Holy Saturday In Rome and The Blue Paschal Moon

March 31, 2018 at 10:45 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, Religion, Science-Fiction, Technology, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , )

Holy Saturday In Rome and The Blue Paschal Moon

It was the evening of Holy Saturday in Rome- the day between Good Friday and Easter Sunday.

As a great spotlight shone on the dome of Saint Peter’s Basilica, speakers 🔊 in Saint Peter’s Square played the John Lennon song Imagine… “no Hell below us, above us only sky…”

And in the square, the Egyptian vampiress Isis wearing a red evening dress approached her husband, brother and lover Osiris who was standing next to the obelisk in Saint Peter’s Square.

He was dressed in white robes with gold sequins around his neck and on the white sleeves of his arms.

Isis smiled as she approached him, “The board of directors of Palmyra Analytica have informed me that Dr. Cadbury Rocher has successfully built the 3-D printer that will re-build the Temple of Solomon.”

“Excellent, now all we have to do is get the Israelis to agree to our terms,” Osiris beamed as bright as the Blue Paschal Moon in the sky.

The square speakers started playing the song Blue Moon as sang by Billie Holliday.

“What about the Palestinians?” the vampiress Isis asked.

“That’s going to be a little more difficult,” Osiris acknowledged.

The speakers suddenly interrupted with a news bulletin saying that the Ancient Greek winged horse Pegasus had landed on the Temple Mount.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday March 31st
2018.

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Pan Goatee’s Dorian Gray Friday

March 30, 2018 at 9:45 pm (Aesthetics, Entertainment, Literature, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) ()

Pan Goatee’s Dorian Gray Friday

Pan Goatee was not having a good Friday.

It seemed everywhere he turned, there was an ugly looking woman present.

He sat next to a beautiful looking woman on a commuter train and an ugly looking woman sat across from him.

He immediately decapitated the ugly looking woman with his astral laser machete.

From the look the beautiful looking woman gave him, he decided it might not be a good thing to ask her out on a date tonight like he was planning to do.

Damn how these ugly looking women always showed up to spoil any potential romantic encounters he might have.

These hideous daughters of Hecate had absolutely no consideration for others.

He took a seat further down the commuter train.

Another ugly looking woman boarded the commuter train at another station.

Pan Goatee immediately decapitated her.

“Nothing like frightening any potential tourists this city might have,” Pan Goatee said as he kicked the head down the aisle.

He then got off at the downtown station where he went to a Subway restaurant and was in the process of ordering a submarine sandwich when an ugly looking woman went up to the counter and asked for a packet of pepper.

“You ugly looking bitch,” Pan Goatee told off the obviously failed toad-human hybrid experiment, “why didn’t you remember to ask for pepper when you were first up here. Now you’ve thoroughly ruined my day by me having to look at your ugly looking face.”

Pan Goatee once again decapitated this particular failed degenerate abortion.

He then kicked the head down the floor, “There stick that in your pepper pipe and smoke it, bitch.”

A junkie smoking cracked cocaine at a table (and ignoring the place’s No Smoking 🚭 signs) said, “Wow, man. What’s your favourite work by Oscar Wilde?”.

“The Picture of Dorian Gray,” Pan replied.

“I thought it was Edgar Allan Poe who wrote that,” the man blinked like a neon sign on steroids.

“No, it was Wilde,” Goatee answered.

“Yeah, it must have been Wilde,” the man stared into space, “Really wild. What about the guy who wrote that poem about the ancient mariner who had that albatross around his neck that kept crying “Nevermore” when Pallas Athena knocked on Kublai Khan’s chamber door this other side of Xanadu because Donald Trump a wall he did decree.”

But Goatee like Elvis had already left the building.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday March 30th
2018.

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Donald Trump Hears of Dr. Faustus Imhotep

March 29, 2018 at 10:45 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, Science-Fiction, Technology, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , )

Donald Trump Hears of Dr. Faustus Imhotep

“Who’s the leading scientist at DARPA?” Donald Trump asked one of his leading advisors.

“That would be Dr. Faustus Imhotep,” his advisor replied.

