Wilkie The Cat Plays Hamlet

August 20, 2019 at 10:40 pm (Comedy, Culture, Entertainment, Humour, Literature, Poetry, Romance, theatre, Theatre Arts) (, , , , )

Wilkie The Cat Plays Hamlet

The noted New York feline thespian Wilkie The Cat was on stage appearing in his own production of William Shakespeare’s Hamlet.

The vain cat actor was naturally playing the lead role.

“If it were done when ’tis done, 
then twere well it were done quickly…”

“You idiot, that’s from MacBeth,” shouted Mitzi the French cat who was playing Ophelia.

“Oh,” Wilkie took a look at what he had written on his cuff links.

“Sorry folks,” Wilkie grinned at the audience.

Wilkie struck a dramatic Sir John Barrymore style pose.

“I have come to bury Caesar not to praise him,” Wilkie began.

The body of a German shepherd is carried by four marching legionaries across the stage followed by a weeping female French poodle.

“That’s from Julius Caesar, bozo!” Mitzi exclaimed.

“Oops!” Wilkie took a look at what was written on the cuff links of his other front paw.

“Now is the winter of our discontent,” Wilkie began as imagery of hot dogs and ice cream cones and a summer beach and loads of bikini clad women and swimming suit men appear on the screen behind him.

“Richard III, idiot!” Mitzi shook her head.

An actor dressed like John Wayne appears on stage and in a John Wayne like voice says, “A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a horse!”.

Wilkie sits down and takes a look at what was written on one of the white socks on his back paws, “O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo?”.

“That’s Juliet’s line from Romeo and Juliet, you nincompoop!” Mitzi threw her paws in the air in exasperation.

Wilkie hearkens to what was written on the white sock on his other back paw.

“I fear my Thisbe’s promise is forgot!” Wilkie puts his right front paw to his feline brow in ultra melodramatic fashion.

“That’s from Pyramus and Thisbe the play within a play in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, you ninny!” Mitzi grabs her parasol umbrella from the stage hand off stage so she can hit Wilkie over the head with it.

Wilkie pulls off a piece of paper he has stapled to his tail.

“Those are the lines from King Lear you have there!” Mitzi approaches menacingly with her umbrella.

“King Leer!” Wilkie protests too much, “I’m no King Leer! You must think me a voyeur of some importance.”

The disgraced Pee-wee Herman walks across stage holding a pair of binoculars through which his eyes are peering.

Wilkie rips out a piece of paper that’s stapled to his tongue, reads it and cries out, “Soft you now, the fair Ophelia!”.

Mitzi casts her parasol to the stage and sighs, “Finally now, you’ve got the right play.”

At that point, Donald Trump with his toupee falling off, walks on stage and proclaims,

“In this same interlude it doth befall
That I, one Trump by name, present a wall…”

At that moment, the mostly Democratic Party aligned New York City audience rushes towards the stage to tear it apart (along with many in the audience who just want their money back).

As the New York City Mayor’s wife (a former lesbian) rushes on to the stage, Wilkie the Cat shouts, “Get thee to a nunnery!”.

Wilkie is then immediately attacked by New York Gov. Andrew Cuomo who tries to inject the feline with saline solution and then suck him up with a Planned Parenthood approved Electrolux vacuum cleaner.

Needless to say like every other play Wilkie had produced and directed for Broadway, the cat’s adaptation of Hamlet did not have a second night’s performance.

-A Wilkie the Cat Short Story
written by Christopher 
Tuesday August 20th
2019.

Dolores Costello with her husband John Barrymore.
Barrymore, unlike Wilkie The Cat, could perform Shakespeare.

Advertisements

Permalink 8 Comments

Venus In Furs

August 3, 2019 at 8:44 pm (Humour, Mythology, Poetry) (, , )

Venus In Furs

It was a night 
With much in sight 
And Ares danced
In Paris France

Temperatures were hot 
So no fox trot
Cannot do the rumba
Because of sidewalk gumba

A tango would sizzle
So leave it for drizzle 
To dance in puddles
With Gene Kelly cuddles 

Those disco nights 
would burst one’s tights 
And definitely no wind
To fly one’s kites

It’s quite the heat wave 
no night for a rave
Temperatures soar
like furnace roar

