People have asked is my photo that I use really me. Well yes and no. it’s kind of old. Here is a more current picture.
I didn’t want to tell anyone, especially Hugh, because I knew he would try to pressure me for some extra gifts this year, but my hook up with the elves only goes so far. Lord of the Rings gave them an attitude.
© Copyright-All rights reserved by ronovanwrites.wordpress.com 2014
2014 © Copyright-All rights reserved by ronovanwrites.wordpress.com
The last time with the L.A.W. Ronovan and the team faced off against zombies as they made their way toward the home of a key person behind the missing U’s and other letters threatening to make their friend Hugh disappear back in Britain. Just as they thought everything was finally okay they faced offed against an even bigger
“Thanks guys,” said Amira with a wave and a chin thrust. We had Thrillered for at last 10 blocks with the Zombie Horde as they showed us how to find our destination.
“No probs, A. Mak, just make sure I get that signed copy of The Reaping,” said the leader of the dance troop. I wasn’t sure I wanted to see the Musical Comedy theater production they had developed. Thriller meets Walking Dead meets Dirty Dancing. Would Baby eat her Daddy for putting her in the corner? Would she fall apart when lifted in the air? Would Johnny melt when he rehearsed in the river? Were Zombies afraid of water? Wait, was the Wicked Witch of the West a Zombie? Whoa!
“Ronovan?” I shook my head at the sound of the voice. Turning I saw hazel eyes staring into mine.
“Um, ya?” I asked Kate.
“Just checking. You had the concussed look like my daughter Molly used to get when dropped on her head as a flier in cheer.”
“Pretty close. I think I’ve been in Lubbock too long. I’m not all that thrilled to be here.”
“Muahahahaha!” Elena was cracking up. “Not ‘thrilled’. Zombies. Thriller. Hahahaahahahaa.”
“I think brain chick has been here to long too,” said Cat as she flexed her fingers.
“Well we’re here now,” I said, finally shaking off weird thoughts. “Let’s see if Cyril Bussiere is home.” I knocked on the door.
“What do you want?!”
I had not been expecting that kind of answer nor that accent. “You sure this is the right address?” I asked Elena.
“Yep. See the Napoleon shaped door knocker?”
I squinted. “Is that who it is? I thought it was Marlon Brando,” I said.
“It ain’t no Marlon Brando or Nappy Poleon,” said the female voice behind the door.
“Then who is it?” I asked, figuring at least talking was something.
“Dennis Hopper, C.B. loved him some Speed. He watched that movie until the tape done broke in two and then had to get a DVD one.”
“Um, is C.B, I mean is Cyril home? We’re friends of his and kind of need to talk to him,” I said.
“That boy done gone and took off for the FeFe land. Scoundrel that he is. Gave me chocolates and nylons and then throws me to the side.” The door opened and the largest woman I had ever seen was in the door. Now I know people like to say that, but this woman was about 6’9″ and weighed easily 500 lbs. I don’t think there was much fat. She was round with what her Momma gave her. I’ll just say that.
“Urr, um, were you and Cyril . . .,” I began.
“Honey, that man done had me cleaning this apartment for him and that little sweet thing of a wife of his for a year now, and then he just up and leaves. Now what am I supposed to do for a job? Tell me that. Well what you standin’ there lookin’ like some fool who done seen the second comin’ of the Manga Carter.”
I was speechless. I really had no idea what to say to that. I really had no idea really what she was saying and coming from me that is saying a lot, if you really think about it. Things get kind of random around here.
“I know, I know!” We all turned and squinted.
“Honey, you best be turnin’ out them lights,” said the woman. “And put that hand down. This ain’t no class room. Wavin’ your hand like you some kindercare with a need to go number one or somethin’.”
“Sorry,” said Jenna as she put her hand over her smile and lowered the hand that had been waving in the air for attention. “But I bet that dance troop we just left could use some help. They mentioned something about cleaning out some store over on 5th and Walker.”
The woman reached inside and grabbed a bag and stormed out past us. There was silence as we all stared in stunned amazement that it, she moved.
“Okay,” said Amira. “Get going and search the house. C.B, I mean Cyril has obviously skipped the country but we need to find out all we can here before we head out.”
“But if he’s left already we are way behind,” said Cat.
“We have a way,” said Elena as she started dialing a number on the wrist thingy she had on.
