Been watching a lot of Criminal Minds as of late. I know. Huge shock there. Ian watching a show about serial killers is SO out of the ordinary. AJ Cook is hot. I don’t even like blondes that much but man I’d eat my own arm for a chance to sniff her belly button. She can get it, keep it and do whatever she wants with it. Ok… TMI. My apologies. Anyway for those who have never seen the show it’s about a FBI task force named the BAU (Behavioral Analysis Unit). Their job is to capture serial killers, serial rapists, pedophiles, mass murderers, arsonists, etc in an attempt to profile their behavior for use against other sickos. It’s nowhere near as hokey as the CSI family of cop dramas though. It often tells tales of some pretty grizzly acts of human depravity not much different than what you find in the news any given day.
How does this tie into our cats?
Last week I had a case that needed solving. I had come in from running some errands to find multiple crime scenes. There was a poop in the bedroom, a pee in the bathroom and a gross heinous explosive puke in the bedroom closet. Immediately I cordoned off the areas to prevent the crime scene from being contaminated. I’ve logged plenty of years as a CD (Cat Detective) so I knew my keen detection skills would be needed on this one. An initial survey of the scene provided immediate results. I ascertained that it was not a tandem act but in fact a single criminal I was hunting. The two Cats of Interest have long and extensive criminal histories dating back to their earlier childhood. The fact that they’re brother and sister lead many to believe that they orchestrate crimes together but in fact they are competitive. Very rarely do they ever work together yet they both admire one another’s work. To my shock and dismay I ended up seeing an episode of Criminal Minds that called “The Last Word” where two serial killers were essentially competing against one another. This led me to believe I was dealing with a creature far more complex than I anticipated.
Both siblings withstood grueling minutes of interrogation without cracking. I didn’t have enough evidence to pin it on either one specifically and feared I would not be able to solve the case before Suzanne’s return from Ottawa. After the clean up crews came in and cleaned up all the evidence I sat in my office trying to figure out who did it. Precious hours were ticking away. Everyone knows a case becomes incredibly harder to solve after the first 48 hours so I was hard pressed to find something to pin on one of them.
24 hours gave way to 48. Suzanne had returned home and I still couldn’t figure which one of the culprits committed the triple caticide. The last thing I needed was a serial shitter with a puking fetish in the office. Desperate, I tried to free my thoughts up by watching Criminal Minds yet again. I can’t recall the specific episode but as I sat there with the crime scene photos scattered across my desk, sipping my coffee, Agent Hotchner outlined a profile to the group of detectives and beat cops he was addressing. He said the perpetrator was narcissistic, had medium to low level education and obsessed with the act he had committed. The thing that stood out the most is when he said that the killer wants control over the situation and will often insert himself into the investigation. He’ll be at the crime scene, posing as a bystander, observing what the cops are doing. Sometimes he may even call in crimestopper tips to the cops leading them to the crime scene.
It was at that moment it all came back to me. I recalled when I first happened upon the first crime scene in the bedroom. As I surveyed the carnage I remember looking back towards the doorway. There he stood. Partially obscured by the doorframe but staring at me with his piercing orange eyes. My coffee slipped from my hands and shattered on the ground like US Customs Agent Dave Kujan’s did as I realized who had done it.
I raced into the bedroom once again and opened the door to the closet. There he stood; going over the crime scene I had cleaned up only a couple days earlier. He looked up at me with those cold orange eyes and smiled.
If you have been never read The Oatmeal’s “How To Tell If Your Cat Is Plotting To Kill You” you’ll get a kick out of it. It gives some amazing and amusing insight into the mindset of cats. Cat owners deal with a variety of quirks with regards to their furry little companions. It’s never a dull day.
So as I was tooling around doing anything and everything non-blog related and I happened upon one of my less frequently checked email addresses. You know that address you usually sign up for everything with? Yeah. That one. I usually only log in once a week at best to clean up clutter but this time I’d been so incredibly caught up with the world around me that I neglected it for nearly two weeks.
After sifting through the multitude of WordPress messages threatening me to moderate my comments I came across an email from a blogger I haven’t spoken with in a fortnight. It was Dragonfae over at Among the Crystals, Dragons and Fae. She inquired about my well-being and politely informed me that I had been tagged in one of her posts. An overwhelming amount of guilt washed over me at that very moment. Her blog used to be a regular read for me. She’s a kindred soul and we share the same humble beginnings in the blogging world. We both just wanted to put what was on our minds somewhere where people could see. Unfortunately a recent spike in my life outside of the Matrix caused me to neglect not only my blog, but hers and about a dozen other people I stalk– err… follow.
I’ve neglected my mistress of random unconventional observations over at Fix it or Deal…
I’ve forsaken the twisted writing of the force known as the Blurt…
I’ve let the eloquently written tales from Herding Cats in Hammond River pass me by…
I’ve missed out on my little Thoughtsy growing up…
I’ve even been oblivious to the real-life joys, trials and tribulations of my dear lady Thypolar…
I could go on forever but you get my point. Needless to say when she said she mentioned me in a post I was expecting to be burned at the virtual stake for blogging heresy.
Quite the contrary.
