Jack O’ Hare Solves The Case of The Monkey’s Stolen Fur: A Poem
Jack O’ Hare Solves The Case of The Monkey’s Stolen Fur: A Poem
In the land of bunny rabbits, there was none so fair
as that female rabbit loved by Jack O’ Hare
And so as Jack hopped and then sat in the village square,
he sang, I love Jeannie, she’s a dark brown hare.
No one loves me, wept a red spider monkey
who sat next to a Russian riding a Democrat donkey
Why ever not? asked Jack O’ Hare
as he made faces at the Russian bear
Because I happen to be bald all over
no one will roll me over in the clover
Jack asked, What happened to your fur?
Someone stole it while I was at Big Sur
Jack queried, Any idea where it went?
The monkey said, No, it was stolen from my tent ⛺️
Do you have a pic of what it looked like?
Jack would be on the lookout for a red spider spike.
The monkey had a photo of himself with fur
It was a clear pic although Hillary was a blur
And later as Jack hopped into a Burger 🍔 King
to order a carrot 🥕 cake special along with onion ring
he saw a sight that made his heart sing
For there was the red spider monkey’s spider fur atop the head of a real ding-a-ling
The toupee wearing Donald Trump was meeting Kim Jong-un
when his hair piece was stolen by the Easter Bun
or so it was reported in the New York Times and Chicago Sun
Oh somewhere in this happy land
The red spider monkey was leading the band
for his fur had been returned- fur worth a lot of grand.
-A Jack O’ Hare poem
written by Christopher
Monday March 12th
2018.
Renfield Rescued By Norse Valkyrie and Then Discusses Putin With Churchill’s Ghost
Renfield Rescued By Norse Valkyrie and Then Discusses Putin With Churchill’s Ghost
Last night Sir Renfield R. Renfield MP had been saved from drowning in the Thames River by the Norse Valkyrie Svipul who had been flying overhead at the time.
Mr. Renfield had found himself caught up in an avalanche of snow and a wave of rainwater while singing badly performed renditions of old Rod Stewart and Glen Campbell songs.
The combined avalanche/wave pushed Mr. Renfield into the icy Thames River where Mr. Renfield could not extricate himself from such a predicament unless he was wearing a pair of snow flippers which he wasn’t (namely because such an unusual pair of foot apparel – a combination of snow shoes and scuba flippers- hasn’t been invented yet).
Fortunately for Mr. Renfield, the Norse Valkyrie Svipul had been flying overhead at the time.
Also fortunately for Mr. Renfield, the Norse Valkyrie Svipul did not recognize him as the individual who had butchered the lyrics and melody of the Liebestod from Richard Wagner’s opera Tristan und Isolde while performing a filibuster on a Brexit bill in the Westminster House of Commons a couple of months earlier.
Otherwise she’d have probably let the shapeshifting hamster/human British Transhumanist MP drown.
Mr. Renfield was much warmer now having put on a dry pair of clothes and also having received a thorough bottom blistering spanking from the Norse Valkyrie Svipul (who it turns out was a good dominatrix friend of the immortal dominatrix Sherrielock Holmes).
Mr. Renfield was now seated in his parliamentary office on an extra extra extra comfortable cushion on his chair at his desk seated across from the ghost of Sir Winston Churchill.
“So according to the Foreign Secretary Mr. Johnson’s speech in the Commons earlier today,” Churchill sipped on his ghostly brandy, “a certain foreign power may be responsible for the unknown substance attack on former Russian spy Sergei Skripal and his daughter Yulia Skripal in what is now being called the Salisbury Incident.”
“Yes,” Renfield nodded, “the Russians will probably stonewall high enough around Salisbury that they’ll erect a Russian Stonehenge to match the Druidic one.”
“No doubt the invisible hand of Mr. Putin is behind this,” Churchill rubbed his ghostly chin thoughtfully with his ghostly fingers.
“Undoubtedly,” Renfield sipped his non-ghostly and definitely non-ghastly brandy.
“If these ghastly events continue,” Churchill bit his ghostly lip, “Vladimir Putin may have to be bumped off.”
“Yes, I’ll probably have to bump Vladimir Putin off,” Renfield agreed as he accepted the Raymond Red Reddington Award that had been given him by an admiring fellow blogger.
