A Morning With Renfield and Amadeus

November 15, 2017 at 4:04 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, Humour, News, Politics, Vampire novel) (, , , )

A Morning With Renfield and Amadeus

Amadeus Emanon was sitting at the table in the kitchen of the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set’s colossal London mansion.

He was watching a BBC news clip on his Samsung Galaxy tablet.

The clip was an excerpt from a speech that his friend Renfield R. Renfield MP had delivered in the House of Commons yesterday.

In the clip, Renfield said, “The reason George H.W. Bush Sr. said “Read my lips” is he was trying to distract people from watching where he was putting his hands.”

Renfield came into the kitchen for breakfast 🍳 and Amadeus promptly switched off his Samsung Galaxy.

“A friend of ours from Western Canada emailed me a photo of Calgary this morning,” said Amadeus, “I noticed a lot of hoar frost around in the picture.”

“Are you talking about what gleams off trees 🌲 in the winter ❄️ or a surplus of prostitutes with an icy disposition?” Renfield asked.

And so the conversation went on in a similar vein over the munching of toast with marmalade and bacon 🥓 and eggs 🍳.

Amadeus put the radio on to listen to BBC World News.

At that moment from his aquarium in the Set Enterprises laboratories, Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster psychically transmitted via his lobster antennae an extraterrestrial UFO radio news broadcast done over Planet Earth thousands of years ago.

The broadcast was picked up on the kitchen’s antique vintage 1930s RCA radio.

Intoned the ET radio news announcer via Michelangelo’s simultaneous English language translation, “Pride Parades in the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah came to a sudden and abrupt halt earlier today when fire and brimstone fell from the sky disintegrating both cities…”

And such was a typical morning breakfast in the life of Renfield and Amadeus.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday November 15th
2017.

Advertisements

Permalink 9 Comments

Napoleon VI Looking For A Public Relations Coup

November 12, 2017 at 7:30 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Humour, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

Napoleon VI Looking For A Public Relations Coup

The kraken who called himself Napoleon VI (formerly Italian mad scientist Dr. Poseidon Prometheus who had uploaded his consciousness into the body of a cyborg octopus 🐙- part octopus and part robot) had been moping around the house ever since he lost the 1st round of the French Presidential election this past April coming in 12th of the 12 Presidential candidates running.

His wife Medusa (the ex-Gorgon) was getting sick of his constant moping and his constant bellyaching for a bellyaching kraken is not a pleasant sight.

“Why don’t you do something concrete?” Medusa scolded as she stood in her new Christian Dior evening gown and read a new book explaining the possible whereabouts of ex-Teamsters boss Jimmy Hoffa, “Instead of constantly complaining, do something to get your name in the news. The French electorate are regretting having elected Emmanuel Macron President. Do something positive and praiseworthy and you’ll become famous and get elected President of France next time.”

“But what can I do?” Napoleon VI wondered which one of his 8 metallic tentacled arms he should use if he was ever invited to play golf with Donald Trump.

“Well, there’s talk of a possible war between Saudi Arabia 🇸🇦 and Iran 🇮🇷. Why don’t you see if you can’t bring peace between the two countries? Then you’ll be hailed as the great peacemaker,” Medusa adjusted her gown.

“I suppose I could,” Napoleon VI realized he’d probably have to skip the Monte Carlo Monopoly Game Board Tournament if he were to do that.

. . .

The two Bedouins riding on their camels 🐫 through the Arabian Desert were startled to see a giant octopus 🐙 parachuting out of a plane ✈️ and landing on the sands not far from them.

“I say,” the Kraken Napoleon VI spoke in a Monty Python style British accent thinking that this would make him more understandable to people who only spoke Arabic, “can you direct me to Saudi Crown Prince Mohammad bin Salman’s palace in Riyadh?”.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday November 12th
2017.

Permalink Leave a Comment

Renfield and The Churchillian Bottle of Brandy

November 11, 2017 at 4:42 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, History, Humour, News, Politics, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , )

Renfield and The Churchillian Bottle of Brandy

It had recently come to the attention of Renfield R. Renfield MP that the last bottle of brandy that Sir Winston Churchill had ever purchased prior to his death was still unopened (thus giving some idea of the large collection of bottles of brandy that Churchill must have had).

Renfield thought that as the 21st Century Churchill, he really should be in possession of the last bottle of brandy that Winnie owned.

