BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

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

Some of you may remember awhile back I had a series of blog entries about “Merp the Tech Hamster.” If you don’t, then go here:

February Is Hamster Month

Just follow the “Next” at the bottom of the entry, and each subsequent entry, to see all eight. Suffice it to say, way back when I used to doodle a bit. I’m definitely not what you would call an artist, but I could come up with a passable stick figure when pressed to do so.

As it happens, I used to doodle all sorts of things. Some of them utterly worthless, some of them not half bad, some of them not fit for mixed company – but that’s a different story. At any rate, I was surprised and delighted to receive an email the other day from a former co-worker. We’ll call her the Tamminator. Mostly because her name is Tammi. That, and the fact that I once saw her stomp on a bug with malicious intent. His name was…  Well, that’s a whole ‘nother story too, suffice it to say I’m willing to bet he has a few scars to this day.

Either way, I worked with the Tamminator for several years, and as we know I tend to amuse myself by poking fun at stuff. Well, I tried not to poke fun at the Tamminator, lest I meet the same fate as that guy… I mean, bug… but I did poke fun at stuff around her. One thing in particular being her ferrets.

You see, she had pet ferrets. Now, I need to point something out here – I’m not a ferret person. I don’t have anything against them personally, but I’m just not a ferret kinda guy. I leave that up to Major Frank Burns (Gratuitous M*A*S*H reference for you youngsters out there)… So anyway, the Tamminator used to have pictures of her ferrets on her desktop, and used to babble incessantly about them like they were kids. Fair enough, everyone talks about their pets that way.

But you know me. It gave me fodder…

One of the things she used to talk about was the ferrets doing what she called the “weasel war dance” whenever they were getting ready to play tussle with one another, or attack an empty paper towel tube or some such. She also had a picture of one of them peeking through the blinds as if on some sort of stealth recon.

And, well… I just couldn’t NOT do something with that… So, here you have the attachment from that recent email. A doodling of the military ferret kind, inspired by the old Sgt. Rock type of comic books from my youth, where in the early pages they would introduce the members of a particular squad.

The Tamminator is pretty sure she has more of these doodles, and if she runs across them I’m sure she’ll shoot them my way. To be perfectly honest, until this showed up, I had completely forgotten about drawing them.

And so, without further rambling, I give you…

The 151st Airborne Attack Ferrets

Image Copyright © M. R. Sellars

"Taking stuff and hiding it is our mission..."

More to come…

Murv