“Well,” Churchill peered at Renfield over his ghostly spectacles 👓, “If any person in the world is capable of bumping off the notorious Mr. Putin, it would be you, Mr. Renfield.”
“Well, it certainly wouldn’t be Donald Trump,” Renfield agreed.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday March 6th
2018.
The City After Twilight: A Poem
The City 🌃 After Twilight: A Poem
And so the sun has set
tongue requires something wet
you head downtown to a nightspot
something cool to drink perhaps sex that’s hot
In the lounge cigarette smoke fills the air
the cushion is velvety at the back of the chair
You have martini 🍸 with a slice of lime
you ordered it for neither reason nor rhyme
you are the last of a kind- a private eye
accustomed to neon lights and starlit sky
The nighttime is your working day
clearing thugs and hooligans out of the way
They say the knights of old have come and gone
fairy tales told to child stifling a yawn
But for one such as yourself
a lance and steed might be on the shelf
but you have traded shining armour
for fedora and trench coat
an office with ceiling fan instead of castle with moat
But like those knights of old you walk alone
distress sounds not from blast of trumpets but from ring of phone
Those maidens in distress not in towers with long flowing hair
but walking the streets in heels
and tight skirts for wear
The dragons 🐉 today do not breathe fire
Instead they employ hit men for hire
And rulers turn not to ones like Merlin for advice
but lawyers, accountants and padded pockets on ice
You look at your watch and see that midnight 🕛 calls
your lunch hour is over served as the olive in your hour glass falls
You pick up your coat and head out the door
the streets and alleys call like the wild forests of yore.
-A private eye poem
written by Christopher
Sunday February 25th
2018.
Happy Birthday, Sherrielock Holmes
Happy Birthday, Sherrielock Holmes
The quite literally immortal dominatrix Sherrielock Holmes (who was Sherlock Holmes’ lesser known twin sister) was turning 164 today.
Many years ago, Sherrielock had eaten some Lingzhi Supernatural mushrooms and become immortal.
Sherrielock was being taken out to dinner by her great grandson Dr. Cadbury Rocher.
They arrived at the Avebury Arms Pub to sample their delicious 😋 steak and kidney pies.
Sherrielock was dressed in an elegant turquoise green evening dress.
“Tell me, Aunt Sherrielock, did you ever offer a plate of Lingzhi Supernatural mushrooms to great uncle Sherlock?” Cadbury was anxious to know.
“I did,” Sherrielock nodded, “but he refused. He longed to meet Irene Adler again.”
“So great uncle Sherlock did come to believe in an afterlife?” Cadbury inquired.
“He did,” Sherrielock sampled her steak and kidney pie, “Ummm, heaven.”
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday January 6th
2018.
Agathor Christie Meets Vampiress Isis In Paris
Agathor Christie Meets Vampiress Isis In Paris
The London based private eye Agathor Christie was meeting the Egyptian Vampiress Isis in a cafe along the Champs Élysées.
Agathor had been hired by Isis to spy on her brother and brother-in-law the London based ancient Egyptian vampire Set.
Normally Agathor worked on such cases with his private eye partner and associate Magog Rhys Petley but last month Magog had checked himself into a clinic in Switzerland to help him treat a peculiar ailment and malady that the former Labour MP had (he turned into a werewolf during times of the full moon and a few other occasions as well).
Agathor and Magog had opened up their private eye business last summer after both men had lost their respective parliamentary seats to members of the British Transhumanist Techno-Progressive Anti Bio-Conservative Party (Conservative Agathor Christie had lost his Tewkesbury In The Cotswolds seat to Renfield R. Renfield and Labour’s Magog Rhys Petley had been defeated by the Welsh Vampiress Morgana also known as Morgana Fay Lee in the Welsh constituency of Newbridge).
Agathor ordered a cognac while he waited for the Vampiress Isis to show up.
She entered the cafe wearing a gold evening dress.
“Your Divine Majesty,” Agathor stood up and kissed her golden gloved leather hand.
“Mr. Christie, you have news for me?” The Vampiress Isis sat down and ordered a glass of champagne.
“I do,” Agathor nodded.
