100 More Days Till Halloween…

July 23, 2021 at 10:58 pm (Aesthetics, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, Horror, International Intrigue, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Mythology, News, Sorcery, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , )

“This is Jack Anderson at Terror 97 FM in London- the radio station that keeps you in stitches – a la style of Dr. Victor Frankenstein’s creation. This just in from Canada… Earlier today genetically created satyr serial killer Pan Goatee slew two more ugly women in a Dollarama store in Calgary. And now here’s Air Supply singing their coming Halloween hit Two Less Ugly People In The World…”

. . .

There was a state of excitement prevailing in the Vatican among the city state’s wide assortment of Jesuit priests for word had come to pass that the demon Baphomet was going to address them at A Come As You Are convention in the Vatican Sauna Steam Bath House named Hyacinth Sizzles Apollo’s Swizzle Stick.

Meanwhile in the Papal Apartments, Pope Francis was consulting with one of his leading theological advisors Walter Cardinal Kasper.

“Your Unholiness,” Kasper addressed Bergoglio by his most appropriate title, “a group of flying saucer UFOs containing 6.66 feet tall T-Rex ET reptilians have landed within the walls of the Vatican.”

“What for?” Francis asked as he licked a Spartan Greek popsicle.

“We’re not sure,” Kasper answered.

. . .

British Prime Minister Boris Johnson had been hiding inside a tomb in London’s Highgate Cemetery ever since British MP Renfield R. Renfield publicly called for the 10 Downing Street occupant’s assassination this past Wednesday.

The colourful and controversial MP had issued the assassination call after the Zombie Nosferatu Tory Prime Minister (whose forehead had been etched with the words I AM AN APOSTLE OF THE ANTICHRIST in red felt ink) announced this past Wednesdy that he intended to introduce a vaccine passport in Britain next month.

Bishop Sean Manchester the traditionalist Old Catholic Church Bishop of Glastonbury and a leading exorcist was walking around the cemetery amidst reports that a vampire was once again haunting the cemetery for the first time in 51 years.

As Johnson sat inside the tomb with sweat on his forehead, the ghost of Karl Marx (looking well roasted) appeared alongside him and asked him, “How’s it going?”.

. . .

Yaldabaoth the Irish Leprechaun was in Highgate Cemetery eating cold mutton sandwiches and drinking Guinness beer.

He was listening to Terror 97 FM London on his old 1970s style transistor radio.

The radio was playing a commercial and a Halloween holiday jingle, “100 more days till Halloween… Silver Shamrock.”

A hand holding a silver shamrock suddenly appeared out of the ground near the old gravestone where Yaldabaoth was having his evening picnic totally freaking the wee leprechaun out.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday July 23rd
2021.

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Emmanuel Macron: The French Poodle Napoleon/Hitler Wannabe

July 13, 2021 at 10:12 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, International Intrigue, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , )

“And that no man might buy or sell save he that had the mark of the beast or the name of the beast or the number of his name.”
-The Apocalypse of Saint John aka Book of Revelation 13:17

The ghost of the late Larry King had been called to fill in at the CNN evening anchor desk as current living (but brain dead) on-air CNN personalities were pre-occupied with doing other things.

“Jim Acosta,” Larry King’s ghost addressed the vain and pompous blowhard, “why can’t you be here tonight?”.

“I’m busy engaging in carnal relations with bees, wasps and hornets,” Acosta replied as a bunch of the critters mentioned swarmed around his naked body causing America’s TV dinner eating audience to lose their appetites.

“Well, whatever floats your boat,” Larry adjusted his ghostly bow tie and pulled up his ghostly suspenders.

The camera briefly turned to a screenshot of Joe Biden sniffing Kamala Harris’ pussy.

As the cat spat at him.

“I will now address the same question to the appropriately last named Don Lemon,” King’s ghost went on, “Why can’t you be here tonight?”.

Lemon lisped, “Because I’m in a gay bath house getting my organ massaged.”

“All right,” King’s ghost nodded, “Be sure to get your piano tuned up as well while you’re at it.”

The camera then turned to a screenshot of Kamala Harris getting run over by a photocopier from rural Texas.

“I’ll have to read this story myself,” Larry put on his ghostly spectral spectacles and looked at the camera, “French President Emmanuel Macron has announced that those in France who don’t have a Covid vaccine passport will be banned from participating in basic activities such as visiting shopping malls, restaurants and using public transport.
In a public address to the nation, Macron made clear that only those who have taken the vaccine will be allowed to enter venues such as hospitals, bars and tourist attractions.”