The bottle of brandy was to be auctioned off at Sotheby’s Auction House in London.

Renfield was unable to make it to the auction in person so he hired Dashwood Forrest the Oscar Wilde admiring owner of the Dashwood Forrest Art Gallery in London to act as his agent.

Forrest attended the Sotheby’s auction along with his living dead manservant Mulligan the Irish zombie.

Unlike most zombies, Mulligan the Irish zombie never bothered eating brains seeing as how he never made use of brains when he was alive so why should he start now that he was dead?

Instead Mulligan relied on Guinness stout and Jameson whiskey for his sustenance- the same liquid sustenance that kept him going when he was alive and the same sustenance that kept him going now that he was one of the living dead.

Besides mortals kind of got pissed off at zombies for wanting to eat their brains although admittedly in this decade of heavy social media usage, the objections were no longer as vigorous as they used to be.

Mulligan was useful at the auction because he frightened off all the other bidders who wanted to bid on the Churchillian bottle of brandy.

Dashwood Forrest won the bidding and presented the bottle of brandy to a very happy Renfield R. Renfield .

Renfield sat in his Parliamentary office with his bottle of brandy, his recently acquired marble bust of Sir Winston Churchill and his recently acquired oil painting of Sir Winston Churchill (that hung on the far wall adjacent to his desk).

Renfield opened the bottle of brandy, poured some into his glass and then held it up to the painting in a toast.

Sir Winston Churchill then walked out of the painting and sat in the chair across from Renfield.

“You know what the saddest part about being a ghost is for me?” Churchill sighed, “Not being able to smoke a cigar or drink a brandy.”

Renfield looked down at his glass of brandy.

It must be pretty potent stuff Renfield thought to himself.

He hadn’t even took a sip of it yet and already he was starting to see things.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday November 11th
2017.

Permalink 17 Comments

The Wolfman and Joseph Stalin

October 30, 2017 at 7:55 pm (Culture, Entertainment, Film, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, Horror, Humour, International Intrigue, Movies, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

The Wolfman and Josef Stalin

It was Christmas 1941 and Der Fuhrer Adolf Hitler was enjoying a private screening of the recently released 1941 American horror film The Wolfman with Lon Chaney Jr. in the title role.

“What a delightful film,” Der Fuhrer purred as he wiped sauerkraut off his lips with his napkin, “it makes me glad that the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor and not Hollywood.”

“Indeed,” Nazi Propaganda Minister Joseph Goebbels agreed as he swallowed a huge German sausage.

“I have something I’d like to show your Excellency,” the Ahnenerbe scientist Dr. Fritz Falkenberg stated.

“Please, I’ve looked at enough German sausages tonight,” Der Fuhrer remarked as he sipped a pinkish fruit cocktail.

“No,” Dr. Falkenberg spoke an incantation and the character of the Wolfman emerged from the film reel projector.

“Great Odin!” Hitler shrieked.

Dr. Falkenberg spoke the incantation backwards and the Wolfman returned into the film reel projector.

“Impressive,” Der Fuhrer clapped his hands and then wiped them with a napkin.

“I have taken the liberty of mailing a copy of The Wolfman film to Soviet Communist Party General-Secretary Josef Stalin,” Dr. Falkenberg explained, “with the incantation spoken over the film. When Stalin watches the film, the Wolfman will jump from the screen and kill him.”

“I hope you haven’t mailed it using a Third Reich post mark,” Goebbels ate a Polish pickle, “otherwise Stalin won’t open it. Our two countries are at war you know.”

“I used one of our spies in Canada to mail the movie from Ottawa to Moscow,” Dr. Falkenberg explained.

What Dr. Falkenberg hadn’t counted on was the slowness of Canada’s postal service.

The film didn’t arrive in Moscow until March 5th 1953.

Stalin was attacked and killed by the screen leaping Wolfman during the course of the film.

Radio Moscow promptly attributed Stalin’s death to natural causes.

Der Fuhrer was not alive to enjoy the announcement.

-A Halloween short story
and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday October 30th
2017.