“Then you’re a good detective,” Isis smiled at him, “But then seeing as how you’re the great nephew of British mystery novelist Agatha Christie, I’m not surprised.”
Agathor Christie was indeed the great nephew of Agatha Christie (albeit she was his great aunt by marriage and not by blood).
Agathor sipped his cognac.
In the meantime, Isis helped herself to some caviar.
“So, what is this news you have to tell me?” Isis asked.
“Set is trying to find the tomb of the great Egyptian queen Cleopatra,” Agathor replied.
“Really?” Isis was quite astounded at this bit of news, “Then I shall have to beat him to it.”
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday January 4th
2018.
Carson Albion In Havana
Carson Albion In Havana
It was underneath a clear blue Cuban sky
walked the man Carson Albion Private Eye
He had been hired in a deli that sold salami
by a wealthy Cuban exile in Miami
to find the man’s granddaughter he hadn’t heard from in years
a situation that led to anxiety and tears
Taking with him an old photo
and leaving Kansas minus Toto
he flew to Havana
and arrived at a cabana
where a poolside party was going on
he asked the owner who was stifling a yawn
“Have you seen this girl?”
The man gave the roulette wheel a twirl
“She’s considerably older now!” he said.
Albion was relieved to hear she wasn’t dead.
“Do you know where she can be found?”
Albion dropped cigar ash on the ground
“At the La Luna Club downtown,”
the man gave a slight frown.
Albion raised his fedora in thanks
and made his exit by the lobster tanks
He headed to the La Luna Club
but would he find the girl, aye, there’s the rub
Carlotta was the girl’s name
like Bogey looking for a dame
He entered the club and saw a beautiful young woman in a red dress
by comparison his bourbon decorated trench coat looked a mess
He took off his coat and put it on a chair
while the bartender scratched his underwear
Carlotta was the girl in the red dress
Albion knew it was more than a guess
She was on the dance 💃🏻 floor dancing up a storm
and Albion under his shirt collar was starting to feel warm
He approached her and asked her to dance
She immediately fell into a tango stance
and together they danced the tango across the floor
and soon both were out the nightclub door
They headed back to her apartment
and on her mattress they made a major dent
Their intense lovemaking
was quite earth shaking
After the climax and in each other’s arms
came the phone call from her grandfather’s Florida farms
so Albion took a selfie
texted it to Grandpa wealthy
The angry grandfather told Albion not to bother coming home to America
otherwise he’d find himself dead in a Florida Oranges crate-ia.
So in Havana Albion did remain
so as not to turn Carlotta’s grandfather into Biblical Cain
They would often spend nights dancing the tango
and later in bed roared like Rambo.
-A poem written by Christopher
Saturday December 9th
2017
The Hound of The Baskervilles and The Temple Mount
The Hound of The Baskervilles and The Temple Mount
60 years ago, the stuffed body of the original Hound of the Baskervilles had been stolen from the Sherlock Holmes Museum at 221B Baker Street, London.
Today Agathor Christie and Magog Rhys Petley Private Eyes were walking the streets of the city of Jerusalem.
The two men were not on a case but rather holidaying.
They had not been hired on a case since they had located the Vampiric Knights-Templar for Allatallahbel the Vampiress Priestess of Baal.
The two men decided to go walk around the area of the Temple Mount (known to Muslims as the Haram al-Sharif) even though it was not legal for non-Muslims to do so.
However both men, being former British Members of Parliament, were naturally ignorant of the law.
Fortunately on this Monday approaching mid-November, the Temple Mount was not very busy and no one noticed the two men brazenly walking about.
“Look there,” Magog pointed to Agathor.
“What is it?” Agathor stuffed some snuff up his nose and sneezed.
“It’s the stuffed (as in taxidermically embalmed) body of an extremely large black dog,” Magog was astounded.
“So it is,” Agathor put on his monocle and took a look at the stuffed dead beast, “I have to whole heartedly agree.”
“I’ve seen that body before,” said Magog.
“You have?” Asked an astounded Agathor who was starting to wonder if his private eye partner had some rather unusual sexual proclivities.