Humidity heat
To Dante’s inferno beat
A night to sweat 
Don’t walk your pet

Sidewalk egg will fry
And the hen will sigh
Fahrenheit is really high 
The fan will soon die

From overwork
It’s quite the quirk
Ice from soda jerk
Beams up James Kirk

A night you won’t forget
Like a Hellbound jet
Sauna rooms to let
Still vacant yet

And so Ares does dance
In Paris France
Minus his pair of pants
Saying take a chance

Meanwhile in her room 
On a night of doom 
Aphrodite wears 
More than perfume

Greek goddess Aphrodite goes totally insane:

Venus in furs

-A poem written by Christopher
Saturday August 3rd
2019
Inspired by the recent heat wave 
hitting Europe

Permalink 8 Comments

July 20th 2019: A Very Historic Anniversary

July 20, 2019 at 10:53 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, Humour, Mythology, News, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

July 20th 2019: A Very Historic Anniversary 

July 20th is a significant date in world history.

It was on this date in 356 BC that Alexander the Great was born.

It was 75 years ago today (on July 20th 1944) that the German colonel Count Claus von Stauffenburg tried to assassinate Adolf Hitler in the plot known as Operation Valkyrie.

And it was 50 years ago today (on July 20th 1969) that Neil Armstrong spoke these words from the moon after the Apollo 11 Eagle had landed, “That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.”

On this day July 20th 2019, Alexander the Great’s half-sister Thessalonike of Macedon (who had turned into a mermaid after hearing of her brother’s death) was swimming in the Mediterranean Sea not far from the Egyptian city of Alexandria when an ancient shield happened to float by.

“It’s my brother’s shield!” She cried.

Just then the British destroyer The H.M.S. Balderdash happened to go by en route to the Suez Canal to the Indian Ocean and through the Strait of Hormuz to the Persian Gulf where it would attempt a rescue of the British oil tanker Stena Impero recently seized by Iran.

Thessalonike then posed the same question to the sailors aboard the H.M.S. Balderdash that she posed to the sailors aboard every ship that she had encountered throughout the centuries.

“Is Alexander the King alive?” She asked.

“Which Alexander the King would that be?” Asked Lt. Chamberlain Neville of the H.M.S. Balderdash.

“Alexander the Great, you idiot!” Thessalonike spat seaweed at him.

The correct answer as far as Thessalonike the mermaid was concerned was “He lives and reigns and conquers the world.”

The captain of the ship H.M.S. Balderdash who was none other than Gladstone Disraeli answered, “No, Alexander the Great died centuries ago in the year 323 BC.”

“Wrong answer!” Thessalonike foamed at the mouth spraying sea foam in every direction.

She then turned into a raging Gorgon tearing apart the ship and sending it and every sailor aboard to the bottom of the sea.

Trump would later blame the incident on the Iranians.

Meanwhile the Grey Wolf Formerly Known As Adolf (because it was a grey wolf possessed by the ghost of Adolf Hitler who had been let out of the Underworld a few years ago by Hades and Persephone at the request of the Norse-Germanic god Odin/Wotan) was walking the streets of Saint Petersburg Russia.

“I thought this place was supposed to be called Leningrad,” Adolf thought to himself as he looked at all the street signs.

“And to think I should have taken possession of this city but I failed!” Adolf snarled.

Meanwhile on the moon this day, the demon Asmodeus was walking around because he had never been to the moon and he figured since humans went to the moon, he might as well.

Of course Asmodeus had never learned to fly.

He had skipped the Demonic Learning To Fly Class back in Hell High School because he had been outside smoking cigarettes.

So the chain smoking demon asked the two high flying owls (who were companions to the ancient Babylonian vampiress Lilith) to grab hold of each one of his arms and fly him to the moon.

Now he was walking around the moon’s surface.

Unbeknownst to Asmodeus, the Norse trickster god Loki had been walking around the moon earlier that day (having been flown to the moon through the help of Valkyries).

Loki had eaten a banana while on the moon and had thrown the peel behind him.

As Asmodeus walked along smoking and coughing and singing that old Frank Sinatra song Fly Me To The Moon, he wasn’t watching where he was going.

The chain smoking demon slipped on the banana.

After hitting backside down on the lunar surface, Asmodeus remarked, “That’s one small slip for a banana, one giant pain in the ass for demonkind.”