Emmanuel Macron can be seen on the screen as the words I AM AN APOSTLE OF THE ANTICHRIST appear on his forehead.

The screen then switches to Pope Francis in his hospital bed as he plays the guitar and sings an old John Lennon song, “Imagine there’s no Heaven, It’s easy if you try, No Hell below us, Above us only sky…”

“And now here for an editorial comment is the ghost of Orson Welles reading from the King James Bible,” Larry’s ghost introduced the larger than life screen giant who was a director, actor and screenplay writer.

Read Welles’ ghost while sipping from a glass of spectral red wine, “And that no man might buy or sell save he that had the mark of the beast or the name of the beast or the number of his name.”

Larry’s ghost went on, “In other news, British MP Renfield R. Renfield once again found himself at the center of controversy when he publicly called for the assassination of the French President after Macron made the announcement on Covid vaccine passports. Here are some of Mr. Renfield’s remarks…”

Said Renfield, “I publicly call for the assassination of Emmanuel Macron. Europe must be rid of this despot and demagogue before the entire continent falls under tyranny. It is time that someone jab this French poodle Napoleon/Hitler wannabe with a Polonium-210 virus.”

“Where does one find the Polonium-210 virus?” Joe Biden asked his dead stuffed German shepherd dog Champ as he patted it.

In his office in the Kremlin, Russian President Vladimir Putin sat and smiled.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday July 13th
2021.

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Perverted Roman Emperor Elagabalus Bangs Village Person Dutch PM Mark Rutte In The Rear At Amsterdam YMCA

June 27, 2021 at 10:45 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, History, International Intrigue, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster was having a vision of the dream that the Netherlands’ “Lot’s wife pillar of salt challenged” Prime Minister Mark Rutte was currently having.

Mr. Rutte who couldn’t decide on being a cowboy, an Indian chief, a policeman, a construction worker, a disco dancer or a BDSM leather boy poster child when he grew up settled for becoming Prime Minister of the Netherlands instead.

Mr. Rutte was currently having a dream where he was in the sauna room of the local YMCA in Amsterdam.

He was being sodomized in the rear end by the ghost of the perverted Roman Emperor Elagabalus (circa 204-March 11th 222 AD, reigned as perverted Roman Emperor from 218 to 222 AD).

Elagabalus was singing,

“In the Navy, you can sail the Seven Seas in the Navy,
you can bend over if you please in the Navy…”

With that the cross-dressing Emperor Elagabalus bent Mr. Rutte over and let him have it full throttle where the sun don’t shine.

Elagabalus shouted for joy as did Dutch Prime Minister Mark Rutte.

With the coming together in unity-in-diversity of perverted ancient Roman Emperor Elagabalus and perverted modern Dutch leader Mark Ratte, Ratte shouted, “Hungary objects to such activities. Therefore we must kick Hungary out of the European Union.”

All in all, Michelangelo reflected, it would probably be best for Hungary if it did leave the European Union.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday June 27th
2021.

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If It Ain’t Broke, Don’t Fix It

June 18, 2021 at 10:43 pm (Commentary, Culture, Film, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, International Intrigue, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )


“I’ll take that last slice of pizza if you don’t mind, Mr. Farrow.”

“Cut!” Orson Welles shouted, “That’s a take!”.

“I’ll say it is,” said the actress as she grabbed and ate the last slice of pizza.

The day’s production was over.

Welles took his hat and coat and went to a nearby lounge where he ordered a glass of red wine.

After a few sips, he fell asleep.

When he awoke, he was a ghost in a pub in London called The Ghosts’ Inn and he was sipping a spectral glass of spectral red wine.

Welles wasn’t sure whether he was a mortal man dreaming that he was a ghost or whether he was a ghost dreaming about his days as a mortal man.

It was like that myth he had once heard about the man who fell asleep and dreamed that he was a caterpillar and then when he woke up again, he wasn’t sure whether he was a man who dreamed he was a caterpillar or whether he’s a caterpillar who’s now dreaming that he’s a man.

“Such intense thoughts on the cusp of the summer solstice,” British MP Renfield R. Renfield remarked over a gin and tonic.

“I wasn’t aware that I was thinking such thoughts aloud,” Welles’ ghost sighed.

“You were,” Renfield dug into his fish and chips with his knife and fork.

A butterfly flew in through the window of the pub.