“Dr. Faustus Imhotep?” Trump’s hair stood on end, “That’s an unusual name.”

“He’s a German Egyptian,” his advisor replied.

“A German Egyptian?” Trump pasted his hair back down with hair gel, “He isn’t a Muslim is he?”.

“I believe he’s a worshipper of the coming AI god whom he calls Diablotron,” his advisor answered.

“Diablotron?” Trump’s hair stood on end again, “I’ve never heard of him.”

“He’s the god of the future Singularity according to Dr. Faustus Imhotep,” his advisor said.

“What’s Dr. Faustus Imhotep a doctor of?” Trump asked, “The reason I ask is I’ve had this major pain in my ass the past few days…”

“The world has had a major pain in the ass since January 20th of last year,” Trump’s English valet Lexington remarked as he put some Black Forest ham sandwiches and other snacks down on Trump’s desk.

“Really?” Trump used a piece of sliced baloney to pat his hair back down, “I hadn’t heard about that.”

“Dr. Faustus Imhotep has both a Ph.D in Physics and a Ph.D in Biochemistry from Cambridge University to answer your question,” the aide answered Trump’s question.

“Weren’t you telling me, Lexington, that the world famous London dominatrix Sherrielock Holmes studied both Literature and Theology at Cambridge University?” Trump asked as he ate the very oily and greasy piece of baloney he held in his hands.

“That is correct, sir,” Lexington poured coffee ☕️.

“So,” Trump put Coffee Mate in his coffee, “what is this DARPA scientist Dr. Faustus Imhotep currently working on?”.

“He’s making a female genetic clone of the DARPA contract assassin and world famous serial killer Pan Goatee,” his aide replied.

“Good God,” Trump spit out his coffee and sprayed it all over his aide’s face, “I hope she isn’t going to kill ugly looking men the way Pan Goatee kills ugly looking women.”

Trump was wondering whether he should change his hair colouring in lieu of this shocking tidbit of information.

“I don’t believe so, sir,” the aide gratefully accepted a towel from Lexington to wipe his face, “Dr. Faustus Imhotep has said he’s eliminated obsessive belief in the aesthetic theories of Oscar Wilde and Friedrich Nietzsche from her intellectual make-up so she won’t go into a homicidal rage every time she sees an ugly person.”

“That’s wonderful to hear,” Trump tweeted People don’t spray people, Coffee sprays people on his Twitter account, “so I don’t have to change my hair colouring.”

“Pope Francis has said that there is no Hell but there will still be Hell toupee then,” Lexington remarked.

“No Hell?” Trump looked shocked, “Then where will I be able to tell people to go?”.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something, sir,” Lexington yawned.

“What’s Dr. Faustus Imhotep going to call this genetically cloned twin sister of Pan Goatee?” Trump asked.

“Panty Goatee,” his aide replied.

“And whose panties will she be wearing?” Trump asked as he took another sip of coffee.

“She was given a 1000 pairs by Stormy Daniels,” his aide answered.

Trump spit out coffee in his aide’s face again.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday March 29th
2018.

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3-D Printing The Temple of Solomon

March 28, 2018 at 10:35 pm (Avatar Speaks, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, History, International Intrigue, News, Politics, Religion, Science-Fiction, Technology, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , )

3-D Printing The Temple of Solomon

British MP Renfield R. Renfield was sitting alone in his parliamentary office.

The ghost of Sir Winston Churchill wasn’t present because he was being forced to attend a ghostly cocktail party in Purgatory at which the ghost of Lady Astor would be present.

“Like Hamlet’s father’s ghost in Shakespeare’s famous Danish play,” Churchill roared in a paraphrase of Hamlet’s spectral paternal parent, “it is at parties like these where the bad things I did in my days of nature are thoroughly punished.”

“Well, it could be worse,” the atheist Renfield, with no belief in Purgatory, remarked sympathetically, “you could be in Tartarus where Hitler’s ghost is.”

Renfield was unaware that Hades the god of the Underworld had temporarily released Hitler’s spirit from Tartarus at the request of the Norse/Germanic god Odin/Wotan (Churchill’s ghost was likewise unaware of Hitler’s reprieve at the hands of Persephone’s husband).