The Chinese moon goddess Chang’e and the Moon Rabbit remind you:
Only you can prevent lunar fires.
Always douse your campfire and be careful with your cigarette butts.

-A vampire novel chapter 
written by Christopher
Saturday July 20th
2019.

Permalink 23 Comments

An Evening In The Month of June: A Poem

June 1, 2019 at 9:17 pm (Arts, Culture, Humour, Poetry, Romance) (, , , )

An Evening In The Month of June: A Poem

One pleasant evening in the month of June 
As I was sitting with my glass and spoon
A small bird sang on an ivy brunch
And the song he sang was a jug of punch

And then she appeared riding a wild deer 
On which sat her exquisite self and lovely rear
With her lips she was playing a lovely flute
So I said, wait, and grabbed my Irish lute…

She had recently lost a single red shoe
Somewhere up in the mountain dew
And so one of her feet was bare 
Still she had lovely exquisite hair

The stag she rode had antlers prickly
Causing riders in front to move very quickly 
On the antlers hung dangling apples
I wondered whether they were serpent trapples

So consequently I did not bite any apple
But on her lap I had a pleasant napple
And that’s how I spent the first night of June
The sun shines all day with very little moon

-A poem written by Christopher
Saturday June 1st 
2019.

Inspired by an old Tommy Makem and The Clancy Brothers song
And the above picture 

Permalink 13 Comments

Renfield, The Kraken and 120 Barrels of Rum

May 15, 2019 at 10:00 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Humour, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, Politics, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , )

British MP Renfield R. Renfield and the Kraken Napoleon VI were on a yacht sailing from Normandy, France across the English Channel to England.

The pair would be attending a British Transhumanist/Aquarian Age Bonapartist Party Alliance rally for European Parliamentary elections on the beach where they’d land.

“I’m glad we’re sailing from Normandy and not Marseille,” the Kraken remarked as he read a newspaper, “apparently a giant piece of seaweed ate a whole bunch of people in the Old Port area of the city yesterday.”

“The world is getting crazier with each passing day,” Renfield pushed aside his sushi roll that he had been eating.

“How many barrels of rum have we got on board this yacht?” The Kraken asked.

“120,” Renfield answered.

“I better get started then,” the Kraken opened the first barrel, “we’ll probably be across the Channel before we know it.”

“I’ll join you in a few minutes,” Renfield commented, “I’ve currently got an interview via Skype with BBC News.”

The BBC interviewer asked Renfield, “Why was the attempted coup against Maduro in Venezuela a couple of weeks ago a failure?”.

“Because the U.S. government planned it and not myself,” Renfield humbly replied.

“Wise men say only fools rush in,” the Kraken, now on his 3rd barrel of rum, started singing an old Elvis Presley song while doing an impersonation of Elvis wearing an old medieval codpiece and gyrating his hips.

“How should a coup attempt against Maduro in Venezuela be planned?” The interviewer inquired of Renfield.

“Ma-tilda, Ma-tilda, she takes me money and run Venezuela,” The Kraken serenaded with an old Harry Belafonte song in the background as he started working on his 4th barrel of rum.

“It should be planned with brains and not Twitter tweets,” Renfield answered, “because as we know, there’s Hell toupee in the White House Oval Office.”

“And you’ll come a Waltzing Matilda with me,” the Kraken sang an old Australian outback song as he began his 5th barrel of rum.

“And what’s your opinion of the rising tensions between the U.S. and Iran in the Middle East?” The interviewer wanted to know.

“There is a house in New Orleans they call the Rising Sun,” the Kraken began air playing his imaginary guitar as he sang and worked on his 6th barrel of rum.

“Well, Jesus said, Blessed are the peacemakers for they shall be called the Sons of God,” Renfield replied, “I guess this means that warmongers such as John Bolton and Mike Pompeo are the sons of Satan.”

“That old black magic has me in its spell,” the Kraken sang an old Ella Fitzgerald song as he quickly worked his way from his 6th up to his 9th barrel of rum.

“Um… who’s that crazy octopus in the background?” The interviewer finally had to ask.

“He’s my French electoral coalition partner for the European Parliament elections,” Renfield smiled.

“For your eyes only, only for you,” the Kraken sang an old Sheena Easton song as he started taking his clothes off while doing a slow strip tease.

