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

It can be a little disconcerting to see your wife jump out of a helicopter and into a river. But then, there’s very little that isn’t disconcerting about Her Supreme Evilness. Take for instance the fact that she isn’t who she says she is.

Hell… She isn’t even who she thought she was.

I suppose that sort of comes with the territory, though. I mean, when you are trained by a covert government organization such as the KGB – which actually stands for Kill Goddamned Bugs, by the way – and then put into place as a sleeper agent for RAID with a code name of Evil… Well, let’s just say there can be some identity issues.

Of course, oddly enough, she embraced the Evil part right out of the gate. I mean, as in even before she was “activated.” Probably has something to do with the red hair.

But anyway… The truth came out as soon as the Japanese Beetles showed up. Next thing you know E K was extracting venom from spiders, riding around on buses, blowing up funerals, shooting up the general area, killing off various exterminators, and infiltrating the corporate offices of nationwide pest control companies in search of the launch codes for their arsenal of ICPM’s (Intra-Continental Pyrethrin Missiles).

However, like I said, the last time I saw her she was jumping out of a helicopter. Apparently there are “many more” rogue beetles remaining in the U.S. and Evil is on a revenge binge…

More to come…

Murv

Plot, Poster, and Tagline parodied from SALT (2010)