The Last Minutes of Don Chillinger

June 6, 2022 at 9:17 pm (Humour, Poetry) (, )

Mobster Don Chillinger with an admiring quartet of beautiful women

Mobster Don Chillinger; he had it all
Prohibition king of booze run from a Cleveland stall
Prohibition ended
His Rolls-Royce rearended
He left Ohio
Jilted Hawaii Five-O

Wound up in California
Where film stars are born – yeah
Started selling arms to the Japanese
So he could buy himself a huge deep freeze
As it was the ’30s, Pearl Harbor hadn’t happened yet
And Japan wished to wrap China in its Fascist net
But still FDR in the White House was concerned
And told J. Edgar Hoover who had just been de-wormed

So the trap was set
Hoover said, “You ain’t seen nothng yet”
Don Chillinger thought he had a plane to let
And desired to see a tequila sunset

Don Chillinger set out to the airport
Surrounded by fair maidens like a royal court

He walked towards the plane
Headed to New Spain
Now known as Mexico
The place he desired to go

The pilot in the plane called The Golden Eagle
Was dressed like a World War pilot goggle wearing beagle
He blew Chillinger away with the machine gun on the propeller
And Chillinger fell to the ground, his last words were “Tell her”
Tell her? Who? Which one of the fair ladies four?
We don’t know for Chillinger has gone through death’s door.

Hoover sitting in the back of his limousine
Definitely wasn’ looking clean
The sandwich he ate made him look a mess
And he wished he was wearing that one woman’s evening dress

J. Edgar Hoover wished he was wearing the evening dress of the woman in the far right of this photo

-A poem written by Christopher
Monday June 6th 2022

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One Last Cigarette

June 4, 2022 at 9:02 pm (Humour, Poetry) ()

And her last request
Was a final cigarette
Light was provided

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Maria Petrova

November 8, 2021 at 9:14 pm (Entertainment, Geopolitics and International Relations, Humour, International Intrigue, News, Poetry) (, )

The young beauty Maria Petrova
Stood guard at the Russian bord-uh
And the young bear cub did want to play
Because unlike Biden’s cabinet, he wasn’t gay.

-A poem written by Christopher
Monday November 8th 2021.

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Vampiress Mei-ling Manchu Makes An Amazing Discovery

October 17, 2021 at 10:59 pm (Comedy, Culture, Gothic, Horror, Humour, Literature, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

Vampiress Mei-ling Manchu, who drank red wine (unlike Bela Lugosi’s Dracula), was in the study of Transylvania’s Castle Dracula where she had made an amazing discovery:

Mei-ling Manchu: This is very interesting…

Mei-ling Manchu: Apparently writer Truman Capote did not write In Cold Blood…

Mei-ling Manchu: He wrote in… ink.

Mei-ling Manchu: However the same won’t be said about me.

-A vampiress Mei-ling Manchu
Halloween photo montage
written by Christopher
Sunday October 17th

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Hudson Valley Halloween Horror

October 5, 2021 at 10:58 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Gothic, Gothic poem, Gothic romance, Horror, Humour, International Intrigue, News, Sorcery, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , )

Vincent: I’m afraid, cousin Jenny, that cousin Floyd will be unable to dine with us this evening.

Jenny: Why ever not?

Vincent: He had the misfortune of being eaten by a black jaguar in the woods last night.

Jenny: A black jaguar in the Hudson River Valley?

Vincent: No doubt the poor creature was a long ways from home. Which may explain why not much was left of Floyd when he was found. Only his right ear and the thumb on his left hand which was tattooed with a drawing of Napoleon. How they were able to identify him.

Jenny: How positively awful.

Vincent: I’ll say. He owed me $100. Money that I suppose now will never be repaid.

Jenny: What was he doing walking in the woods?

Vincent: No one is sure. The only thing known for sure is that he was wearing a pink nightgown while walking in the woods.

Jenny: So that’s why they called him Pink Floyd.

Vincent: Undoubtedly.

Jenny: Whatever happened to that nutty woman they found walking in the woods last week?