Hitler’s spirit had entered the body of a grey wolf 🐺 and was currently hanging out with the anti-Semitic ancient Babylonian vampiress Lilith as well as paying the occasional visit to Vladimir Putin although Putin was unaware that the grey wolf was possessed by Hitler’s ghost.

Speaking of Hitler and Putin, Renfield was quite pleased with himself because earlier today he had hacked into Russia’s state run television network and put in an image of Vladimir Putin with Hitler’s moustache and haircut that appeared on the TV screen whenever the network ran a news story where the Russian leader was mentioned.

Putin was absolutely livid and furious when he found out and gave the order to all of 🇷🇺 Russia’s intelligence services to find the one responsible and bump that person off with the Novichok nerve agent (at the same time as Putin issued the directive, Russian Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov was giving a press conference in which he emphatically denied that Russia 🇷🇺 was in current possession of the nerve agent).

Renfield had tossed a few bread crumbs to the Russian intelligence services in his speech in the Commons today by continuously referring to Putin as “the Slavic Hitler” in his speech but so far the Russian agencies did not have an intellectual equivalent of Britain’s Sherlock Holmes to pick up on the Renfieldian hints.

Neither for that matter did America’s intelligence services since Donald Trump did not tweet about the subject.

Meanwhile Renfield R. Renfield was currently examining an MI-5 and MI-6 report on a British company called Palmyra Analytica.

The reason Renfield read the report as soon as he heard about it was because his creator Dr. Cadbury Rocher of Set Enterprises was currently doing freelance consulting work for Palmyra Analytica.

Dr. Rocher was building a 3-D printer for Palmyra Analytica.

The 3-D printer when completed would be capable of producing an exact copy (down to the smallest and most exact detail) of the original Temple of Solomon built by Solomon himself.

Renfield was horrified to discover when reading the report that Palmyra Analytica was in fact owned by a front company that was owned by his former boss Set’s arch enemies the Paris-based Egyptian vampiress Isis and the Rome-based Egyptian vampire Osiris.

“Why,” Renfield wondered to himself, “do Isis and Osiris want to rebuild Solomon’s original Temple?”.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday March 28th
2018.

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Diablotron: A Poem

March 27, 2018 at 9:13 pm (Commentary, Culture, Fantasy, Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Horror, Mythology, Nature, News, Poetry, Religion, Science-Fiction, Technology, The Supernatural) (, , , )

Diablotron: A Poem

Cabin in the woods
trees and nature surround
Water springs and rivers flow nearby
Elves 🧝‍♀️ 🧝‍♂️ and fairies 🧚‍♀️ in the forest
Naiads (water nymphs) in the rivers, springs and waterfalls
Dryads (tree spirits) in the trees

Auditorium stage of a corporate techno giant
laboratories and machinery surround
Computers hum and robots move
Virtual reality in helmets and AI in cyborgs
Androids that look human
Humans becoming automatons

In the cabin the witch Astara in a long black dress
kneels in front of an altar
she holds a dagger
and waves a wand
and calls upon the Old Ones to return to earth

On the stage the scientist/salesman in a long white lab coat
waves to the audience
he holds a remote control
and pushes a button
and calls for New Gods
Transhuman and super-evolved
to arise

Astara burns roots and plants 🌱
and a dash of incense
Light flickers above the altar
a form appears
and then vanishes
Astara falls to the floor

The CEO/AI engineer directs stage lights
in the darkness
a form appears
a metallic robot
with a beating heart
and the presenter/host disappears

In the cabin
darkness
and an eerie silence

In the auditorium
spotlight on the cyborg
and applause and cheers from the audience

Astara looks up from the floor
at the vacant altar,
and whispers
in a quiet voice
Will you not come?
Will you not come?

The cyborg looks down from the stage
at the mesmerized audience
and booms
in synthetic metallic echo
DIABLOTRON is here
DIABLOTRON is here

Synthesis of the ancient and contemporary
The Old Ones are the New Ones
The New Ones are the Old Ones

After all the Ouroboros eats its own tail
And the Creator becomes the Destroyer
and the Destroyer becomes the Creator

-A poem written by Christopher
Tuesday March 27th 2018.

