" /> BRAINPAN LEAKAGE
  • Virtual Stalker…

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    I have a stalker…

    Actually, that’s nothing new. I’ve had a couple of them over the years. Maybe even more than a couple. After all, a really good stalker goes unnoticed, right up until they kidnap you and make you write books about characters you’ve already killed off. Of course, is there really any such thing as a “good stalker”? Perhaps there is a person who “stalks well,” but a “good stalker”? I just don’t know…

    Still… There are “Murv’s Stalkers”. They are a fan club of sorts, so I guess they could be classed as “good stalkers”. Although, there are a couple of them that worry me. Especially that kid named after that defunct Lunch Meat company. There’s something seriously not right about him, I’m here to tell you. If you ever see something in the news about me being missing, I’d suggest you stop eating cold cuts and go look for him. Or, if they say I was killed by a pie. If the pie was key lime, he’s definitely the perp…

    But, I digress…

    I was actually talking about a different stalker. This one is sort of random and sort of specific at the same time. I know, really weird, eh?

    So, the think is, he – or she… I’m not exactly certain about the gender – also seems to have enlisted the aid of others, which is even creepier.

    I first became aware of this stalker a few months back when – we’ll call he/she/it “widget” – suddenly disappeared. I know, kind of an odd time to notice a stalker. Allow me to explain…

    You see, I logged in to my Facebook profile and suddenly “widget” was gone. I knew this because my friend count had decremented by one. At first, I assumed it was simply because someone decided I wasn’t all that funny and had given me the boot. That happens every now and then. Strange in and of itself, but hey, so am I. Anywho, later that day “widget” re-appeared. That is to say, my friend count INCREMENTED by one, all by itself. No new “friendings”… Just poof, up goes the number…

    In recent weeks this has become a daily occurrence. Not only daily, but sometimes hourly. And, it’s not just “widget” who does the disappearing act. Sometimes 5 of them will go away, then mysteriously return. Or, sometimes, it’s 3… Or 2… But, without fail “widget” will pop in and out at least 1 time per day.

    I have to wonder if this might be “widget’s” way of trying to get my attention. After all, Facebook is a pretty busy place, and as we know, I’m very easily distracted…

    Oh look! A CHICKEN!!!

    Ummm… Now… Where was I? Oh yeah, “widget”…

    Some day I figure I’ll find out who “widget” really is. I mean, virtual stalker or not, someone has to be behind it.

    Just for the record, my money is on that Lunch Meat Kid.

    More to come…

    Murv

  • When In Rome…

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    “So… What do you think,” I asked.

    “Well,” My friend said. “He’s an Australian Cattle Dog, right?”

    “Yep,” I replied. “That’s exactly my point.”

    “Yeah, I hear you,” he said with a nod. “It doesn’t look like Australia at all, does it?”

    “Not to me. That’s why I wanted you to look at it.”

    “Why me?”

    “Well, I’m thinking there must be a reason, and since you play RISK a lot, maybe you’d have some insight.”

    “True. There is that…” he mused.

    We were standing at the doorway to my kitchen. This was several years prior to the gut remodel, so the configuration was less than stellar; not to mention that the decor was already 10 years out of date when E K and I purchased the house.

    “Well, I don’t really think he’s trying to take over the world or anything… What do you feed him?” My friend asked.

    “Dog food… Maybe a few table scraps,” I said.

    “Spaghetti?”

    “Not that I recall. No lasagna, or anything like that either,” I replied. “You don’t want to spill a beer around him though. It’ll be gone in nothing flat.”

    “Foster’s?”

    “Doesn’t seem to matter.”

    “Hmmmmm…”

    Quigley, the Aussie Cattle Dog was sitting in front of us, a piece of linoleum hanging from his mouth and his tail thumping against the floor. He seemed particularly proud of himself – and, most especially, proud of the rather large map of Italy he had somehow managed to create by tearing up sections of the godawful floor covering.

    “Well, if you believe in reincarnation, maybe he was Italian or something in a past life,” my friend offered. “Or, maybe he was a cartographer…”

    “Or an interior designer,” I added. “That linoleum is pretty ugly.”

    “True,” he agreed. “So, how long did it take him to do this?”

    “Well, he did the outline this past Monday,” I said, then pointed and added, “But he just keeps going back and working on that one little section over there. “

    “Well, that makes perfect sense,” my friend said with a nod.

    “Why?” I asked.

    “Simple. Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

    Quigley, the Australian Cattle Dog, really did exist. In fact, Quigley the ACD in the Rowan Gant books is based entirely on the real life pup. While the preceding conversation is an embellished version of the truth, the Quigster really and truly did rip up a portion of our kitchen linoleum when he was a puppy. And, for several weeks, it looked uncannily like a map of Italy… Of course, not being one for sitting still, Quigley eventually expanded the Kitchen Atlas to look much more like Eurasia before we finally began our remodel.

    More to come…

    Murv