“Yes, last week I was browsing through a 60-year-old LIFE magazine in my doctor’s office,” Magog explained, “and I came across an article about how the stuffed body of the original Hound of The Baskervilles was stolen from the Sherlock Holmes Museum at 221B Baker Street in London 60 years ago this week. They had a photo of the stolen item. With my photographic memory and my brilliant powers of Sherlockian reasoning, I deduce the hound in that 60-year-old photo and the one lying dead and stuffed here are one and the same.”
“Your doctor 👨⚕️ keeps 60 year old magazines in the waiting room of his office?” Agathor’s monocle popped off his eye in astonishment.
“Of course he’s Scottish,” Magog nodded, “and extremely tight at saving his pennies. He doesn’t really have anything new in his office. One deputy Chancellor of the Exchequer fell down the toilet 🚽 using that office’s antiquated piece of plumbing and hasn’t been seen since.”
“Amazing,” Agathor’s monocle fogged up.
“I say we better get this Hound of the Baskervilles off the Temple Mount and back to Britain 🇬🇧 as soon as possible,” Magog picked up the head end of the dog.
Agathor was left to pick up the rear end of the dog.
They carried the hound’s body off the Temple Mount while Magog Rhys Petley sang that old Patti Page song, “How much is that doggie in the window…?”.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday November 13th
2017.
Murder On Air Force One
Murder On Air Force One
The new movie Murder On The Orient Express would be opening in movie theatres across the world soon.
So BBC Radio 📻 asked various British MPs to come up with their own theatre movie trailer radio ad for a fictional movie about a murder that takes place aboard some mode of transport.
Here was British Transhumanist MP Renfield R. Renfield’s radio ad for a movie called Murder On Air Force One:
Coming soon to a theatre near you… Murder On Air Force One…
… The President of the United States is a pompous blowhard with a phoney toupee. And now he’s been found dead aboard Air Force One. Strangled by the tail of a red spider monkey. Who has done this deed?
Was it his much younger wife who only recently found out that her husband has grabbed and clutched the pussy of many a woman galore (to use a twist of phrase from the name of a James Bond movie character)?
Was it his youngest son who was tired of his father telling him to only take small bites of his food 🥘 and not big bites like that of Ohio Gov. John Kasich?
Was it his daughter who being forced into the public spotlight as a result of her father being President, it was now discovered that some of her company’s clothing and products were made by slave labour in Communist China 🇨🇳?
Was it his Secretary of State who was recently publicly castrated by his boss in a Twitter tweet?
Was it his Secretary of Defence who after a lifelong career in the U.S. military knows an asshole when he sees one?
Was it one of numerous White House employees, aides or cabinet secretaries who have been fired since he took office? Including a White House press secretary who not only suffered for his boss but was made fun of on Saturday Night Live?
Was it one of numerous opponents who challenged him for his party’s nomination last year? A Texas senator who was called a liar 🤥? A Florida senator who was told he had small hands?
Was it a Senator from Arizona – an American war hero who the President said wasn’t a hero because he was caught?
Was it the mayor of a city hit by a hurricane that the President said wasn’t a real calamity as he practised football throws with plastic packages of paper towels?
Was it the Prime Minister of a former Yugoslavian republic who got discourteously pushed out of the way at a NATO summit earlier this year?
Was it an Asian despot who had his rocket 🚀 called little even though the said despot had his half-brother killed in a Kuala Lumpur airport for much less?
Was it a member of Antifa outraged that the only person who saw clearly that two sides were to blame for the violence at Charlottesville Virginia this past summer was the idiot who was the late American President (thus implying that America was a land of the dumb and the stupid instead of the brave and the free since neither the media journalists and commentators nor entertainment celebrities had even had the intelligence of the said idiot President to see this)?
Was it an angry 😡 woman who was the opposing Party’s Presidential candidate? A woman who talked to Eleanor Roosevelt’s ghost and who wanted to play with voodoo dolls having lost the last Presidential election to him?
Was it the woman candidate’s husband anxious to return to the White House- this time as First Laddie so he could continue his crusade of helping out detergent manufacturers by leaving nasty stains on women’s dresses?
So many suspects.
Who done it?
And it’s the job of Belgian sleuth Bellerophonie Peugeot (aboard the plane ✈️ to make Belgian waffles for the First Family) to find out.