The rest of us started searching the place. “Oh look, a Blue Moon,” said Kate.
We all looked at her as we knew the moon was white and shining tonight. She looked back at us and saw the confusion. “See,” she said holding up the bottle. “His favorite beer. I think it’s the Belgian thing about it. Nasty stuff, don’t you think?” She asked as she threw it out the window.
“I got something,” said Amira from a back room. We all rushed down the hallway.
“Looks like he’s been studying up on Oreos and their ingredients. I think these are recipes and he substituted these chemicals for some of the real ones or at least added them,” she said.
Kate leaned over her shoulder to look. She was the ingredient expert seeing as how she was the resident health nut. “If those things are what I think they are then they would add no taste to the Oreos or change the color and actually help burn calories as well.”
“Hugh is addicted to those things,” said Jenna. “Every time there is coffee there has to be some Oreos or some type of biscuit, as he likes to say.” She controlled the smile so it was just a grin. The strain was amazing and we were afraid she was going to pull a dimple muscle. It had happened before from what I had heard.
” And look at these,” said Elena. “Plans for some sort of helmet but no, not a helmet but a mind control device. They look like bowl cut hair styles.”
“Oh no, the Royal Family has those,” said Jenna.
“Mind altering Oreos, Mind Controlling Mop Tops,” I said. “This is bigger than Cyril. Someone must have a closer connection than even this diabolical Frenchxan.”
I noticed they all looked at me. “What?”
“Frenchxan?” Jenna asked. Yes, even she looked at me funny.
“Well he’s French and he lives in Texas so I put French and Texan together and . . .”
“We get it,” said Amira as she turned to Elena rubbing her forehead. “ETA?”
“Should be outside now,” said Elena.
“Okay, guys, time for a trip, outside.” We all marched outside at Amira’s words.
There was an odd blue telephone thing out there. “Wait, I’ve seen one of these on TV. It belongs to . . .,” I began.
“Who,” said a voice as the door opened.
Out walked a man I had only seen on TV. “Anyone want a jelly baby?” He asked in a British accent. I looked around at everyone. They all marched inside and took their favorite color jelly baby from him as if this was common.
“Well, are you coming or swimming?” The Doctor asked.
“Take the red one, Ronovan, the red one,” said Cat over her shoulder with a smile.
“I so can’t believe this,” I said.
“Who would?” Dr. Who asked. Then he laughed insanely as he shoved me in and we were suddenly streaking away.
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I tell you, sometimes I just wish I had stood in bed. I understand what that means and I am sure you can decipher it. There are just some Southern expressions even I am not quite sure of how they came about. I can pretty much figure out where some came from, because lot of them make sense. Stood in bed? Not sure about that.
But as I am speaking this it’s late on Friday night. Yes, I said speaking. You see I have voice to text so I can still write when the hands are bad and well . . . let’s just say right now is one of those times.
Back before my accident I was a dog guy. Loved dogs, English Bulldogs especially for an obvious reason.
But I grew up with Shelties. My parents and I had three through the years. One of the best dogs you can own. If you don’t click the link, think miniature Lassie/Collie. But for some reason they have toy poodle now that is not so toy and very much poodle. But my son ‘B’ is allergic to dogs so no more dogs and to be honest it is selfish to own a dog when you don’t have time to properly play with it and give it the attention it needs.
Then the accident, the fall in my home. Well one day I was looking out the window and saw a cute little creature, a cat. She was so tiny and adorable. I say she now because many of you have heard of Kitty and seen her. Kitty was at first named Alfred or Albert, I can’t quite remember, whatever comes in a can. I bit of humor that amused me. Well it became obvious that Albert was not an Albert. It became obvious when “Daddy” kitty showed up. He was not known as “Daddy” kitty at the time. He was known as “that” cat. Kitty was only allowed to stay because I loved her and she was the first thing that had made me venture outside and enjoy life. Oh those feminine wiles.
As you probably know, Kitty decided for some reason to have children.
Cautious in the back being, well cautious.
Fluffy (Dark coloring)
Spunky-The ever alert.
And of course Kitty who looks very much dazed here.
Yes they all earned their names.