Permalink 9 Comments

Gali-Gula Teleprompts A Justin Trudeau Speech

October 9, 2017 at 8:39 pm (Comedy, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, Humour, International Intrigue, News, Politics, Science-Fiction, Vampire novel) (, , , )

Gali-Gula Teleprompts A Justin Trudeau Speech

Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau was about to give a speech to a Toronto media club (for the Toronto media loved Prime Minister Pothead Selfie 🤳 Socks as more intelligent people called him- in fact it was the Toronto media’s ultimate objective in life to be able to have their lips 👄 surgically attached to Justin’s buttocks so they could forever be kissing his ass).

As Trudeau waited behind the curtains to walk out on to the stage, the Niburuan ET gray Gali-Gula (who was possessed by the ghost of the ancient Roman Emperor Caligula) appeared to him.

“What are you doing here?” Justin’s jaw dropped along with his underwear, “I’m only supposed to see you if I’ve been inhaling pot.”

“And what do you think that aging hippy anti-Vietnam war protestor veteran you’ve been talking to the past half hour was smoking, you moron?” Gali-Gula asked.

“Oh, shit,” Justin gulped.

“Pot actually,” the ET gray corrected the Prime Ministerial bozo.

“How can I give a speech if you’re here?” Justin was flustered 😩, “I’ll lose my concentration.”

“I’ll help you,” Gali-Gula smiled, “I’ll act as your teleprompter.”

Justin went out to face the media and the music.

“On the issue of the Energy East pipeline…” Justin paused.

Gali-Gula teleprompted, “The people of Western Canada and the province of Alberta in particular can go fuck themselves for the sake of national unity. Everyone knows the Ottawa government revolves around the master race province of Quebec.”

Trudeau repeated the words verbatim then gulped.

“You know that’s what you’re really thinking,” Gali-Gula smiled at him.

“On the issue of tax reform that my Finance Minister Bill Morneau and myself are bringing forth…” Trudeau again paused.

Gali-Gula teleprompted, “We’re going to completely wipe out the middle class in this country. As you know, historically speaking, Communist revolutions are most successful in societies where there is no middle class present. Why are we doing this? Because it’s 2017. It’s the 100th Anniversary of the Russian Bolshevik Revolution for Christ’s… I mean… for… Lenin’s sake.”

Trudeau repeated the words verbatim then gulped again.

“The acorn never does fall far from the tree,” Gali-Gula recalled Justin’s Marxist-Leninist sympathizing father Pierre Elliot.

“On the issue of legalizing pot which….” Justin paused again.

“… appears to be the only campaign promise that I’m actually keeping,” Gali-Gula teleprompted, “we’re naturally moving full speed ahead. Why? Because potheads are so stoned and out of their minds, they’ll naturally line up to receive the Mark of the Beast when that great global leader the Antichrist, the Beast, 666 arrives on the world 🌎 scene.”

Trudeau once again repeated the words verbatim and then gulped again.

“That’s probably the first totally honest speech that Justin has given since he first entered politics,” Gali-Gula remarked to a shocked 😳 Prime Ministerial aide who couldn’t see or hear him.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday October 9th
2017.

Permalink 7 Comments

Westminster MPs’ Stand-Up Comedy Night For Charity

September 24, 2017 at 7:33 pm (Comedy, Entertainment, Geopolitics and International Relations, Humour, News, Politics, Vampire novel) (, , , , )

Westminster MPs’ Stand-Up Comedy Night For Charity

A group of MPs from the Westminster Parliament in London were holding a dinner and a stand-up comedy night to raise money for charity.

Amadeus Emanon and Angelique Dumont decided to attend the dinner.

The dinner was good but then it came time for some of the MPs to perform.

The first one up was British Prime Minister Theresa May.

Said Mrs. May, “I hear there are some here in the Conservative caucus who want to replace me as party leader and as Prime Minister. Since my last name is May, it makes me glad that there’s no one named June in the Tory caucus.”

Mrs. May’s joke fell flatter than a Hollywood starlet’s pre-silicone injection brassiere.

The next up was British Foreign Secretary Boris Johnson.

His routine of “Well, you can call me Johnson or you can call me BJ…” didn’t go over so well either.

Third and last was Tewkesbury In The Cotswolds British Transhumanist MP Renfield R. Renfield.

Renfield began,

“Have you ever wondered what would happen if two immature kids fighting in a playground had access to nuclear weapons?

Well with Donald Trump and Kim Jong-un, we’re about to find out…”

Amadeus winced.

Renfield’s observation was a little too close to the truth to laugh at.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday September 24th
2017.