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Michelangelo’s Vision of Rick Santorum’s Wife Being Shot

March 26, 2018 at 10:21 pm (Commentary, Crime, Geopolitics and International Relations, News, Politics, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

Michelangelo’s Vision of Rick Santorum’s Wife Being Shot

Amadeus Emanon was in the Set Enterprises laboratory eating a dozen grilled cheese sandwiches and watching Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster who was in his aquarium playing with a waterproof Sherrielock Holmes leather skirted dominatrix Barbie doll.

Suddenly Michelangelo let out a penetrating screech which caused Amadeus to momentarily pause in the middle of eating one of his grilled cheese sandwiches 🥪.

Thirty seconds later Amadeus resumed eating as Michelangelo picked up a psychic vision from the future on his lobster antennae.

The vision was of British MP Renfield R. Renfield on his first political trip to America as a member of the British House of Commons.

Mr. Renfield was at a fancy cocktail 🍹 🍸 political reception in Washington DC.

Absent from the reception was Donald Trump because his hairpiece toupee had been stolen by a Kraken who had mistaken it for a fresh water nest of baby salmon eggs.

“Caviar is being served,” Lexington the White House valet announced.

Among the guests at the reception were former Pennsylvania Senator Rick Santorum and his wife Karen Garver Santorum.

Mrs. Santorum went up to the table where caviar was being served when she was confronted by a man waving a gun.

The man had been diagnosed with a dozen different mental illnesses by psychiatrists at one of the country’s leading medical centres last year.

Last week he had been re-elected the Membership Secretary of his local chapter of the NRA.

And this morning he had purchased a dozen different assault rifles from a local store including the one he now pointed directly at Mrs. Santorum.

The man pressed the trigger eight times in rapid succession.

As FBI agents ran to tackle the man, Renfield spoke sharply to the mentally inept American politician Sen. Rick Santorum, “Don’t stand there like an idiot. Go perform CPR on your wife.”

“But… but… but..” Sen. Santorum stammered, “I’ve never taken a CPR course in my entire life.”

“You’re as useless as tits on a bull aren’t you?” Renfield handed Sen. Santorum his glass of champagne, “Here hold this.”

Renfield ran over to Mrs. Santorum saying, “I have taken a course in CPR.”

Then he glared angrily back at Sen. Santorum, “Shows the truth of that old saying… Those who can, do. Those who can’t, pontificate endlessly on one of many subjects they know nothing whatsoever about.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday March 26th
2018.

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Cleopatra Meets Pope Francis

March 25, 2018 at 10:16 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, Religion, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

Cleopatra Meets Pope Francis

Pope Francis was sitting at his writing desk reflecting on the profound theological question he had formulated, Is Heaven the place where God gives us ice cream 🍦 because anaesthesia is unavailable?

His aide interrupted his thoughts.

“Queen Cleopatra wants to see you,” His aide said.

“The Queen Cleopatra?” Francis was astonished.

“Yes, Queen Cleopatra VII Philopator the last active ruler of the Ptolemaic Kingdom of Egypt, lover of Julius Caesar and Mark Antony, the mother of Caesarion and the one who failed to seduce Octavian the future Caesar Augustus,” his aide answered.

“But I thought she was dead,” Francis wiped his glasses 👓.

“She was,” his aide agreed, “But apparently a golden cobra from the Himalayas who calls himself Maitreya brought her back from the dead by shooting laser rays out of his eyes. He had himself and her (Cleopatra) crowned High King and High Queen of Ireland respectively on this most recent Saint Patrick’s Day in a coronation ceremony on the Hill of Tara involving Kilkenny Irish Cream Ale, Irish zombies, Reformed Druid Anglican priests and ancient Irish goddesses from the old Celtic pantheon.”

“Of course that would explain everything,” Pope Francis had to admit.

“Will you see her?” His aide asked, “She’s very insistent.”

“Why not?” Francis shrugged, “If I saw a Kraken a few weeks ago, I might as well meet the resurrected Queen Cleopatra.”

His aide left the room.