Kitty will no longer have children. As she is an outdoor cat, especially, that was taken care of. The idea was to give the kittens away. Suddenly ‘B’ became fond of Spunky. I must say if you met Spunky you would be fond of him too. Yes, that is Spunky loving on B’s foot. Spunky also comes when calls, or whistled for and likes to play fetch. He also likes to walk to the mail box and back with you while winding through your feet. No, we have not seen any white dogs in the neighborhood.
The morning of what has come to be known as Cat Friday began normally except I slept a little later as I had no reason go arise and help get B going for school. The house was going to gather two cats to take to the vet to ensure no children in the future. I know, there are three, but remember, Cautious earned his name.
Apparently two adults cannot successfully wrangle two cats. Oh sure, anyone can pick Spunky up and put him in a carrier. The only thing is you must be able to handle the heartbreaking “Neoo neoo” sound. Yes, he sounds like he is saying “No, No” and you wish you could die then and there but you must push onward. Then it came time for Fluffy.
Fluffy is larger than this now. Gorgeous cat. Beautiful markings and these gold colored eyes. Looks all sweet and cuddly doesn’t she? After two adults returned from the vet after dropping off two cats the comment of choice was “If I could tape a $20 to her head for someone to take her I would.”
You see, Fluffy might should have been named Feisty, or perhaps Tiger, or Berserker. Yes, cuddly looking kitty is not so cuddly. However in recent weeks she has agreed to be petted. Epic failure occured and then that is when I arose from slumber.
It was now my turn to capture the Fluffinator 3000 Blender. I had not been told at this point she had already escaped and almost clawed one of the aforementioned adults. The plan was made and I patiently outlasted FluffBotKillRon Mark V. I scooped her up, and held her close. There success ended.
The idea was for the door to be opened and I allowed inside to place the beast precious kitty into the carrier. They know what a carrier is so it could not be outside. I say “Open the door”. I hear “B, get out of the way.” At that moment I knew trouble was afoot. I had only seconds from capture to carrier before cuckoo occurred. Those seconds had passed. The screen door opened and in a I went.
So near yet so far. The claws engaged. The squirming commenced. Assistance? Epic Fail!
The adult assisting and that had said thew words “B, get out of the way” belong to a soon to be 70 year old 5 foot tall woman known as Grandma. After all once you have a child, no one has a proper name any longer. Grandma is the one that helps drive me places and the like and watches me during the day and we are staying with her since my accident.
As she proceeded to lock the back screen door and then close the door, yes I did say what you think you read, Fluffykins becomes FluffyInsanity. I was going to say Fluffynuts but I didn’t think that sounded right for some reason. As soon as the outdoors disappeared that was the beginning of the end of what should have been a pleasant morning and day.
Before I describe the end, I will simply say people will ask why I did not release the beast. Well, if I had the beast would have sprang onto Grandma’s head and face. Grandma has Lupus and perhaps Fibromyalgia as well, among her other problems. Yes, my mind works like that and as well as it is my fault Kitty is there and thus the kittens are there and that if I let her go and she somehow got out of the house we would never catch her again. Yes, I really did think of all of that in the seconds of the fight that occurred.
I won the battle and the war. I won it for love these cats and my son’s fondness for them. I was close to 100% anti cat before my accident. Then I fell in love with Kitty.
Right arm:
Scratches from the elbow down and possible bites. Too many to tell which are which. Back of hand looks like fang marks could be claws but considering the pain I think it’s a bite. Fingers scratched up and bitten.
Left arm:
One scratch on actual arm, index finger bitten in several places. Thumb, the base of the nail is cracked and the underside of the thumb where the bottom tooth tried to meet the top tooth is extremely swollen and red and I must admit painful.
Chest:
Scratches
Face:
Scratches and bite marks including a bite on the bottom lip.
Why did I not let her go?
What she did to me could have been done to a 70 year old woman with immune problems. All I did was hold on and pull Fluffy back as she almost escaped and leaped on Grandma. As she bit my lip I closed my eyes in the hopes they would not get clawed. As she was biting down on my thumb assistance, Grandma, finally made it to the carrier and I was able to put Fluffy in.
Needless to say that B saw it happen. He saw the blood on my face and arms and hands. He has been worried all day.
Two cats will be picked up tomorrow, one will hide for I don’t know how long or will disappear until hungry. All I care is that she is now taken care of and wont’ contribute to the population and won’t have to fend off the cats that have been coming around.