The English beach where the British Transhumanist/Aquarian Age Bonapartist Alliance rally was being held quickly started filling up with onlookers after the BBC interview with Renfield and sung commentary provided by the Kraken was televised.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday May 15th
2019.

Permalink 4 Comments

The Debutante’s Ball 1941: A Poem

March 18, 2019 at 10:30 pm (Comedy, Culture, Detective story, Entertainment, Geopolitics and International Relations, Humour, International Intrigue, Mystery, Poetry, Romance, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )


Marissa Van Horne, Debutante

“You’re here to escort me to the ball, Mr. Albion?”
The laughing smiling face of the beautiful young woman
looked at me with merriment and amusement in her sparkling eyes
which glimmered like stars above her sunshine golden gown,
“A famed Los Angeles private eye reduced to a chaperone?”

I, Carson Cody Albion, stopped in my tracks
when I heard this statement
I was a private eye
But I had never thought of myself as famed.

“Don’t be so modest,” Marissa remarked with a wry smile as if she could read my mind, “of course you are!”
“The ball starts at 8 PM?” I queried looking at my watch.
“Yes, but drinks are served starting at 7,” she laughed.
“I don’t think your parents hired me to watch you get inebriated before the ball,” I said as I held open the arms of her fur coat
so she could finish her fashion ensemble for the evening.

Only the LA glitterati rich would wear fur coats
on a hot Los Angeles evening
But as the hired help, what did I know?

“No,” she slid her arms through the coat, “my parents hired you to keep me away from Lev Tomi.”

That was true.
They had.
Titus Van Horne was an influential newspaper editor in the city.
He seemed to know everything about everyone in the state of California
A West Coast J. Edgar Hoover as it were
Minus that DC bureaucrat’s penchant for wearing women’s clothing in private
Which was a good thing for the Van Horne family fortune
For the Paris dresses and gowns that Mrs. Van Horne and daughter Marissa wore
were already keeping the Bank of Monte Carlo afloat
to say nothing of Hitler’s Reich
while the Vichy government were reduced to making money off mineral water
A third Van Horne (and a male one at that) adorning the best of Parisienne feminine apparel
would definitely have put the Van Horne family fortune in the red
like Alger Hiss in the U.S. State Department

Van Horne knew all about Orson Welles’ private life
He had to
For the Boy Wonder of New York radio and theatre
was making a movie based on the life of Van Horne’s boss

But Van Horne knew nothing whatsoever about Lev Tomi
This older man that young Marissa had started seeing at the start of this year
Marissa just claimed that she was taking Russian language lessons from him
Nothing like a LA society girl with a hankering to visit the Soviet Union and see Josef Stalin’s paradise for herself
The movie The Grapes of Wrath had recently been shown in Moscow
Uncle Joe had hoped that this would cause outrage among Moscow’s workers
when they saw how the poor in America were treated
It caused outrage all right
but not in the way that Uncle Joe had hoped
Moscow workers had become outraged that the poor in America actually owned their own trucks
Viewings of the movie soon became obsolete in the USSR
Joining the obsolescence of most personally owned motor vehicles among the common people there

When Marissa came home and told her parents
that she had asked Lev Tomi to be her date
to the LA society’s debutante ball
Titus Van Horne finally put his foot down
causing him to be rushed to LA General Hospital
to get his now even deeper ingrown toe nail surgically removed

After a week of recuperation, Titus Van Horne and his wife Olivia came to see me
And asked me to be Marissa’s escort to the debutante’s ball
Since I had nothing pressing on me at the moment
Save some old white shirts that needed to be steampressed at the neighbourhood’s Chinese laundry
I took the case.


Olivia and Titus Van Horne asked Carson Cody Albion Private Eye to be their daughter Marissa’s escort to the LA society elite debutante’s ball

As I got into the back of the limousine with Marissa
I instructed the chauffeur to drive us to Ming Lo’s Blue Lantern Restaurant
I figured imbibing Marissa with a light Chinese dinner at 7
would far be safer than imbibing her with drinks prior to the ball

I turned out to be wrong on that
It must have been the spicy chop suey
that was the Blue Lantern special
It turned Marissa into a tigress in heat
And I was explorer Frank Buck
Bringing her back alive

It was now 11 PM
I had failed to present Miss Van Horne to the debutante’s ball by some 3 hours
Her beautiful gold dress lying on the seat of the booth along with her nylons and spiked stilettos
And all my clothes lying on the floor underneath the table
Implied a very unusual Russian language lesson was going on
when coincidentally Mr. and Mrs. Van Horne entered the restaurant right at 11 PM

I felt no inclination to open my fortune cookie which the waiter just brought
If it was accurate, I knew well what it would say
You can send me my cheque in the mail for my services
I hastily said to Mr. Van Horne before heading out into the night
like a stallion galloping out into the Santa Ana winds

I had no idea who this Lev Tomi fellow was
But I think I may have just saved his life
Too bad, I can’t say the same for my own.