Permalink 9 Comments

Jack O’ Hare In Film Noir: A Poem

September 4, 2017 at 7:15 pm (Comedy, Crime, Detective story, Entertainment, Humour, Mystery, Poetry, Radio) (, , , , )

Jack O’ Hare In Film Noir: A Poem

It was on the other side of San Francisco Chinatown
lived the man called Emmanuel Gold Brown
He got electrocuted when the radio fell into his bath one night
with the result he died listening to Inner Sanctum but not from fright
The water was still bubbling when police and ambulance arrived
causing the lieutenant to quip this place is hotter than a jazz jive

Electrocution was the cause of death ruled the city’s coroner
no surprise- unlike the plum in pie of little Jack Horner
The question was who threw the plugged radio into the tub
leading to murder most foul- aye, there’s the rub

Now Jack O’ Hare was a private eye in town
one who knew a verb was different from a noun
The other eyes in town didn’t have much of an education
so bad- they could have been Congressmen planning legislation

It just so happened one hot and sultry night
as a lonely carrot succumbed to Jack’s bite
that Jessica Rabbit came strolling through the door
wearing an outfit that sent most men dead to the floor

Jessica’s tight fitting dress caused Jack to hyperventilate
but that would not be the extent of this bunny rabbit’s fate
for Jessica knew who had slain Emmanuel Gold Brown
the dashing night club owner and man about town

How do you know? Jack asked in between munching on carrots
he wondered why the building next door was loaded with ferrets.
I was there in the bathroom at the time
answered Roger Rabbit’s wife who was dressed to the nine.

Jack choked on his bottle of Avocado 🥑 and Grapefruit mix
he didn’t drink bourbon like those eyes in the Sticks.
What were you doing in the bathroom when the man was taking a bath 🛀?
This remark caused Jessica Rabbit to laugh and laugh.

Said Jessica, We owe the IRS a lot in back taxes
far more than Lizzie Borden gave her parents whackses
Now Roger’s acting career doesn’t pay much when it comes to loading the dice 🎲
In fact it doesn’t even pay for a take out order of rice 🍚
So I, sighed Jessica, have to make a little money on the side
which often involves taking men for a ride

That means you’re an —–? Jack paused on his paws
“Escort is the word I prefer,” Jessica said, “The service called Ma’s.”
“I just thought Mrs. Barker made apple pie,”
Jack rubbed the carrot juice out of his eye.
“Oh, Mrs. Barker has plenty of pies galore
as well as all sorts of cats coming in and out the door.”
“It’s a real cat house then?”
Jack caught an egg from a hen.
The hen ran up the fire escape
It was how she kept in shape.

“You could very well say that,”
Jessica spoke setting the trap,
“Now come along with me
to the wharf by the sea
and you’ll meet Brown’s killer
for real- not like in a Thriller.”

“And why would I want to meet Brown’s killer?” Jack asked,
“I’d sooner meet the Ghost of Christmas Past.”
“Because I’m paying you to,”
Jessica adjusted her dress tight and blue.

“Paying me to meet a killer?”
It did sound like an opening line in a thriller.
Jessica showed Jack her diamond ring 💍
as the nightingale in the alley started to sing 🎶
“These carats could buy a lot of carrots,” Jessica suggested
as she lowered her dress top showing she was amply breasted.

“Indeed they could,” Jack rose to the occasion
He didn’t need any more persuasion
so Jack and Jessica headed to a wharf on the Bay in San Fran
A foggy night where people get lost just trying to find the can

Jack and Jess got out of the car in time before it headed off the dock
With the splash, Jack sighed, “There goes my favourite sock.”
He really should learn to drive with his shoes on
either that or stop walking bare feet where the salmon spawn.

“Good evening, Mr. O’ Hare,”
said a voice most sinister,
“I’ve been expecting you.”
“Have you seen a floating red sock pass through?”
Jack O’ Hare was anxious to know
before he felt the urge to go.

“I killed Emmanuel Gold Brown,” the man grinned
to deed he’d admit but wouldn’t confess he sinned
“And why did you do that?” Jack sounded like the BBC’s Detective Foyle
while he sat and waited for his tea to boil

“Why are you boiling tea on the dock?”
This man wondered if Jack’s private eye reputation was all a crock
“Because I’m thirsty,” replied Jack
pulling out biscuits for a snack,
“Your voice sounds very familiar.”
The bunny waved aside Jessica’s offer of a Pilsner.