Vincent: The one who claimed to have come from the year 2021 and believed herself to be a female Christ saying if people vaccinated themselves, they were Apostles of her love.

“That’s the one,” Jenny nodded.

“I had her burnt at the stake as a witch,” Vincent answered.

“Burnt at the stake?” Jenny was shocked.

“Yes, there was some old wood I was wanting to get rid of,” Vincent nodded, “so I killed two birds with one stone.”

A pair of large black ravens fell from the sky.

“She was a witch?” Jenny turned pale.

“Yes the demons Moloch, Baal and Baphomet visited her room at the village inn,” Vincent explained, “where they jabbed the innkeeper’s daughter with a needle and she died.”

“Awful,” Jenny shook her head.

“There is much evil in the land,” Vincent noted just as the clock was 5 minutes shy of twelve, “Darkness falls across the land, the midnight hour is close at hand and whosoever shall be found without the soul for getting down must stand and face the hounds of Hell and rot inside a corpse’s shell.”

“There’s a three headed dog out there,” Jenny gasped as she looked out the window.

“That would be Cerberus,” Vincent explained.

Vincent went over to his sitting room book shelf and grabbed a volume of ancient Koine Greek and looked up the words for “Sit” and “Good boy”.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday October 5th

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Haiku About John Dillinger’s Car

July 1, 2021 at 10:49 pm (History, Humour, Poetry) ()

John Dillinger’s car
riddled with cops’ bullets for
expired meter

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An Evening With The Carstairs

June 5, 2021 at 10:32 pm (Humour, Short Story) ()

“Well I suppose this would be an inopportune moment for me to ask the boss for a raise seeing as how you just shot him.”

So said Basil Carstairs to his wife Anne Carstairs.

“I couldn’t help myself,” Anne remarked as she held the gun in her hand, “He was the twenty-first person to come to dinner this year and not ask for a second piece of my apple truffle cake for dessert.”

“It’s a good thing for me I’m allergic to apples,” Basil commented.

“What are we going to do?” Anne asked.

“Well maybe that carpet you’re alway asking me to get rid of,” Basil thought aloud, “I could wrap his body up in the carpet and drive it to the dumpster in front of Nick Diamond’s Discount Carpet Warehouse and throw it in there.”

“An excellent idea,” Anne nodded.

It was a good thing that Basil had recently taken up weightlifting as a body inside a carpet was quite a heavy thing to carry.

When he returned from the avenue on which was located the dumpster in front of Nick Diamond’s Discount Carpet Warehouse, Anne was debating what she should do with the gun.

“Maybe throw it out the window,” Basil suggested.

Just then there was a banging at the apartment door.

“Police,” a voice called from outside the door, “Neighbours said they heard a gunshot coming from this room.”

“Now what?” Anne asked.

“Quick,” Basil went to answer the door, “Throw the gun inside the toaster.”

“The toaster?” Anne was incredulous.

“Yes,” Basil nodded.

Anne threw the gun inside the toaster just as Basil opened the door.

“Good evening, officers,” Basil bowed, “Neighbours are complaining about a gunshot you say.”

“That is correct,” the policeman nodded.

“It must be the wine I opened earlier this evening,” Basil pointed to the bottle in the ice container holder, “The cork gave quite a pop when it was uncorked. Sounded like a gunshot.”

At that moment the toaster popped up.

“Good heavens,” Anne rushed over to the toaster, “This toast has been burnt black. I better throw it down the garburator.”

Anne threw the “burnt toast” down the garburator.

“Do you mind if we take a look around?” Asked one of the officers.

“Be my guest,” Basil nodded.

After twenty minutes of perusing the apartment, “Nothing out of the ordinary here. Except… was there a carpet recently here?”.

“Yes, I spilled wine on it earlier this evening,” Basil explained, “My wife has such a thing about cleanliness, I got rid of it right away. Put it in the dumpster behind the apartment building. Probably still there now unless it was stolen by one of the neighbourhood gangs who figure they could probably still use it for something.”

“We’ll check that later,” said one of the officers.

