First she steals my heart…
Then she steals my freedom…
Next she steals my French fries… (right off my plate)
And then she steals my virginity… Wait… No… That was already gone.
Thing is, now she’s stealing my schtick.
Yeah, I know, Richard Castle is already doing that, but I can’t say too much about that. Last time I did I pissed off the fan club shill.
But, even with everything else, now E K – Her Supreme Evil Redheaded Goddess Techno MILF – is taking my schtick. No, not that schtick… She got that one even before we were married, and she doesn’t even let me see it, much less play with it anymore.
I’m talking about the part where I’m funny.
Okay, stop laughing, I am too funny.
Seriously. Enough.
All right then… So, there I was, engaged in my morning routine. You know, the one that starts at 5:30 AM where I get the coffee going, then give her Eebilness a back massage, followed by setting out her breakfast stuff, yadda yadda…
And that’s when it happened.
There she was, the Eebil Redhead, standing in the kitchen in her sheer black negligee and stiletto heeled mules, as she does every single morning, looking like she had just stepped out of the pages of a Frederick’s of Hollywood catalog…
Wait… That was while I was still asleep. Let’s fast forward a bit…
There she was, the Eebil Redhead, fiery hair sticking out at all sorts of odd angles, one eye shut, clad in sweats and a fuzzy bathrobe. How’s that for truth in advertising?
Anyway, she was standing at the counter peering into a fresh box of Raisin Bran. If you remember my previous blog entries, you know that E K must have Raisin Bran every morning, otherwise people suffer – namely me. I came around the corner just in time to see her eyeball the contents, then eyeball the bowl she had just filled. She did this a couple of times, then closed the top on the box and began to shake it in a most violent fashion. She bounced it up and down, rattled it, beat it on the counter, slung it around in a circle, then shook it some more.
Then she opened it, eyeballed it, eyeballed the bowl, and then did it all over again.
Unable to take it any longer I asked, “Ummmm… What in the world are you doing?”
“Imma rebbstrupping nabn race pins,” she mumbled. You have to understand, when she’s half asleep she speaks the same language she does when she’s drunk (See: Gimme Mai Shooz…)
“What?” I asked.
“Imma rebbstrupping nabn race pins.”
“What?” I asked again, because that’s what I say when I don’t understand someone. Truth is I’ve been saying that a lot lately.
With an exasperated sigh, she cocked her head, put a hand on her hip, drew in a breath and half yelled, “I’m redistributing the raisins!”
“Oh, okay…” I replied. I stood and watched her in silence for a moment, then asked, “Why?”
She pointed at the bowl and said, “Two scoops in every box and I’ve got one of ’em right here.”
I love you honey. I even obey you and try not to complain too much when you beat me severely, use me as a doormat, and steal my French fries…
But now you’re crossing the line. Observational Satire and the associated witty commentary are MY things. You need to stick with being unbelievably smokin’ hot and incredibly evil. It works for you.
Me, on the other hand, humor is all I’ve got.
More to come…
Murv

prematurely canceled series. (As my regular readers know, I’m a Browncoat too.)
And, yes, I will admit it – I even have a limited edition Frank Black action figure, (produced by Sideshow Toys), still pristine in the box, that I hope to have Lance Henriksen autograph for me some day. (In case it isn’t immediately obvious, Mister Henriksen is the actor who portrayed Frank Black in the series). If I’m lucky, since I tend to get booked in to do signings at SF/Fantasy Conventions, maybe our paths will cross. Trust me, if I am ever scheduled for a con and I see that he is a guest there as well, I will definitely be packing the action figure in my suitcase. If it gets searched and the TSA folks laugh at me for being a grown man who is packing around a glorified GI Joe doll, so be it. I mean, after all, it’s Frank Black we’re talking about here…
And as an aside, on the note of dolls, I really wish they had also produced a Katherine Black action figure too, based of course on Megan Gallagher. But then, as I’ve mentioned before, I have sort of a “thing” for Ms. Gallagher – nothing weird, sicko, scary, or stalkerish, mind you… (and trust me, with the research I’ve done for the RGI novels, I know more about that sort of Psychopathology than I ever wanted…) The real deal is pretty simple… Of all the celebrity types out there, I just happen to find her exceptionally appealing. Probably because she – and moreover her character, Katherine Black – remind me of my wife, E K. Yeah, I know, a character is a character. Trust me, I am intimately familiar with the whole transference thing. I can’t count how many times I have had people think that I am Rowan Gant, and I just write the stories. No acting involved. And, I also know that Miz Gallagher and E K aren’t dead ringers for one another or anything of that sort, but they are both absolutely gorgeous, IMHO. However, as I’ve also said before, if I were to ever meet the woman in person I’d probably be so tongue-tied that I would look like an utter moron. So, it’s probably a good thing they didn’t produce a Katherine Black action figure, because if I had one, then had an opportunity to meet Miz Gallagher, I’d probably stand there stammering like a fool. Therefore, she’d most likely run the other direction as quickly as possible and I’d never get it autographed.