Spunky will walk out of his carrier and head to the back door for a treat. Yes, he has been to the vet a couple of times before. He just doesn’t like the trip, but loves the attention he gets there because he is so pretty and loves on everyone that will touch him.
What would I do differently? Things happen. B was curious. Grandma is old and has a habit with the back door. Fluffy was defending herself. Why am I not at the hospital? Fluffy would be put down if I went.
So what would I do differently? Have had someone taping the whole thing. I really would like to see what it looked like as Fluffy bit my lip. You know men always want that woman to get all frisky and attack them and kiss them and bite that lip. Men, let me tell you, go to your own version of the vet and get yourself taken care of so you don’t want that kind of loving any longer. Trust me, it’s not as all that as you think.
Articles may be slow in coming for the next week or so, but I will try to keep up my pace. You know me, I find a way. Where there’s a pill, there’s a way. A little medication joke there. (Yes, next time the furry bag of bones is getting a dose of something in her cat food, yes she is, the adorable little thing.)
Meowch Respect
Cat Man Ronovan
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This could alternately be called Shortened Songs for Today’s kids. I mean seriously, the attention span of kids today is about as long as it takes Mario to die from one of those freaking little turtles…tortoises, whatever the things with shells that walk on land. You tell the video game people they are wrong! Sorry, I had a moment there. Conniptions happen, you know? (You know people really shouldn’t use words they don’t know the meanings of. I am not sure really what a conniption is. Okay I just looked it up. I used it correctly. We’re good to go.)
For those reading today, please keep in mind there is a bit of humor in the truth of the situations I will be sharing.
Sometimes there are moments in a man’s life when he just doesn’t know what to say. Some of us know in those moments to do the obvious . . . shut up. And then there are the other 90% of our gender. It doesn’t matter who your partner is, the male brain still has this innate ability to say the wrong things, even after deep, deep consideration–for those two seconds before opening mouth.
To many men reading today they are thinking “What’s wrong with that?” Your significant one has a brand new shirt on and you don’t know if that means ready or not. They are wearing their ‘around the house’ clothes and you don’t realize it. You have just admitted your lack of attention and you are also coming across as impatient.
The alternative?
or even better
That’s right. Have your clothes ready or even already be ready and the only thing left are perhaps shoes or getting your keys and jacket/coat.
Yeah, you did it that time. You are assuming they will be making dinner. Perhaps that isn’t what you meant, but that’s what you just said.
The alternative?
At this point suggestions are made and possibly a division of cooking assignments are volunteered for.
I wont even finish that one. Anytime you begin a sentence, a question with “Did you”, a mistake has been made. You are now about to make an accusation of forgetfulness. I know, I know that is not what you were going after but that is what is heard. Be honest, don’t you feel that way when it is said to you?
The alternative?
Depending on what it is, check for yourself if whatever it is was done. If not something you can check on then tread lightly.
All I can say here is ask a question that depends on whatever it is having been done. For example; perhaps you are planning a trip to the mountains and all that is being waited on is the car being serviced. You could go to the car and check to see if it has been, look for a receipt, or even call the place where it would have been done, but if you are still not that motivated then perhaps this will work for you;
I was going to add, “before the leaves have fallen” but that would have implied pressure to have something done. In this day and age none of us wants that.
Seems harmless enough but it implies the “This is what I want and I expect you to agree” thing.
The alternative?
I know, you are opening up a huge range of possibilities, or just two that you care about. Your way or their way, which would be any other way but your own. Well that’s when you have to learn.
Just a few of those phrases I’ve learned over the years. Some might help. Put some variation in it or they will know what you are doing as you answer or speak the same way each time.
Ronovan
2014 © Copyright-All rights reserved by ronovanwrites.wordpress.com
For those who read a recent Haiku I wrote that mentioned the word bowels, every time I hear that word I think of this bit of humor and scripture. Mark Lowry is a talented comedian and singer. He is the writer of a very popular song called Mary Did You Know. He was part of a group called the Gaither Vocal Band, the first Christian concert I ever went to.
He’s hilarious and a storyteller. I hope you enjoy.
The continuing saga of Ronovan’s search to save his friend Hugh from disappearing at the hands of the Grammar Black Market. Ronovan has joined up with The L. A. W., The League of Awesome Women to find out is happening. We find our hapless Chunk in the middle of the dark streets of Lubbock, TX the Fab Fem Five. If he only knew what had been going on in England with Hugh and Miss Maple and the Royals.