“I wonder what the butterfly dreams,” Renfield mused aloud.

“Not sure,” Welles admitted, “But he’s got both man and caterpillar beat.”

“Of course there are some idiots,” Renfield pointed out, “let’s call them in Seinfeldian fashion Klaus Schwab, the World Economic Forum, Joe Biden, Justin Trudeau and Boris Johnson who probably figure that when it comes to butterflies, they can still Build Back Better.”

A British engineering student (who had spent the Covid lockdown studying Schwab’s book on The Fourth Industrial Revolution) was in another booth operating his robotic butterfly (that he called the Transbutterfly).

The Transbutterfly was trying to take nectar from the petal of an artificial flower.

The butterfly who had flown past Renfield and Welles flew out the door while the Transbutterfly flew into another customer’s pint of ale where it burst a gasket and disintegrated.

Dashwood Forrest the noted London art gallery dealer walked past Renfield and Welles carrying a godawful painting.

“What’s that hideous monstrosity?” Both Welles and Renfield asked at the same time.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to give this painting away,” Forrest admitted, “Bill Gates gave it to me on commission to sell. It’s a painting that he himself painted. He calls it Painting of A Build Back Better Sunset.”

“That’s a sunset?” Welles and Renfield both asked increduously at the same time.

Renfield put on his spectacles and Welles put on a ghostly spectral monocle.

Both man and ghost reacted with horror.

Renfield vomitted all over the painting while Welles spewed forth ghostly ectoplasm.

“I have to say that’s a very significant improvement,” Forrest declared after the vomit and ectoplasm now found their way on to Bill Gates’ Build Back Better Sunset.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday June 18th
2021.

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Dashwood Forrest Visits The Cornish Coast

May 28, 2021 at 10:32 pm (Folklore, Ghost Story, Horror, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

Dashwood Forrest the owner and curator of the Dashwood Forrest Art Gallery in London decided to spend a few days away from London.

He decided to visit the coast of Cornwall and checked into a comfortable Bed and Breakfast in a small village on the Cornish coast.

He had heard on the radio in his room that a ferocious storm was approaching the coast.

Instead of being frightened by it, Forrest was excited about the idea of watching a storm on the Cornish coast.

It brought back those old stories of pirates and cutthroats and shipwrecks and ghosts that he had heard about the Cornish coast as a child.

He put on his heavy rainjacket and headed down to the cliff near the village to watch the storm unfold.

As he sat on the edge of the cliff, Forrest watched the tempest begin.

Storm clouds turned from gray to fierce black.

The waves churned and roared with all the fearsome turbulence the angry sea had to offer.

A streak of lightning came down seeking to pierce and slice the waves while thunder roared its approval.

Forrest thought he heard a voice cry out, “It’s a long way from the Cape of Good Hope to the coast of Cornwall.”

Strange, Forrest thought.

And then he looked and saw that infamous ghost ship The Flying Dutchman being tossed to and fro through the combatting waves while an eerie green ghostly light surrounded the ship and its torn masts.

The ship crashed and was torn apart on the jagged rocks under the cliff below.

Bodies of men appeared on the beach.

Bodies that quickly became skeletons.

And then turned to dust.

The broken wood of the ship seemed to vanish among the sea foam that washed up on to the beach.

Forrest sat there petrified and staring in disbelief at what he saw.

Meanwhile in London, Dashwood Forrest’s good friend Sherrielock Holmes was looking after the gallery for him.

British MP Renfield R. Renfield entered the gallery.

“Where’s Dashwood?” Renfeld asked.

“He’s taking a well deserved vacation,” Sherrielock answered, “Down to the Cornish coast.”

“Good for him,” Renfield nodded, “So any new items in the gallery?”.

“In fact, a new parcel came in this evening,” Sherrielock replied, “Containing a most magnificent and unusual painting. I’ve already had it unpacked and put on the wall over there.”

Renfield went over to look at the painting.

“I have the feeling,” Renfield remarked, “that Dashwood will be very surprised when he sees this.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday May 28th
2021.

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Morgan Le Fay

May 21, 2021 at 10:40 pm (Art, Arts, Ghost Story, History, painting, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

Picture of Morgan Le Fay

“So you’re trying to track down the original painting that appears at this website?” British MP Renfield R. Renfield asked Dashwood Forrest the owner and curator of the Dashwood Forrest Art Gallery in London.

“I am,” Forrest nodded, “I’ve come across sketches of this portrait in various books and they say it’s a portrait of Morgan Le Fay.”

