BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

They say a picture is worth 1000 words. I’ve never really been absolutely certain who “they” are, but they get quoted quite a bit. I guess it’s just one of those things. Personally, I’ve always sort of agreed with the concept, but then I’ve also been known to say why use 1000 words if 500 will do. I’m sort of divided like that. I know it doesn’t seem like I would only use 500 words instead of 1000 when you read my blogs, but that’s just because I have so many excess words left over from not using them elsewhere. Have to get rid of them somehow, and here seems to be the dumping ground…

But anyway… Back to that whole picture thing. The other night we were visiting friends for a gala “TikkiToberfest” party. You know the drill – sort of a blend between German and Polynesian culture. Hawaiian shirts, Lederhosen, Poi, Brats, Beer, and Fruity Drinks served in hollowed out pineapples with little paper umbrellas. A typical Saturday night party. Well, as it would happen, our host, Dave, had a mess of Habanero peppers on hand to go with the meal. Being a fan of peppers I had a couple. They were good. Excellent, in fact. However, as generally happens with large amounts of capsicum sticking to your tongue, a cupcake and mass quantities of beer were required to douse the fire.

THIS is where I learned an important lesson: Habanero Peppers + Red Velvet Cupcakes + Beer = A Very Powerful Hallucinogen.

How do I know this?

Well, to begin with, I consumed all three – duh. However, what really clinched it was when I went into the bathroom and saw the Zombie Cat.

Yes. A Zombie Cat. Kitten really. There it was, rolling around on its back as kittens will do, playing with some brains. Not really all that surprising, given that most cats like to play with their food, so why wouldn’t a Zombie Cat as well?

When I went back outside to the fire pit I announced this to everyone. I don’t think they believed me… that was, until my good friend, Celeste “The Blonde Bombshell” Webster went to investigate. With her trusty phone she snapped a picture for all to see… And there it is above, a 1000 word photo to go with the 389 regular words I just typed.

More to come…

Murv

A gentle reminder: I don’t just spout silliness here on this blog. I also write novels. Those are what put the bread on the table, but bread is just about it as far as that goes. My wife has to bring home the bacon (and broccoli, and eggs, and milk, and…) That’s not what this is about, however…

If you have read my official bio over on my regular “author type person” website then you have probably run across the part about us having a pair of rescued felines, both of whom I describe as “the competition.”

Why “the competition?” some have asked.

Easy. They’ve got a thing for The Supreme Redhead. Yeah… E K.

Now, I realize that sounds a bit paranoid, but let me tell you a story. A recent story, in fact, and not at all unusual around here with these furry lunatics.

Just the other night, E K was on the sofa, and Competition #1, AKA Asphalt (because we rescued him from the middle of a highway on-ramp) immediately climbed onto her lap. He does this every time she parks for more than two minutes. Yes… I can hear you now, “But, Murv, that’s normal for cats.”

Yeah… sure.

As usual, E K babbled at him a bit, making all those “wooja-wooja ai lub yoo” noises and scritching him behind the ears. Now, remember, Asphalt started life as a kitten the size of a large hamster, but has grown to better than 20 lbs and has a head the size of a small melon. So, with him sprawled across EKay’s lap, she is sort of trapped.

The bag of tuna breath waited until she was finished and had directed her attention elsewhere. Then, he looked around, stared directly at me for a moment, then shifted a little, raised a paw, and copped a feel.

Yes. Pardon the colloquialism, but the old lardass planted his paw on EKay’s right “boob,” and left it there. Then, he looked at me with an expression on the order of, “Neener Neener, What’re you gonna do about it?”

And before you tell me that it was just a cat being a cat, I’d like to remind you that I saw the look on his face, so I know better.

All I can say is that if he starts bringing her dead stuff, he and I are going to go out back and have a talk. I’m pretty sure I can take him…

More to come…

Murv