The cast:
Lubbock, TX, population-just under 300,000 and home to three universities, it isn’t surprising we would find a major minor bad guy here, especially one that considers himself an academic.
“Ronovan is with us and we are about to go in,” said Jenna. I wondered who she was talking to on that wrist communicator thing all the L.A.W. members were wearing. I had an idea since her accent had gone all British that it wasn’t Dick Tracy. Knock knock jokes were not my forte. Let’s just say they ain’t in my rep-o-twar-ay. (To find out who Jenna was talking to click here.) I wiped my forehead . . . again. Nights were still hot in Texas, or was it the humidity?
Heat was still rising off the concrete sidewalk even though the sun had set over hours ago. I could smell the old exhaust fumes on the empty street. They burned my nose with each breath.
“Too bad we couldn’t bring the ship all the way,” said Kate. “But we’ll get to work the kinks out of our muscles after that long trip.” I had noticed Kate had a lot of energy or perk or something. I thought perhaps too many chocolate covered espresso beans in the L.A.W. Mobile or a few ‘bad’ mushrooms had found their way into her kitchen, but it turned out she was a fitness freak.
Yes, I said it. When it’s dark and you were walking down a dark, creepy street in Lubbock, TX, yeah, I’m going to call her a fitness freak. Just not to her face . . . or within hearing distance . . . of the planet.
“Slow down, Kate,” said Amira. “We can’t rush into this.” She glanced to her sister. “What do we have on Lubbock?”
Elena tapped the side of her glasses as we walked slowly along the dark street, leaving the safety of the camouflaged L.A.W Mobile farther and farther behind. Elena’s eyes moved back and forth rapidly. “Not much to worry about. There have been some weird reports of ‘zombie parties’ lately. Wish we could check one out. That would be so cool.”
“Not as cool as ours was,” said Amira. “I love that show. Zombies and TV and hit show, who would have thought.”
“Tru dat, home spice . . . nice . . . rice . . . you got that right, sis.” You had to love Elena as she was just so smart and adorable. All I could do was shake my head at the young lady I had come to think of as uber intelligent. Just like with me, stick with what you know, right? Ferizzle my frizzles. Word.
“So I am like so worried about my beta reader not liking my next chapter,” said Jenna, apparently finished with her knock knock jokes. Cheerfulness had a way of lightening even the darkest streets. But it was still creepy and exhaust fumey.
“Someone is reading your fish?” I asked.
“No, you silly. A beta reader is author geek for test reader. But authors couldn’t pass an English test if we tried so we like to call them beta readers or we freeze up at the thought of a test. Talk about humongoso writer’s block.” She flashed a smile.
“Stop that!” Cat growled. I jumped. Foot slipped. Body fell. Noise echoed. I was going to seriously need some new undies after this was over with. “That smile of yours keeps lighting up everything and gives us away.”
I stood up as quickly as possible from the hot concrete, keeping my distance from growly face.
“Oopsies, my bad,” said Jenna as she covered her smile with her hand. Dimples showed on either side. “But as I was saying, my beta reader won’t like that I wrote about an M&M invasion of Cookie Land. It’s not exactly in keeping with the book plot.”
I couldn’t help but laugh a little. I could just imagine the look on someone’s face reading that. I looked up and noticed we had fallen behind slightly. Kate had picked up the pace again and the others had followed along without noticing.
“Well you could always write about some whacked out security detail for the president run by cartoon characters. I bet that would really throw the reader off. But we better catch up to the others,” I said.
We both started walking a little faster when we were suddenly faced with a hit video from the 1980s. And I was not thrilled . . . at all.
“Excuse me,” I said as we tried to go around the party machine.
The bodies moved with us, not allowing us to pass. “Uh, Ronovan, dude, look,” said Jenna. I looked where she was pointing.
“Seriously?” I asked.
“Amira! You’re missing the partyyyyy,” Jenna called out.
All we could see around us were people dressed up like zombies. “You know, you’re a bit old to be doing the zomtusi,” I said to the man who was either 20 years older then I or 20 younger. I had a bad feeling. The makeup was great but I wasn’t sure Hollywood was called in for just a party to make people look this bad this good. “But I am seriously hoping to hear some Vincent Price voice coming through a boom box somewhere and a beat kickin’ it.”
