contacted by the dead. I am, however, going to go on about messages. In particular a message I received just the other day, and it just so happens that it has quite a bit to do with E Kay’s shoes.

In particular, her Mary Janes.

(BTW, I’d have put the whole picture up there, however if you have seen the revamped cover of Perfect Trust, for which this was one of many shots taken to create the final collage, you know things were far less pretty above the waist… Not gory or anything… You’ll just have to read the book if you don’t understand what I’m getting at… But, yeah, E K was one of the models… How cool is that?)

And, back to our regularly scheduled blog…

So, E K has several pairs of Mary Jane styled pumps. Dress up, work, leather, patent leather,  canvas, heels, flats, wedges, brown, black, and so on…

You get the idea.

I couldn’t begin to tell you about the fashion statement surrounding these, primarily because I have absolutely no fashion sense at all. I will pair stripes and plaids in a heartbeat, so I am definitely NOT the go-to guy where this sort of stuff is concerned. However, as shoes go these seem to work for the Evil One, and I am perfectly willing to admit that I think she looks pretty damn good in them. This latter fact may have something to do with one of those childhood memories, that being the little blonde-haired girl next door when I was growing up. We were all of about 7 and I was crushing on her pretty hard. Being the style of the 60’s she always wore frilly dresses and patent leather Mary Janes. They say you never forget your first love. Well, I wouldn’t call this playmate from my childhood a “love,” so I guess that old saying applies to crushes too.

So, there you go. Nothing sick or twisted, just Id, ego, and superego colliding to stir fond puppy love memories in my heart whenever I see the evil redhead in her Mary Janes.

Okay, enough with psychoanalyzing the Murv…

Now, the thing about E Kay’s shoes is that while most of them reside in her evil shoe closet, there are a few pairs that occupy strategic locations around the house – i.e. wherever she happened to take them off. Of course, her evilness is still more conscientious about her shoe placement than the O-spring. If you go stumbling through the dark in the middle of the night around our house, while traversing the living room you will trip over every pair of shoes the child owns. E K, however, does place hers pretty much out of the way. One such “out of the way” location where her feet become un-shod – and the aforementioned shods remain – is the general vicinity of her desk in our shared office.

And yes, Virginia (No, not you Doc… No, not the state either… I mean the metaphorical and collective Virginia) this is from whence I received a message. I just didn’t know it at the time. See below…

If you look closely at the left shoe you will notice a piece of paper lounged out on the insole as if it belongs there…

You see, the other day I rolled back from my desk on a mission to put something in the cabinets on the other side of the room. Since our office is relatively small our desks are against opposite walls. When I stood up to make the 4 steps to the cabinets I had to step around the shoes. When I looked down I noticed this bit of paper occupying the insole.

I didn’t really think much of it at first. Her shoes were sitting next to the paper recycling bin and since she is a shredding maniac I figured that in a frenzy of potential paper-mâché production the previous evening a scrap had escaped her evil clutches in a daring attempt at freedom. Unfortunately for the scrap, however, it plummeted into her shoe where it was overcome by odoriferous fumes and expired before it could get away.

Do NOT tell her I said that…

I continued about my task, tucking some papers into a cabinet, then returned to my desk. once again stepping around the pair of Mary Janes. This time, however, I noticed that there appeared to be writing upon the bit of paper. Again, I didn’t really think much of it until several seconds had passed and I was seated back at my desk. Some manner of subliminal trigger clicked, clanked, or whatever it is they do and I stopped everything I was doing. The image of the paper with the writing on it flashed through my gourd and I screwed up my face in thought as I wondered, “Did that really say what I think it said?”

Now I was curious. So, what else could I do? I rolled back, turned around in my chair, then leaned over to look at the scrap in the shoe (all while holding my nose, of course…) And, much to my surprise, it did in fact say what I thought it said.

“Leave Treat”

I’d heard “trick or treat” before, but never “leave treat,” although it definitely sounded like a pretty clear instruction to me. For a minute I started wondering if she was trying to get in touch with her Dutch roots and thought it was Christmas or something. But I came to my senses and remembered she is primarily Welsh and Irish, not Dutch.

Then for another brief moment I considered stuffing a banana into the shoe just to see what would happen when her evilness came home. However, since I wasn’t sure if that would spark some sort of Freudian dilemma or not, and I didn’t have any Vodka or Scotch miniatures on hand, I elected to simply laugh and snap a picture or two, because it was obvious to me at that juncture that this would be blog material.

Unfortunately, I get the impression that maybe I should have put some individually wrapped Dove chocolates in there or something.

Why?

Well, what you can’t see here is the knobby tread this pair of shoes has on the sole. The reason that is important is that I am now sporting a mirror image of it all over my face. All I know is that E K was doing a lot of unintelligible screaming while she was dancing on my head, but I did manage to catch a little snippet about her shoes being empty when she arrived home and when was I going to learn to follow instructions?

More to come…

Murv