-Carson Cody Albion Private Eye

-A Carson Cody Albion
Private Eye poem
and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday March 18th
2018

Permalink 13 Comments

The Raven Rapper Sings A Rap Song

March 10, 2019 at 10:55 pm (Comedy, Entertainment, Geopolitics and International Relations, Humour, Music, News, Poetry, Politics, Television, Vampire novel, Video) (, , , , , , , )

Simon Cowell (a judge on the TV shows America’s Got Talent and Britain’s Got Talent) was having a dream whereby he was appearing as a guest judge on the Canadian TV talent show Canada’s Got Cannabis.

The premise of the program was the judges judged the talent after they had smoked a whole bunch of pot.

Simon’s fellow judges for the show were Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau and the ET gray Gali-Gula (an ET gray from the planet Nibiru who was possessed by the spirit of the ancient earthling Roman Emperor Caligula).

The cactus plant juggling penguin who was covered in bandaids made Justin think sadly of his own marijuana smoking desert cactus plant Strawberry Fields Forever who was being held prisoner at a Chinese Communist re-education camp for transgendered Uighurs in the Xinjiang region of eastern China.

As the penguin was being carried off stage on a stretcher to a waiting ambulance, Justin Trudeau received a text message on his Huawei smart phone that hundreds of thousands of jobs were being lost in the Canadian province of Alberta.

“Who cares?” Justin yawned and shrugged and helped himself to some more cannabis cookies.

Justin had fond memories from his childhood of his father Pierre Elliott giving Albertans the raised middle finger from the window of a train as they rode through Banff National Park.

The next act was a giant gorilla who would be climbing up Toronto’s CN Tower to rescue a screaming Kim Kardashian who was at the top.

He would be doing this as he was buzzed by drones resembling World War I biplanes and triplanes.

As the body of the late Kong was loaded into a hearse big enough to fit him, Justin received a text message on his Huawei that thousands of jobs might be lost in the Canadian province of Quebec.

“Oh shit, I gotta go,” Justin cried and ran out the auditorium, “Maybe I can pressure Jody Wilson-Raybould to do something. Oh shit, she’s resigned from the cabinet.”

The next act appeared on stage as the remaining Simon Cowell and Gali-Gula smoked their tokes.

“And so, what’s your story?” Simon asked the next act as he hummed the tune to the song I Dreamed A Dream from the musical Les Miserables.

“Well,” a giant raven appeared on stage, “I’m a raven and I’m immortal and I’m the same raven who once sat on a bust of Pallas Athena in Edgar Allan Poe’s lodgings over a century and a half ago.”

“How positively dreary,” Cowell remarked as the show approached the midnight hour.

The raven broke into his rap song,

“Oh yes, it’s true that I’m a raven
you might think I’m rather craven
sitting atop Athena’s head
as if it were my own bed
even if I shout “Nevermore”
as I come rapping at your door
while you sing praises of lost Lenore
stop nodding your head weak and weary
stop crying with your eyes so bleary
don’t you know Lenore’s gone for good
That’s the saying in the hood
take your punishment like a man
and stop throwing kleenex in the can
Think of it as bleak December
stop trying to remember
let your mind be like a dying ember
cast out your thoughts of lost Lenore
while I find my way to the door
my parting words, Nevermore.

-A vampire novel chapter
and rap song
written by Christopher
Sunday March 10th
2019.