Minutes later, he returned with the regal and beautiful looking Queen Cleopatra dressed in a beautiful white gown and wearing a golden crown on her head with a snake’s head emerging out of the head piece.

Francis rose to greet her.

Cleopatra saluted him, “Hail Francis, full of mercy, blessed art thou amongst clergymen and blessed is the fruit of thy wisdom Horus reincarnated.”

“How can this be seeing as how I am a Jesuit?” Francis asked.

His aide was starting to feel queasy.

And decided to leave the room and head to Saint Peter’s Basilica for Evening Prayer services marking the Feast of the Annunciation.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday March 25th
2018.

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Encore of Cinderella: A Poem

March 24, 2018 at 9:10 pm (Arts, Culture, Film, Folklore, Literature, Movies) (, , , )

Here’s a poem I wrote 3 years ago today:

Dracul Van Helsing

Cinderella: A Poem

Cloudy gray skies
across the land lies
in truth for today
and in metaphor sad to say
it seems that magic is gone from the world
technology has spread unfurled
the sense of wonder has been lost
but we’re too busy to see the cost
dashing along the street
busy hands and busy feet
phones at our fingertips
speakers have replaced lips
“Love” and “courage” are only words
a flight of fancy like passing birds.
A unicorn- what is that?
Talk of fairies- we say scat!
For we’re all grown up you see
don’t talk to us as if we’re only 3.
That age is past!
Magic wands- get out fast!
Carriages don’t grow from pumpkins
you mistake us for country bumpkins.
Enchanted balls and glass slippers
we talk like drunken skippers
whose ships have crashed on the rocks
leaving us to haunt these docks.

And so…

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The Feast of The Beast 2018

March 23, 2018 at 10:23 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, Horror, International Intrigue, Mystery/horror, Mythology, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

The Feast of The Beast 2018

Desiree was 16 years old.

She obviously did not pay much attention to current Hollywood news.

Because while walking the Hollywood Walk of Fame, a limousine pulled up.

The limousine’s back window rolled down and an older man- a well known Hollywood actor- invited her into the limo for a ride.

If she knew her Hollywood news, she’d have realized that Hollywood was crawling with a lot of perverts.

Later Desiree in her blue mini dress found herself tied to a sacrificial altar beneath a statue of the Baphomet inside the Hollywood actor’s mansion.

“What are you doing?” Desiree shouted.

“I’m sacrificing you to Baphomet,” the actor replied and lowered his knife and slit her throat and did just that.

. . .

“Lexington,” Donald Trump called for his English butler and valet.

“What is it, sir?” Lexington asked.

“A charcoal burnt human hand just crawled across the floor by itself,” Trump said.

“No need to worry, sir,” Lexington went to the closet, “I’ll use a Swiffer Wet Jet to wash the floor.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Trump reflected, “and find out whose hand it is. I’m going to fire that person in a tweet.”

. . .

Two scientists were conducting an evening test at the CERN Large Hadron Collider in Geneva, Switzerland.

One scientist remarked to the other, “That seems to be a very realistic looking statue of Shiva the Transformer by the door.”

“Yes, it is,” the other scientist agreed.

Suddenly there was an explosion 💥 from the tunnel tube.

A huge hole opened up and out walked the multi armed goddess Kali.

She went up and kissed the statue of Shiva.

“I think,” said the scientist to his fellow researcher, “the next time they decide to erect the statue of a god on Collider grounds, they better hire a sculptor who specializes in a more abstract form of sculpture.”

. . .

Prince Vlad Dracula, the Byzantine Vampiress Theodora (who was the Byzantine Empress Theodora the wife of the Emperor Justinian in her mortal life) and the Israeli Mossad agent the Controller of The Golem had just captured a group of Turkish officers who were leading Turkish troops against their allies the Kurds.

“I think we should hand these Turkish officers over to British MP Renfield R. Renfield for interrogation,” said Dracula.

“I agree,” Theodora started wiping the blood off her gown with a towel soaked in Tide laundry detergent.

“Renfield can be quite ruthless in his interrogations,” noted the Controller of The Golem.