“It should sound familiar,” the man frothed, “for I am the voice of The Shadow.”
A ship 🚢 sailed by carrying llamas for cargo.
“You don’t sound much like Orson Welles,”
Jack found on the pier a book of spells.

“Ever since Welles played that role, the public won’t accept another voice for the Shadow,”
into his handkerchief the man his nose did blow.
“Them’s the brakes,” Jack remarked as a car spun out of control off the dock
Jessica wondered if she should go home and change her frock.

“So,” Jack scratched his whiskers, “why did you kill Emmanuel Gold Brown?”
“Because,” the man said, “he wasn’t listening to me- Lamont Cranston wealthy young man about town.
He was listening to Inner Sanctum Mysteries told by Raymond your host.
For that mistake in radio programming, he’s now a ghost 👻.”

The man took out a gun and aimed it at Jack,
“I wanted to get my reputation back,
to kill the world’s greatest private eye like meat 🍖 on a rack
but whoever told me about you was smoking too much crack.”

“Smoking is bad for your health,”
said Jack whose advice was medical wealth.
The man clicked the gun, “I’ll shoot you like a dog in my pyjama,”
It was then he was run over by a fleeing llama.

The Shadow was buried the very next day
while Jack was hopping through farm fields and hay
Jack thought of the night before and of Jessica Rabbit, he really should have kissed her
He sighed, went home, put the radio on and listened to The Whistler.

-A Jack O’ Hare poem
written by Christopher
Monday September 4th
2017.

Permalink Leave a Comment

Emmanuel Macron’s Make-up

August 25, 2017 at 5:34 pm (Comedy, Geopolitics and International Relations, Humour, International Intrigue, News, Politics, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , )

Emmanuel Macron’s Make-up

Amadeus Emanon was sitting in the living room of the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set’s colossal west London mansion.

Sitting across from him was the world famous London dominatrix Sherrielock Holmes who was now the new Chief of Security 🚨 and Intelligence Gathering for Set Enterprises having replaced Renfield R. Renfield (who had recently been elected MP to the British Parliament).

Sherrielock was dressed in a white blouse, black leather mini skirt, black fishnet pantyhose and red spiked stiletto high-heeled shoes 👠 expecting a client for her dominatrix services.

She had told Amadeus that the anonymous client was a recently fired member of the Trump White House so Amadeus figured that the person could be any number of a 1000 people.

Renfield himself was still down at Westminster having told Amadeus that he was busy doing work on behalf of his constituents.

Amadeus figured that it was more likely that Renfield was cavorting with high price London call girls down in his Parliamentary office and charging it to his Parliamentary expense account.

Renfield being the unique politician he was had found a way of screwing the British taxpayer in more ways than one at the same time.

Amadeus, reading the newspaper, remarked to Sherrielock Holmes, “I see Emmanuel Macron since he became President of France 🇫🇷 has spent more than 26,000 Euros (£24,000) on make-up since he took office in May of this year.”

At that moment the ghost of the late American writer Truman Capote entered the room (Capote’s ghost being one of many now wandering the earth since the ancient Egyptian god Thoth’s entry into this current spatial/temporal dimension).

Commented Capote on the news story Amadeus had just been reading, “I gueth President Macron wanted to look pretty for when Donald Trump held his hand at the Bastille Day Parade.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday August 25th
2017.

Permalink 3 Comments

The Strange Case of The Emerald Green Cat of Bulgaria 🇧🇬: A Poem

August 10, 2017 at 7:45 pm (Comedy, Culture, Detective story, Entertainment, Humour, Literature, Mystery, News, Poetry) (, , , , , )

The Strange Case of The Emerald Green Cat of Bulgaria 🇧🇬: A Poem

Jack O’ Hare
jack rabbit fair
he really was quite the bunny
that some thought was very funny

One day while he was out hopping
he decided to do some shopping
he spent some time looking at phones
as well as browsing through books about Sherlock Holmes

He bought the latter
avoided walking under a ladder
and went back to his quaint little home 🏡
right next to an abandoned honeycomb
Which was indeed a very wise thing
for Jack loved the way the birds sing
but not the way the bees sting

The latter could be a real pain in the ass
made it unpleasant to sit on the grass
so the honeycomb was long abandoned
possibly since the time of Aladdin