The Raven’s advice: Time to give up thoughts of Lenore

Permalink 18 Comments

Renfieldian Hypnosis: Donald Trump Sings Marty Robbins’ Out In The West Texas Town of El Paso – Updated Version

February 25, 2019 at 11:56 pm (Comedy, Culture, Geopolitics and International Relations, Humour, International Intrigue, Music, music videos, News, Romance, Satire, Spy Tales, Technology, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , )


“Out in the West Texas town of El Paso, I fell in love with a Mexican girl…”

British MP Renfield R. Renfield was learning from the Dragon Warrioress Crown Princess Lenora of Lemuria the very powerful techniques of hypnosis they practiced in that ancient civilization.

Renfield had told his good friend Amadeus Emanon that he was going to use a Lemurian hypnosis technique on Donald Trump just prior to the Donald’s giving his acceptance speech for the Presidential nomination at the Republican National Convention in 2020.

Curious as to what Renfield was up to, Amadeus decided that he couldn’t wait that long.

He went to see Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster at the Set Enterprises laboratory to see if the psychic little crustacean could pick up images from the 2020 Republican Convention.

It turned out that Michelangelo could.

Amadeus watched the convention on the television next to the lobster tank as Michelangelo worked his lobster antennae to the max and Harvey the invisible rabbit did the same with the rabbit ears on the old television.

Here was the scene at the Convention just prior to Trump giving his convention acceptance speech:

Convention Announcer: Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States… Donald Trump…

Trump walks on to the stage waving to the crowd as the musical theme Hail To The Chief is being played.

While the musical theme Hail To The Chief is being played, rare 19th Century film footage of Lakota Sioux Chief Sitting Bull being hit by hail stones during a hail storm is projected on to the large film screen behind Trump.

“I see Renfield managed to successfully hypnotize the film projectionist at the Convention,” Amadeus remarked to Michelangelo.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Trump told the cheering and adoring crowd, “I’m not going to give an acceptance speech. Instead I’m going to sing a song…”

Trump grabbed the microphone, walked up the stage and started to sing,

“Out in the West Texas town of El Paso, I fell in love with a Mexican girl,
On the U.S.-Mexico border, I arranged to meet her,
And as I rode, I thought of a thousand ways to greet her,
but when I arrived on the scene, I found that some idiot had built there a wall,
and found out by hitting my head against it, it caused my fine looking toupee to fall…”

When Trump had finished singing about how he had fallen in love with a Mexican girl out in the West Texas town of El Paso, he walked backstage where he was hit full force in the face by Melania’s purse.

The First Lady was quite upset with the song’s lyrics.

A secret service agent talked in code on his walkie talkie, “Hello Jupiter, this is Top Dog. Shit Hole is down. Repeat. Shit Hole is down. He requires urgent medical attention. Fiery Slovenian has hit him. Repeat. Fiery Slovenian has hit him.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday February 25th
2019.

Permalink 9 Comments

Wilkie The Cat Plays Abraham Lincoln On Broadway: A Poem

February 18, 2019 at 11:56 pm (Arts, Celebrities, Comedy, Culture, Entertainment, Humour, Poetry, Satire, theatre, Theatre Arts) (, , , , , , , , , , )

Wilkie the feline thespian decided to celebrate Presidents’ Day 2019
By not drinking his own urine as proposed in AOC’s deal New Green
Rather he would play the role of Abraham Lincoln
and he did so after much heavy drinkin’.

Now Wilkie the Cat fancied himself the Orson Welles of Broadway
even though he was a bigger flop than a halibut caught in a codway
His proposal for a Presidents’ Day play
which drove theatregoers away
Was to play the role of Abraham Lincoln
with his catty whiskers, he’d be winkin’ and blinkin’
And his girlfriend would play Mary Todd
while the audience would play the part of Nod
which in their seats would be what they’d be doin’
As great theatre lovers underwent a serious screwin’

With encouragement from the ghost of that junior Ed Wood
Wilkie would put on the best show he could
which meant that turkey from outer space Plan 9
would when compared with Wilkie’s Lincoln look like Casablanca sublime

Wilkie fancied a play within a play like weeping over Hecuba within Hamlet
or Pyramus and Thisbe looking for rooms to let
all for the benefit of Midsummer’s wet dream
As Puck causes mortal aspirations to come apart at the seam

Wilkie’s idea was to have John Wilkes Booth as an actor on stage
appearing in Our American Cousin an 1865 theatrical rage
and have Booth shoot Lincoln from the stage rather than the Presidential Box
And allow John Wilkes Booth time to wipe the blood off his socks

Needless to say the idea sounded so much better over 10 bottles of gin
as Wilkie regaled the cast with his own peculiar historical spin
taking dramatic license to the seeming level of a mortal sin
Which it was pre-Vatican II
As Fishy Fridays
gave way to beef stew.