As he goes around the plane telling people to “Touch nothing” in his Belgian accent that sounds suspiciously French, someone grabs a knapsack (mistaking it for a parachute) and jumps out of the plane.
Who done it?
One of the numerous suspects mentioned above?
Or the personage who jumped out of the plane who’s now scrambled eggs 🍳 on the earth below?
Only Belgian sleuth Bellerophonie Peugeot knows for sure.
As the Belgian waffles get very well done as the Belgian sleuth finds out Who Dun It?
Murder On Air Force One… coming soon to a theatre near you.
-A Renfieldian Radio Ad
For A Murder Mystery Movie
and a vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday October 8th
2017
Allatallahbel’s Private Eyes At Rosslyn Chapel In Scotland
Allatallahbel’s Private Eyes At Rosslyn Chapel In Scotland
Allatallahbel the Vampiress Priestess of Baal had hired two London private eyes Agathor Christie and Magog Rhys Petley to find the remaining members of The Vampiric Knights-Templar for her.
The two private eyes had found 3 of the 6 remaining Vampiric Knights-Templar holding a Necronomicon prayer service at Rosslyn Chapel in Scotland.
Crosses and Crucifixes in the chapel had been turned upside down in accord with the Vampiric Knights-Templars’ liking.
A huge icon of Baphomet stood atop the altar.
The beautiful plainsong of the Book of Common Prayer had been replaced by the cacophonous demonic sounding jargon of the Necronomicon.
John Shelby Spong the former Episcopalian bishop of Newark New Jersey 🇯🇪 would have felt right at home during the service.
He would have proclaimed it the way the worldwide Anglican Communion should go.
The late Episcopal Bishop James Albert Pike would have probably agreed with him if he wasn’t being poked by the pitchfork of the real Baphomet at the moment.
Agathor and Magog found out from the 3 Vampiric Knights-Templar they met in Rosslyn Chapel that the other 3 Vampiric Knights-Templar were currently worshipping at a Freemasonic lodge in Charleston South Carolina.
Agathor and Magog relayed this information to the Vampiress Allatallahbel by smart phone.
Allatallahbel thanked the two private eyes for their efforts and told them to tell the Vampiric Knights-Templar to meet her at the following location in Europe in the next two weeks:
(TOP SECRET)
Allatallahbel then smoothed her scarlet red evening dress and then slit the throat of the young Swiss Guards lieutenant she had with her.
She then drained his body of blood.
She then went to the nearest zoo and drained the tigers there of their blood as well.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday October 1st
2017.
Allatallahbel Swims To Nephthys’ Undersea Tomb
Allatallahbel the Vampiress Priestess of Baal had hired two London private eyes Agathor Christie and Magog Rhys Petley to track down the sole surviving Vampiric Knights-Templar for her.
She had also hired another London private eye Randall Hopkins to spy on the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set for her (Randall Hopkins accepted the case immediately since he had prior experience spying on Set having been hired by the Paris-based Egyptian vampiress Isis to do just that 3 years ago).
Randall Hopkins had broke into Set’s house where he located a couriered document sent to Set by the German government.
Apparently a World War One German UB-II U-Boat submarine had just been found off the coast of Belgium.
According to the sub’s last manifest written down before its last voyage (the manifest was found in the German National Archives) the Egyptian vampiress Nephthys (Set’s long lost wife) was on board the vessel.
When Set read the courier document, he practically shit himself.
After using up the mansion’s entire rolls of toilet paper, Set then flew to Atlanta Georgia to meet former U.S. President Jimmy Carter.
Set figured that if Carter could negotiate a successful peace treaty between Egypt and Israel (like he did back in 1978), then he could successfully negotiate an amicable divorce agreement between Nephthys and himself if Nephthys was still alive.
Allatallahbel decided to swim to the spot where the sub was located (she had seduced a German Federal cabinet minister to tell her the location) to see for herself whether Nephthys was alive or dead.
When she emerged and walked back to her Belgian B and B, a group of ex-DARPA operatives on a European tour snapped her pic with their smart phones.
One ex-DARPA op named Daniel (who had an otter following behind him) started to curse, “Dang! I forgot to recharge my smart phone battery!”.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday September 26th
2017.