Instead of raking me across the coals for being an unfaithful blend I was actually christened with a bloggy award. In fact I was given the prestigious Versatile Blogger Award. I’d seen it around for quite a long time now but never expected it to grace my wall. I thought about it for a bit. I wondered, do I truly deserve an award like this? A guy who hasn’t written a real post in weeks? A blog that often reads like a sociopath’s diary?
But then I realized where else can you get a recipe for Peanut Butter Muffins, look at custom illustrations ranging from serial killers to faeries, read movie reviews and indulge in random rants from religion to noisy neighbors. If that’s not versatile I dunno what is. So on behalf of myself and all the other voices that reside in my head, we thank you for the recognition.
Now on to my award duties. As a stipulation for accepting this I must:
- Post a link to the Versatile Blogger who gave you the award. [DONE]
- Share seven things about yourself that are not widely known.
- Nominate at least five other bloggers.
Since I’ve praised my dear Dragonfae already I’ll just move on to the seven things not widely known about me. That’s kinda tricky. I’m sure I’ve had to do this for another award so I don’t know what I’ve said already or not.
Damn the voices..
- I used to have long hair. Well not 80’s rocker length or anything but long enough to have a Cholo ponytail. Yeah. Me with a ponytail. Drink that image in.
- Since we’re talking about hair not many know I used to have a flat top. Yup. I’m talking a sneeze under Kid ‘n Play height folks.
- A decade ago I couldn’t cook to save my life. Yup. I could burn water back then. Now I have people who can cook their asses complimenting me on dishes I’ve cranked out. Go figure.
- I’m deathly afraid of heights yet I have an insatiable desire to sky dive. I know. Paradox, right? I dunno what it is but I’ve dreamt about that since I was little.
- I tried to be a NYPD officer. Yup. Took the written exam when I was a teenager and everything. Course I took the Psych exam and got put on List B. They never call List B back apparently. I suppose that it turned out for the best. Can you imagine me as a cop?
- I lived in New York City for the greater part of my life and have never been to Coney Island. Is that wrong of me?
- I’ve never had a driver’s license but I can driver standard and automatic.
So now that I’ve divulged even more about myself that I probably shouldn’t have, time to nominate some peoples. Rather than double (and sometimes triple) award people I’m hopefully going to present these to first timers…
- Faith & Stage Fright
- The Chronicles of Jim
- Thypolar’s Uncensored Life
- Random Musings of a Frogged Mind
- Left Handed – Right Brained Artwork of Sherry K.
Rejoice and bask in the glory of being nominated by the Worlds Laziest Blogger!
I’m getting a little fed up with how trendy being a geek has suddenly become. Big Bang Theory is one of the most popular sitcoms nowadays. ComiCon is suddenly THE place to be for all things “cool”. Fantasy books are all the rage. Technology is hip and happening. C’mon! Gimme a fucking break. As if we’re about to forget the centuries of malicious torment people have put us through for our eclectic tastes.
Yes I say we.
I belong to an exclusive club that was formed long before man became civilized. When the monolith suddenly appeared on the rocky outcropping, we were the ones scrawling pictures of it on the cave wall while the others beat each other to death with bones. Geeks and Nerds banded together to bring forth the Renaissance. Who else would question the world being flat? We accidentally triggered the Spanish Inquisition and Salem With Hunts because people came across some of us LARPing in a fields. And yes, we united with the Nerd Brotherhood once again and brought you the Interwebs. They wanted to prove it could be done, we wanted unlimited access to porn.
We do not take kindly to people referring to themselves as geeks. The first rule of Geekdom is that thou can not call oneself a geek unless thou art christened a geek by a geek. Just saying you’re a geek gives you no credibility. Your actions and words must be deemed worthy by a geek of equal or superior heraldry. We recognize, protect and govern our own.
You must also realize that we geeks have many clans. We can specialize in various areas but rarely more than three or four at a time. Anymore would tread upon the hallowed ground of Nerdom. A Geek-of-all-Trades is an often coveted but rarely obtainable position. Techies, dweebs, movie geeks, lit geeks, tv geeks, comic freaks, fanboys (or girls), trekkies, LARPers, video gamers, deadheads, gearheads, potheads, vampers, roleplaying gamers, bunny huggers, tree biters, non-hostile celebrity stalkers, impersonators, mimes, geographers, professional wrestlers, chefs… we go by many names. I am an artist and a movie geek which gives me an almost archon-like position in our caste system. Though I have not achieved the rank of “Movie Geek of Epic Proportions” I strive towards it daily. Not a day goes by where movie dialogue doesn’t filter its way into my conversations. I am a quote machine and have an uncanny knack for recognizing actors before they were famous and predicting if they’ll skyrocket (Hi Jessica Alba – Remember Flipper?). My redundant movie knowledge qualifies me as a living breathing IMDB which makes me utterly awesome at parties.
Tread carefully when you refer to yourselves as a geek ladies and gentlemen. The real geeks out there don’t take kindly to your fly-by-night trend whoring. We are proud of who we are and dread having the bandwagon tip over from all of you jumping aboard. Do not sully what has taken us a millenia to cultivate. We like what we like because it makes us happy. Not because it’s cool. It’s always been that way. Always will be.
Piss off and get your own culture.