One of them reached out and grabbed Jenna’s arm. She did what any woman would do. Now I don’t know about that whole zombies feeling no pain. But this one felt pain as he dropped to his knees clutching his zombies.
“Well they aren’t the dead kind,” said Jenna. Random one-liners came to mind but before I could do anything she kicked it up a notch.
The next thing I knew all I could see was blonde hair flying all around and the bright light from her smile blinding our attackers. I felt hands grab my neck from behind. I screamed like a . . . high pitched voiced man? Yeah.
That’s when the rest of the L.A.W. arrived. I’m not going to attempt to describe the action that took place next as they all did some serious To Wong Foo Julie Newmar moves on some Crouching Zombies Hidden Aladdins, yeah apparently one of the guys didn’t know the theme of the party and came as Aladdin, and quickly had things under control.
Elena knelt beside one of the unconscious undead or whatever. “These guys are legit. This isn’t makeup,” she said. “Those zombie parties might have been more than reported.” She looked around. “Anyone have any wine?”
“Then what’s with the Arabian Nights guy over there?” I asked.
Amira looked at the guy in a little vest and balloony pants as she handed Elena a flask. Then looked back at me. “Hey, we hit first.”
“I know and ask questions later,” I said.
“No, we just hit first. We usually aren’t around for later,” she said. “Why do people bother with waiting around for asking questions? It just causes law suits and hurt feelings.”
“You think this zombie crap is that powder concoction they use in the islands?” Cat asked.
Amira looked around at the bodies. “If so it would take a lot of it. Not sure where they would get a big batch of puffer fish powder around here.”
Elena passed the flask back to her sister. She had a yuck face on. “Did you guys press that with your feet after a soccer game?” She asked.
Amira turned the shiny metal container upside down. “Apparently you like Chateau le Foot 2012.”
“Texas Tech University Health Services Center is here. They would have just about any chemical or powder you would need, I would think,” said Kate. Thank goodness hew as looking at her wrist communicator. I saw the screen and she was playing Minecraft. “Mandi, don’t do that or I will seriously kick your cheery butt when I get home,” she mumbled.
I nodded slowly and turned. “So someone with a bit of medical background and knows some biology stuff, huh?” I stopped and looked at Amira and Cat. “How do you know about puffer fish and zombies?” I was getting a little creeped out. Okay, I was way past that.
“Do you need to know?” Cat asked as she took a step toward me. A whistling sound echoed through the dark streets. Everyone lifted an ear as if trying to detect where it came from, everyone but me.
“Um, it sounds like you’re right, Ronovan,” said Elena. We were still on the same track.
“Uh, guys,” said Jenna. “Yeah, I think they really want to party with us.”
We all turned and looked up the street the way we had been walking. There were dozens of zombies headed our way. I turned. “They have friends,” I said. There were more behind us. I couldn’t believe it.
“Ladies,” said Amira. “Let’s get ready. Cat, get the attitude on. Kate pump up the perky. And Jenna . . .”
“Yeah?”
Amira’s eyes narrowed. “Lock and load the dimples,” she said. “We got some zombie butt to smack down.”
“Yay, I love butt smacking,” said Jenna.
I just wanted Chinese food, some tacos and a football game. What was I doing in the middle of a zombie butt smack down?
Much Respect
Ronovan-Lost In LalaLand
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“As a writer, I like to say I have found my voice since writing hundreds of articles. I now frequently receive mail wishing for me to find laryngitis”-Ronovan
2014 © Copyright-All rights reserved by ronovanwrites.wordpress.com
Yeah, don’t hate me for this, but it’s like so true at times.
G
She had been thinking what I had. There had been only one person either of us who could think of who would have it in for Hugh and the British, and that person had been planning for years by hiding in plain sight in Texas. What a brilliant plan. (And when did she do the wardrobe change?)
Who is the L.A.W. after in Lubbock?
Who in Lubbock would have it in for our friend Hugh in England?
Come back next time and find out who and the reveal of why there is craziness going on all around Hugh in . . .
For those of you just joining the mayhem I suggest you might wish to peruse our beginnings in the transoceanic caper.
By Hugh Roberts of Hugh’s Views & News
And then my response:
Ronovan
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ronovanwrites 