“The Arthurian era enchantress?” Renfield sipped a martini, “But the woman in this portrait looks like a woman of the 1930s judging by her hairstyle and style of dress. I thought Morgan Le Fay died back in the Arthurian era.”

“There were rumours that back in 1930 an archaeologist found her grave on the Isle of Avalon not far from Glastonbury and a spiritist medium friend of the archaeologist used her incredible occultic powers to bring Morgan Le Fay back from the dead,” Forrest explained.

“And someone in the decade of the 1930s painted her picture?” Renfield finished his martini.

“Yes,” Forrest nodded.

“I wonder who?” Renfield looked at the website photograph of the painting as Forrest shrugged.

. . .

The ghost of Winston Churchill and the ghost of Orson Welles were sitting in comfortable armchairs in the living room of the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set’s colossal West London estate.

Both were smoking spectral cigars.

Churchill was sipping a spectral brandy.

And Welles was sipping a spectral glass of spectral red wine.

“Anyways,” Churchill continued with his story to Welles, “In my painting career, I painted in various different painting styles. I once painted what looked to be in style a black and white photo of Morgan Le Fay but it was actually a painting. One I must say I was exceptionally proud of. Sadly, Clementine didn’t like it and gave it away to someone. She wouldn’t say who. She didn’t want me to get it back. I think Clementine was jealous of Morgan Le Fay’s exceptional beauty.”

“Do you mean Morgan Le Fay the Arthurian era enchantress?” Welles almost spilled his spectral glass of spectral red wine all over his ghostly suit, “But I thought she died back in Arthurian times.”

“She was apparently brought back from the dead in 1930,” Churchill explained.

“Is she still alive today?” Welles asked.

. . .

“Is this seat taken?” The beautiful and attractive young woman asked Dracul Van Helsing in the Saint George’s Pub.

“No, it most definitely is not,” Van Helsing answered.

The woman sat down in the pub booth directly across from Dracul Van Helsing.

Her dress, her fur covering, her necklace, her gloves, her hairstyle and appearance seem to have been accurately and prophetically depicted by one Winston Leonard Spencer Churchill many decades ago.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday May 21st
2021.

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An Intersection of Time

April 10, 2021 at 10:58 pm (Film, Ghost Story, love, Movies, Music, Poetry, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , )

The year was 1929.
The bride was waiting for the wedding to begin.
She looked behind her.
And noticed one of the candles had burnt out.
Was this an omen she wondered?
Was she making the right decision?
Was her life about to become like that burnt out candle?

2021.
Amadeus Emanon was standing on the stage of an empty nightclub.
The nightclub was closed due to Boris Johnson’s lockdown.
But Amadeus felt at his best when performing on a stage.
He may not be able to sing to people in the club.
But he felt he was able to sing to ghosts.
The ghosts of the past.
The ghosts of the present.
And the ghosts of the future.

The ghosts of the present.
People alone and isolated.
And fading away
Under an iron curtain
That had descended all across the globe.

The ghosts of the future
If there was a future
Those whose anguished cries could not reach the present
As the darkness fell
And everything was void
and waiting for that moment
Of the spoken Word,
“Let there be light.”

Ghosts of the past.
In a distant theatre box
Amadeus saw a woman in silhoutte
A bride
Looking back at a burnt out candle
Silent
Apprehensive
As if she was looking at an omen.

Amadeus began to sing
And sang to the woman
To the bride…

Moon River, wider than a mile
I’m crossing you in style someday
Oh dream maker
You heartbreaker
Where ever you’re going I’m going your way
Two drifters off to see the world
There’s such a lot of world to see
We’re after the same rainbow’s end
Waiting round the bend
My huckleberry friend
Moon River and me.

Amadeus lowered his head
The song was finished
The spot light was fading
And it was as if the singer
Was waiting for the applause

That never came.

The bride listened
She had never heard the song
And probably would not again
Unless on some far off 1961 morning
She had breakfast at Tiffany’s

But the song gave her courage
And inspired her to walk down the aisle
And grasp the hand of her love
Her huckleberry friend
Two drifters off to see the world
Because
there’s such a lot of world to see

The moon came through
Shining through the stained glass window
Depicting the Jordan River
And at this nighttime service
It shone brightly
On the spot
Where the one candle had burnt out

In the far off distance
Amadeus’ voice carried through time,
“Moon River and thee.”

-A poem and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday April 10th
2021.