“Would you gentlemen like to have coffee and a piece of my apple truffle cake?” Anne asked.

“Why not?” Said the senior officer.

Later after the officers had several cups of coffee to wash down their apple truffle cake, Anne asked, “Would you all like a second piece of my apple truffle cake?”

“No, gotta go,” said the senior officer.

“Me too,” said another.

“Me as well,” said a third and the fourth barked the same.

There was a mad rush to the door by all the policemen who quickly exited.

“Well, that got rid of them,” Basil noted.

A loud gurgling could be heard coming from the garburator.

-A short story written by Christopher
Saturday June 5th 2021.

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Jack O’ Hare: A Day Well Spent

May 30, 2021 at 10:30 pm (Humour, Poetry) (, , , )

He was the famous bunny called Jack O’ Hare
He saw the day was clear, sunny and quite fair
So he hopped here, he hopped there
He hopped around everywhere.

He hopped to the cabbage patch
Left there without a scratch
Even though the guard dog leapt into action
Jack fled in time by just a fraction.

He went to the carrot garden
And shrugged, “I beg your pardon?”
When he was chased away by Mrs. Jones
Who stopped to take Selfies on her cell phones.

He then went to the valley of green peas
And avoided some giant on his knees
He ate to his heart’s content
And thought this day heaven sent.

-A Jack O’ Hare poem
written by Christopher
Sunday May 30th

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Kraken Cravin’ Bacon

April 18, 2021 at 10:38 pm (Comedy, Entertainment, Humour, Poetry) (, , , , , , )

There once was a kraken
Who had a cravin’ for bacon
He crawled on to shore
While temperatures did soar
And ended up on the beach- a bakin’

-A limerick written by Christopher
Sunday April 18th 2021

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Michelangelo’s Dream of Bogey and Bacall

March 27, 2021 at 10:34 pm (Detective story, Entertainment, Film, History, Humour, Poetry, Romance, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster had a dream where he was playing Humphrey Bogart’s character of Philip Marlowe and having an encounter with Lauren Bacall.

After waking up, he decided to write a narrative poem about his dream.

He went over to his waterproof laptop to start writing but then decided to use his recently bought old vintage Underwood typewriter that had been custom refurbished to work underwater.

Grabbing some waterproof sheets of paper, he inserted them into his waterproof old vintage Underwood typewriter and started typing the poem.

Bogey and Bacall: Philip Marlowe’s Right On The Ball
A narrative poem
By Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster
Narrated in the First Person
By Philip Marlowe
(As played by Humphrey Bogart)

So I had come home after a hard day on the case
Rather difficult to try to sleep on a case of bourbon
I did do some work on that other case
Trying to find Max Spellbein’s younger daughter
Where do younger daughters hang out these days anyways?

I went down to Frankie’s Jazz Cafe
The Pink Flamingo Lounge
And even The Silverstar Nightclub
No sign of her.

I even went down to the bus depot and the shipyard
Her ship must have sailed when my bus came in
Does that make any sense?
Probably not.
Difficult to make sense
When one’s mind is adrift
In a sea of bourbon.

I lit a cigarette
Put it in my mouth
And made a silent prayer
That this combination of alcohol and flame
Didn’t send me up like a rocket on New Year’s Eve.

I thought I heard piano music coming from my piano
Which was strange
I rarely play the piano these days
Not since I got my fingers caught in that mousetrap
Under the altar of Saint Ignatius’ Church
When I said to the good priest,
“Pray it again, Sam.”

After sitting in my chair
Looking up at the ceiling
And watching the paint dry
It suddenly hit me
That I hadn’t painted this place in ages
So there was no drying paint to watch

That was definitely music I was hearing
So either someone was playing the piano
Or the angels were calling me

So I walked into the piano room
And there at the piano
Sat Max Spellbein’s elder daughter

Lauren Bacall: Playing the piano and singing, “When smoke gets in your eyes…”

I stood there
Inhaled the air from the open window
And realized I wouldn’t be spending the night alone.

-A narrative poem
and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday March 27th

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