Sean Connery would play Our American Cousin
His line, “Miss Moneypenny, my head is abuzzin’
I have swiped the Army’s budget for the building of a wall
Because doing so I must admit makes me feel rather tall
As wearing this wee tartan kilt has me in its thrall
And the blasted neighbours won’t pay for this fine looking wall
Can you imagine their sheer arrogance and gall
And Congress won’t let me shut down government until way next fall
so I’m forced to declare an emergency even though there’s none at all.”

And Johnny Depp playing the fairy godmother of walls would appear in pink tights
giving LGBTQ members of the audience severe nocturnal frights
As Depp waves his magic wand, lo and behold
From one of his mix matched socks, a gun he does unfold
For the fairy godmother of walls is John Wilkes Booth
his night day job of exchanging nickels for a tooth
the Shakespearian actor did kindly forsooth

But Wilkie as Lincoln was eating a tuna fish sandwich
And Baphomet in the next booth was eating roast ostrich
And as William Shatner appeared as Captain James Kirk
It turned out both patrons’ food allergies were at work
With the force of a mid-Atlantic gale breeze
Wilkie and Baphomet let out a ferocious sneeze
And the wall came a tumblin’ down
right on the Statue of Liberty’s crown.

The play is over
The day is done
And Wilkie from his creditors
is now on the run.

-A Wilkie The Cat poem
written by Christopher
Monday February 18th
2019.


Theatre goers smiling because they haven’t yet seen Wilkie The Cat’s Broadway play about Abraham Lincoln.

Permalink 2 Comments

The Duck Called Samuel Puddlington At Lake Louise: A Poem

December 30, 2018 at 11:57 pm (Detective story, Geopolitics and International Relations, Humour, Nature, Poetry) (, , , , )

He was the duck they called Samuel Puddlington
His girlfriend said he left things muddlington
since he often danced with other women
of the human variety at great estates while drinking gin gin
said she, “I find this neither fowl nor fair”
and left him for a strand of monkey hair
that had fallen from the American Trumpster’s toupee
that disgraced Scots German Donald who said there would be Hell to pay
unless Congress caved in and built him a wall
Sam took the news well and went to another grand ball

When he had finished dancing up a storm
like John Travolta with an itchy tape worm
his frog and rabbit friend suggested they go to Canada
and ski while wearing a bandana

So they headed way out west to beautiful Lake Louise
the gem of the Blue Canadian Rockies
They skiied here
They skiied there
and did so without underwear
but seeing as how they were animals no one minded
the same not the case for pot smoking Justin Trudeau who was fined-ed
for displaying nudity in public
while ho-hoing like Saint Nick

Later while having dinner at the Chateau Lake Louise
his rabbit and frog friend both started to sneeze
perhaps long underwear they should have worn
for they came down with colds and went to bed forlorn

Sam stayed in the dining room and finished his dinner
in dancing, skiing and eating he was always a winner
He noticed a gent had left his briefcase on a table
Being curious like oxen in a Nativity stable
He went over and took a peek
while finishing his soup cockaleek

They were the files of Carson Cody Albion Private Eye
a legendary immortal shamus detective guy
Sam helped himself to a gravy dipped French fry

Inside was an old black and white photo
black and white like Kansas for Toto
before reaching the colourful land of Oz
A land far away from reindeer and Santa Claus

The photo was of the legendary Jaguar Woman of New Orleans
a shapeshifting cat woman whose dress came apart at the seams

On a note next to the photo, Albion had carefully written
in writing so small, it could easily be flea bitten
if fleas would ever eat someone else’s words
but such thinking is for the birds
thought Sam like a duck out of water
as he watched bourbon getting the best of a drunken otter

Albion had written “The Jaguar Queen of New Orleans
whose dress in a 1930s jazz club came apart at the seams
is none other than Semiramis the legendary Queen of Babylon”
and Samuel Puddlington thought, What the Heck is going on
but that, dear reader, a tale to be told in a future New Year dawn

-A poem written by Christopher
Sunday December 30th
2018.

Permalink 8 Comments

Next page »