I wonder what became of his genie
Jack thought while eating a vegan weenie
He really should have bought some hot dog buns
although the raisin bran flavoured ones
often gave him the runs

Jack then read the Sherlock Holmes story A Study In Scarlet
and discovered it wasn’t about Mystery Babylon’s harlot
He read the huge volume straight through
while munching on his multi-carrot stew
he finally finished at The Adventure of Schoscombe Old Place
published in 1927
and closed the volume thinking Sherlock’s exploits were heaven

He decided upon putting the book 📚 on the shelf
and dusting off the statue of the garden elf
that like Holmes he’d become a consulting detective
because to be Inspector Lestrade was to be defective

So he put an ad to that effect in the Rabbit Weekly
even though his girlfriend told him it was so geeky 🤓
But come the Wednesday after the ad
came a Saint Bernard dog looking sad 😭 🐶

“I can’t get to sleep at night,” said he
the Saint Bernard dog Wally McGee
Asked Jack, Have you tried drinking herbal tea ☕️

It’s the apparition that appears outside my window each night that is the problem
I’m not sure if it’s ghost or goblin
sighed Wally with fear in his eyes
as he ate the last of Jack’s French fries 🍟

This will mean another run to the grocery store thought Jack
as I have no potatoes left in the sack
Neither will I have Lola
thought Jack as he sipped his Cola
ever since she caught him looking at Mae West’s melons
in an old movie about call girls and felons
She left Jack with these parting words, Aloha.

So as far as Jack’s love life went, he was now in the Lone Star ⭐️ State
but such were the quirks, twists and turns of Fate
Getting back to the problem at hand
Jack looked at the Saint Bernard dog well tanned
for this was a dog who had his day in the sun
as unleashed through a park, he went on a run

So describe the apparition you saw
Jack motioned with his foot to Wally’s paw
All right said Wally
pausing to look at a collie,
“Wow! There’s a real bitch in heat!”.
Sighed Jack, Be less like Trump and be more discreet.

So Wally went on, Getting back to the apparition at hand
it was the most terrifying sight in all the land
it frightened away our neighbourhood Calypso band
and turned my rock garden into mounds of sand

Sounds like quite the spectacle,
Jack was forming thoughts diametrical,
What was it exactly that you did see?
Well, said Wally, I had gotten up to pee,
I went out the back door to my favourite tree
And it was there I saw it
I don’t know what to call it

Describe it as best as you can,
Jack used a carrot 🥕 for a fan
for it was one heck of a hot summer night
the kind where goose bumps make your pants too tight

Said Wally,
By golly!
It was a ghostly ghastly feline
It was blocking the way to my tree line
It glowed emerald green
really quite the scene
and everywhere it went, it glowed in the dark
it could totally light up Central Park
and what I’m telling you is certainly no lark

Jack put on his deerstalker cap
his thinking hat with a flap
He lit up his Sherlockian style pipe
he had Basil Rathbone down to type

Well, Jack coughed
sending the chickens aloft,
this cat you describe I think I’ve heard of
from the lips of Vladimir Birdov
He died in my arms
On Green Acres Farms

He had recently come back from Varna, Bulgaria 🇧🇬
having encountered a cat with menthyl malaria
which it contracted from a little green frog 🐸
that had sat there like a bump on a log

And this unusual type of malaria
previously unknown in Bulgaria 🇧🇬
turned the cat’s colour to a ghostly emerald green
making this tabby the talk of the bar scene

But what’s it doing here in Canada 🇨🇦, Wally wanted to know
He was bursting a gut and quite possibly his toe
Jack looked at Wally and gave his hat a twirl
sending up pipe smoke in quite a widening curl
And then quietly said, Don’t be such a nerd
For you mean to say you haven’t heard,
Prime Minister Justin, unlike Trump, is welcoming all refugees
even those with a emerald green cat furry sneeze.

-A Jack O’ Hare poem
written by Christopher
Thursday August 10th
2017.

Permalink 2 Comments

The Real Reason Coleridge Never Completed His Poem Kublai Khan

August 10, 2017 at 3:24 pm (Humour, Literature, Poetry, The Supernatural) (, )

“What the Hell? But it’s only a crescent moon tonight…”

Samuel Taylor Coleridge Werewolf

The real reason Samuel Taylor Coleridge never completed his poem Kublai Khan.

Permalink 2 Comments

Next page »