BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

Okay, so this blog isn’t going to be about Firefly or Serenity, but I am a fan and I love that line…Plus, Wacky Fun was definitely had…

Yesterday (Sat. 1/27/07) I drove out to Columbia, Missouri. For those of you not familiar with this Midwestern parcel of dirt, Columbia is right around the middle of the “show me” state. It is a college town, built up around the University of Missouri, Columbia. (One of the finest Journalism schools in the country, among other subjects)…Anyhow, it is also home to a thriving pagan community and an annual wintertime gathering known as “Magickal Hibernation” sponsored, put together, organized, and otherwise presented by Ozark Avalon. This was my third year as a guest speaker at this event, and as always it was a great time. While the gathering isn’t huge by any means, there is a respectable attendance. They set up at a local hotel where a ballroom is set aside for vendors and conference rooms are set aside for workshops and a hospitality suite. Registration is positioned in the lobby, and everyone from the con staff right down to the attendees are wonderful, friendly, and a joy to hang out with.

This year, Author Ellen Dugan, Artist Mickie Mueller, and Author Mike Nichols were headlining the event as well, so we all presented workshops on everything ranging from Wicca’s Wonder Years (a witchcraft and pop culture seminar by Mike) to Spells for Love (Ellen), as well as  Magical Body Art (Mickie) to Magick in the Trenches: No Fluff, No Sparkle, Just Results (yours truly)… But, enough about them…this is all about me! (Just kidding…sort of…It IS all about ME, but believe me, the above listed are all good friends, colleagues, and wonderful folks; each of them. And, I love them all dearly.)

But, back to me …

I presented two workshops, the above listed as well as the Unconscious Magick workshop which has now been made available on Youtube (watch it via the link above). Both were well attended, but the Magick in the Trenches seminar definitely ended up being a full house. I wasn’t sure what to expect because this particular workshop is somewhat controversial, and when Dorothy Morrison and I have done it in tandem we have actually upset a few individuals with our view on “no fluff, no sparkle”…However, I was met with a wonderfully open minded and curious crowd. We discussed various aspects of magick, and I even enlightened the group on a few things. (Something tells me a few folks are probably going to be visiting cemeteries and asking ancestors to borrow a bit of dirt in the near future…If you don’t know what I mean by that you need to see the workshop!)

So, anyway, in addition to getting to hang out with great folks, wear my voice out trying to talk over a band that was playing next to the workshop area, and getting my picture taken with THE Smokin’ Hottie Babe of the Pagan Art World (Mickie), I also had another bizarre and wonderful experience…What was that you ask? Well, I’ll tell you.

Two long time fans, one of whom I had met at a past booksigning, and another with whom I had only corresponded via email, were in attendance. Now, these two folks are insane, I have to tell you. But, they are insane in a good way (read: same kind of general insanity from which I also suffer…) They had warned me that they would be there and that they had a surprise in store. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect out of these two, as I had yet to discover just exactly how wacky they really are. Fortunately for me, the surprise didn’t involve the plot of Stephen King’s Misery.

However, these two wingnuts DID come dressed as stalkers…How did they do that, you ask? Well, just check out the picture below….

Left to right: Johnny “Force Majeure”, me, and Tasialue

So, as you can see, not only did these two nutcases come dressed as stalkers, but they also presented me with my own sweatshirt which readily identified me as the object of their stalking…

Like I said… Wacky Fun!

Now, I have to get back to writing, so till the next time!

MR

“Twas the Night Before Christmas, 21^st Century Edition”

Copyright © 2006, M. R. Sellars

Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house,

Not a creature was stirring, not even my spouse.

Her wet stockings were hung in the bathroom with care,

My razor was dull and full of her leg hair.

My wife was nestled all snug in our bed,

While visions of shoe sales danced in her head.

When out in the living room there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my keyboard to empty my bladder.

And what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But some fat S.O.B. drinking my last beer.

His eyes were unfocused, and his cheeks were a-flush,

I could tell at a glance that Santa was a lush.

His knees how they wobbled as he finished with a slurp,

Then he got up from his chair and let out a burp!

“Hi there, young fella,” he said with a *hic*

“Best get outta my way, I think I’m gonna be sick!”

He rushed to the bathroom and I heard my wife scream,

Seems she was in there and didn’t think this too keen.

What was next to occur was kind of a shock,

I found her pummeling Santa with our new alarm clock!

“Hey honey, chill out!” I said with a start.

“Surely you don’t wanna kill the old fart!”

“Look lady,” Santa cried as he lurched and careened,

“I only got airsick ’cause I forgot my Dramamine!”

“So you’re NOT just some drunk?” I asked as he scratched his crotch.

“Of course not,” he replied, “But I WILL take a Scotch!”

“And to show there’re no hard feelings,” he chortled with glee,

“Tell me what is it you’d like to find under your tree.”

I took a sharp breath, and held it inside,

Santa you fool, you’d better run and hide.

You’ve asked the wrong question, instead of the right,

And now you’re gonna be here the rest of the night.

My wife’s eyes sparkled, teeth showing as she grinned,

And the next thing I knew she had the guy pinned!

Catalogs flew, and flyers they fluttered,

Creating immediately a large pile of clutter.

Santa couldn’t move and his eyes filled with fright,

Seeing her chance my redhead squealed with delight!

“Some diamonds and pearls, from this place and that!

Some pumps and some boots, and maybe a hat!”

She ran down her list in a voice filled with glee,

All I could think was “I’m glad it’s not me!”

Santa wriggled and squirmed as she sat on his chest,

Then he shouted and hollered, “Hey, give it a rest!”

But my wife wasn’t finished, that much I knew,

For she held that elf down and started anew.

“Sapphires and rubies, and rings of white gold,

I don’t even care if they’re new or they’re old!

A black leather jacket and a skirt that goes with it,

Matching gloves and a gift card that spends without limit!

A full length fur coat, synthetic of course,

Hey! Are you taking this down? Don’t make me use force!”

The old guy kept kicking, and somehow broke free,

How he managed to do so was way beyond me.

But my redhead was behind him as he sprang for the door,

While she screamed, “No, don’t leave now, for I want so much more!”

Santa ran through my yard as though he were scared,

And I can’t say I blamed him, for I doubted I’d be spared.

He hollered, as he raced, his words not too thrilling,

In fact I must say they were in all senses chilling.

With what he said, I had no choice but to agree,

For she was all wound up and he was leaving her with me.

Now here’s the last thing I heard, as he fled from this strife,

“I’d stay for that scotch, but I’m afraid of your wife!”