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Star-Crossed Leprechaun

March 11, 2021 at 11:43 pm (Espionage, Film, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, History, International Intrigue, Movies, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

“Darling, darling, what is it you saw?” Parker Andrewes asked his wife Claire.

“Perhaps Madame Andrewes would like a cup of tea?” Bela the butler put a tea tray down on the table next to the lounging chair where Claire Andrewes had collapsed after looking out the window.

“Tea would be nice,” said Claire.

“Darling, what was it you saw?” Parker Andrewes asked his wife again.

“A leprechaun,” Claire replied.

“A leprechaun?” Parker Andrewes was stunned by the reply.

“You mean like the wee green folk who live in Ireland?” Bela inquired.

“Yes,” Claire nodded.

Our story begins several hours earlier in the year 2021 at 10 Downing Street in London.

“And what did you say your name was again?” British Prime Minister Boris Johnson asked his bald headed guest with the big fangs protruding over his mouth.

“Count Nosferatu,” the bald headed man with big fangs answered.

“Count Nosferatu?” Johnson removed some scrambled eggs that had been caught in his hair, “You mean like Count Dracula?”.

“No, Count Nosferatu like the 1922 German silent film Nosferatu starring Max Schreck,” the bald headed vampire answered, “Although his name was Count Orlok in the film but mine is Nosferatu. That’s because I was the world’s first Nosferatu.”

“What’s the difference between Nosferatu and other vampires?” Johnson removed some slices of bacon caught in his hair.

“Nosferatu are bald headed vampires,” Count Nosferatu replied.

“Really?” Boris Johnson started washing his hair with Johnson’s Baby Shampoo, “I hope that won’t happen to me. The ancient Babylonian vampiress Lilith turned me into what she called a zombie nosferatu. I hope this doesn’t mean I’m going to go bald.”

“Many zombies still have hair,” Count Nosferatu reflected, “so perhaps you’ll be more zombie than nosferatu.”

“Gosh, I certainly hope so,” Johnson started drying his hair with heat from a toaster he held upside down over his head.

“I think someone’s filming us,” Count Nosferatu pointed to the potted plants on the stand outside the 2nd floor balcony window.

“It must be the blasted members of the press again,” Johnson seethed, “I’m going to settle this once and for all. I’m going to moon them.”

Johnson pulled his trousers and boxer shorts down.

He then turned around and bent over.

Yaldabaoth the Irish leprechaun was standing in the potted plants filming the Boris Johnson-Count Nosferatu meeting on behalf of Peter Whitstable the man they call the Fox Mulder of Interpol.

He was startled by the sight of Boris Johnson mooning him.

So much so that he pushed the wrong button on his Houdini-Tesla-Pantages-Welles-Lamarr Magic Lantern Film Projector and Camera.

The device could also serve as an instrument for time travel.

Yaldabaoth wound up in the year 1939 on the Parker Andrewes Estate near Watertown New York.

Claire Andrewes happened to be looking out the Andrewes mansion window at the time.

She noticed the wee leprechaun.

Yaldbaoth tried pushing another button on the device to return to the time from whence he came.

Instead he pushed a button that projected 3-D holographic images of the Boris Johnson-Count Nosferatu meeting including the British Prime Minister’s infamous mooning of the potted plants on the 2nd floor balcony window.

The sight of Johnson’s moon landing sent Claire Andrewes reeling into her lounging chair where her husband Parker and their butler Bela came rushing to her aid.

The ghost of radio show host Paul Harvey appeared outside the mansion and speaking into a ghostly microphone said, “And now you know the rest of the story.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday March 11th
2021.

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Hera and The Gangsters

March 1, 2021 at 11:39 pm (Arts, Culture, Entertainment, Ghost Story, Mythology, Plays, Romance, The Supernatural, theatre, Theatre Arts, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

The Greek goddess Hera starring in a 1930s Broadway play about gangsters

It was the decade of the 1930s.

And the Greek goddess Hera was honing her theatrical skills by starring in a Broadway play about gangsters.

It was dress rehearsal night – the evening before the official opening.

Hera was awaiting the arrival of the gangster boss Big Frank Malone.

A man came on stage wearing a fedora hat and gangster suit and carrying a big violin case.

Hera, speaking out of character, said, “You don’t look like John Barrymore to me.”

“I’m afraid John is a bit under the weather tonight,” the understudy replacement for John Barrymore replied.

“How many bottles did he have to drink today?” Hera asked.