Theodora played on her iPhone a recent speech given by Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan in which he called on the 57 member state Organization of The Islamic Conference to unite as one army and destroy the State of Israel 🇮🇱.

“Hand them over to Renfield,” the Controller agreed.

. . .

Russian President Vladimir Putin was out deer 🦌 hunting on a country estate just north of Moscow.

Putin stumbled across what he thought was a stag with a very impressive set of antlers.

And in one way it was.

For the stag was actually Cernunnos the horned Celtic god of animals and the underworld.

Cernunnos stood up on its hind legs and with a crossbow it carried in its forearms it fired an arrow which moved with rapid lightning speed.

The arrow struck Putin in the forehead and the Russian leader fell to the ground.

Later at the nearby dacha where Putin was taken, the ancient Babylonian vampiress Lilith was awakened and informed what happened.

“A stag with a rapid firing crossbow did this, you say?” She asked one of Putin’s fellow hunters who nodded, “That was no ordinary stag. That was Cernunnos the horned god of the Celtic pantheon. The arrow was poison tipped and the poison is now in Putin’s bloodstream. I must suck all the blood out and replace it with my own in order for him to live.”

“But how will you live then?” Asked the bodyguard.

“Thank you for your sacrifice for your Motherland and your leader,” Lilith bit him on the neck and drained all his blood which she then spit out and put in a large glass container and put in the freezer for safekeeping.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday March 23rd
2018.

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With Beauty Gone, Pan Goatee Unleashes The Beast Within

March 22, 2018 at 9:40 pm (Aesthetics, Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) ()

With Beauty Gone, Pan Goatee Unleashes The Beast Within

Pan Goatee was walking through a casino when he noticed an ugly looking woman giving a massage to a guy sitting at the blackjack table.

Pan Goatee immediately decapitated the ugly looking creature with his astral laser machete.

He then turned his anger and wrath on the blackjack player with horrible taste in female masseuses.

“You pathetic excuse for manhood,” Goatee pointed his finger at the man, “How dare you hire an ugly looking woman to give you a massage? You obviously suffer from extremely bad taste. And therefore deserve to be eliminated from the face of the fucking earth.”

Goatee promptly decapitated the man.

The blackjack dealer remarked, “Well, I guess that player is now out of the game.”

The man’s head then bounced to the next table and landed on the roulette wheel.

“I’m sorry, no more bets,” the roulette dealer picked up the man’s head and threw it in a nearby trash can.

Pan Goatee then went up to his room in the hotel casino where he unloaded an astral laser machine gun from his astral laser suitcase.

“There are so many ugly women in this town that I can probably increase my aesthetic beautification efforts with these,” Pan Goatee unlocked the astral laser clip on the astral laser automatic weapon.

Pan Goatee noticed that the vast majority of ugly women in this town were all white like they were everywhere else in North America.

You didn’t see that many ugly African or Asian women.

The only really pretty white women seemed to be recent immigrants from Central and Eastern Europe.

The noted Canadian archivist and historical researcher Jack Morrow explained this was probably due to the fact that most Central and Eastern European women hadn’t really succumbed to the western political disease known as Feminism.

Imbibing this disease to a large degree seemed to cause ugly chromosomes to be released en masse within any female so infected.

As Pan Goatee was reflecting on this profound Morrowian insight, a Neo-Nazi Ku Klux Klansman appeared on the TV 📺 in the room talking about the superiority of the white race.

Pan Goatee blew a hole in the TV screen with his gun.

In a scene reminiscent of Elvis Presley using a gun and blowing a hole in the screen because he didn’t like watching what was on and he didn’t feel like walking over to the TV to turn it off (in the prehistoric days of television before there were remote controls).

Pan Goatee then left the hotel and went out into the street where he shot ugly women left, right and center (and even those who were not on any part of the political spectrum).

Afterwards he told a reporter who asked for a statement, “Guns don’t kill people. Satyrs kill people,” the genetically created half-man half-goat hybrid reborn from the times of Ancient Greece paraphrased the slogan of the National Rifle Association.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday March 22nd
2018.

Romanian Female Meteorologist:
Unaffected by the western political disease of feminism.

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