“You know the real Barrymore obviously,” Dracul Van Helsing, who had time travelled from the future and was now playing the role of Big Frank Malone in this play about gangsters, replied.

“That’s funny,” the ghost of Orson Welles, who had likewise time travelled from the future, remarked as he sat in the front row, “I don’t ever recall John Barrymore starring in a play about gangsters.”

“He possibly drank before each performance and never made it to the stage,” Van Helsing noted.

“By Jove, I think you’re right,” Welles agreed.

“Please, don’t use one of my husband’s Roman names,” Hera stood up.

“I forgot,” Welles bowed, “I do apologize.”

Hera approached Van Helsing, “Well, Dracul, since you’ve come from the future to step in for the great John Barrymore, perhaps we can do an improvisational performance tonight.”

“And what improvisational performance did you have in mind?” Van Helsing inquired.

“How about making out here on the stage?” Hera smiled.

And Hera and Van Helsing did just that.

“Not again,” Welles’ ghost buried his ghostly head in his ghostly hands.

As Hera and Van Helsing made out, soon thunder and lightning flashed around the stage.

“And furthermore, I just would happen to be in the very theatre on the night the Greek god Zeus decided to attend a Broadway play,” Welles’ ghost sighed.

The next day a hangover stricken John Barrymore was asked what happened to the theatre as it lay in ruins.

“Well, I know people are once again going to say this was a hallucination brought on by too much drink on my part,” Barrymore commented, “but it was an angry and cuckholded Greek god Zeus who destroyed this theatre because his wife the Olympian queen Hera was making out with a mortal.”

The members of the New York press laughed and shook their heads.

And that was the reason history has no record of John Barrymore starring in a Broadway play about gangsters.

The ghost of radio announcer Paul Harvey appeared in front of the lightning produced charred ashes of the theatre and gave his usual radio show sign-off, “And now you know the rest of the story.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday March 1st
2021.

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Aphrodite At The Sherlockian Club In London

January 22, 2021 at 11:59 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, History, International Intrigue, Mystery, Mythology, News, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , )


The Greek goddess Aphrodite at The Sherlockian Club in London

Aphrodite was sitting in one of the reading rooms at an exclusive men’s club in London.

Even though only men were allowed in the club, for some reason, none of the men present in the club this night objected to her being there.

The Sherlockian Club was founded well over a century ago in the year 1912 to honour the great British consulting detective Sherlock Holmes.

Its first President was one Winston Churchill a British MP and sometimes cabinet minister.

No wearing of masks and no social distancing went on at the Sherlockian Club.

That’s because its current President was one Renfield R. Renfield a British MP and sometime cabinet minister (whenever it was a minority government situation).

However none of the Sherlockian Club members got Covid, got sick or died.

The same couldn’t be said for one nursing home in Italy where there hadn’t been any deaths the past few years but as soon as all the nursing home residents were vaccinated with the Pfizer vaccine 2 weeks ago, 8 residents had dropped dead like flies the past 2 weeks.

And there was the stupendously great baseball player and baseball home run king Hank Aaron (one who didn’t use steroids to hit his record home runs like later players did) who publicly received the vaccine for Covid two weeks ago in an effort to show all Americans that the vaccine was safe.

Now today he was dead.

No doubt Joe Biden and Nancy Pelosi were offering prayers of thanks to Beelzebub that they had received the vaccine injections with the caps on.

Aphrodite was at the Sherlockian Club in London because her World Mythology and Folklore instructor at Oxford Prof. William Charles was going to read aloud a paper she wrote last year on the origins of the Demon Buffalo of Buffalo Lake.

Prof. William Charles in addition to being an Associate Professor of Mythology, Folklore, Vampirism, Lycanthropy and Paranormal Studies at Oxford University was a member of the Sherlockian Club.

As Aphrodite sat in one of the lounges of the Sherlockian Club waiting for Prof. William Charles’ speech to begin in the central dining hall

she soon found herself joined by Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing.

“I’m anxious to hear your paper on the Demon Buffalo of Buffalo Lake,” Dracul stated.

“Well, we’ve got an hour to kill before the lecture begins,” Aphrodite smiled, “Why don’t I give you a spanking and then we can make out?”.

“A splendid idea,” Van Helsing agreed.

30 minutes later the ghost of Orson Welles inadvertently walked into the room.

“Why does this always happen to me?” Welles’ ghost sighed once again playing the role of the ghostly voyeur.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday January 22nd
2021.

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