Renfield Meets Captain Kerry Donegal In The Oscar Wilde Pub
British MP Renfield R. Renfield was sitting in a newly opened London pub called The Oscar Wilde.
He was planning his strategy to have his friend the Kraken Napoleon VI elected the new President of the European Union Commission.
Seeing as how German Chancellor Angela Merkel and French President Emmanuel Macron were in disagreement as to who should be the new EU Commission President, this allowed an opportunity for a rogue Brit like himself to put a Kraken into that position.
Seeing as how this was The Oscar Wilde Pub, Renfield decided to order himself a glass of absinthe as this was the favourite drink of such notorious writers and poets as Oscar Wilde and Charles Baudelaire and artist/painters such as Henri Toulouse-Lautrec and Amedeo Modigliano.
Seeing as how Renfield was neither an American Jesuit priest nor a leading U.S. Democratic Party politician nor a Hollywood bigwig, he ignored the fact that absinthe was also drunk by such satanic low-lifes as Aleister Crowley.
After 21 glasses of absinthe, Renfield was able to see spirits so as soon as the ghost of the 18th Century Irish pirate of the Caribbean Captain Kerry Donegal walked through the door, the MP invited him to sit down.
They introduced themselves to another and gave their respective backgrounds.
“So,” Renfield ordered another glass of absinthe, “you’re the pirate’s ghost that my psychic lobster friend Michelangelo saw ride that supposedly riderless horse Bodexpress at the Preakness Stakes?”.
“That was me all right,” the ghostly pirate blushed adding a little rouge to his overly white complexion, “I came in second from last.”
“We all have our embarassing moments,” Renfield recalled the lovely actress Gong Li turning him down for a date after he had asked her out in a crowded elevator.
“So how’s your political career going?” Captain Kerry Donegal asked.
“Well if Boris Johnson wins the leadership of the British Conservative Party in July and becomes Prime Minister of Britain,” Renfield ordered a tuna fish sandwich, “I’ll probably become Deputy Foreign Secretary In Charge of Geopolitical Intelligence Gathering and my parliamentary colleague and fellow Transhumanist MP the Welsh vampiress Morgana will probably become Deputy Home Secretary In Charge of Midnight Security.”
“Well, congratulations,” the pirate captain drank a toast in ghostly extra spirited absinthe.
“Still, I mustn’t count my chickens before they’re hatched,” Renfield helped himself to a plate of deviled eggs, “so what are your plans for the future?”.
“I haven’t quite decided,” Captain Kerry Donegal answered, “I moved out of 10 Downing Street last night after Prime Minister Theresa May invited me to watch the 1947 film The Ghost and Mrs. Muir starring Gene Tierney and Rex Harrison with her. After watching the film, I came to the conclusion that Mrs. May wanted to have a romantic affair with me so I left.”
“Yes, singing My Fair Lady to Gene Tierney isn’t so bad,” Renfield admitted, “singing it to Theresa May is another matter entirely.”
“By Liza, rather than sitting in the saddle to do little, I should have said to Bodexpress, move your bloomin’ ass,” the pirate captain reflected.
“And speaking of my fair lady, here comes my parliamentary colleague Morgana,” Renfield, after 23 glasses of absinthe, ran up to kiss her as she entered the pub.
“Why you predatory sexually harassing lecherous pervert,” Morgana said to him before kicking him out the door with one of her spiked stiletto high-heeled shoes.
“Absinthe makes the heart grow fonder,” were Renfield’s last words before succumbing to unconsciousness on the outdoor sidewalk.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday May 28th
2019.
Welsh vampiress Morgana: Not one to mess with
Dracul and Semiramis In Paris
Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing was at Quasimodo’s Cafe in Paris waiting for the European Parliament election results to come in.
He phoned his friend British MP Renfield R. Renfield who was in London.
“Hi, Renfield,” Dracul greeted him, “How’s your party doing?”.
“We’re ahead of the Conservatives,” Renfield was already on his 10th cognac in celebration, “so we’ll be sending a few MEPs to Strasbourg and Brussels. Nigel Farage’s Brexit Party has done the best so that must have been one lucky milkshake that some protester doused him with. How is the Kraken’s Aquarian Age Bonapartist Party doing?.”
“Well given the results so far, the Aquarian Age Bonapartist Party will be sending at least 2 MEPs to Strasbourg and Brussels,” Dracul looked at the television screen inside the cafe.
“So that means the Kraken Napoleon VI himself and his wife Medusa will be sitting in the European Parliament,” Renfield lit himself a cigar.
“That will be the case,” Dracul admitted, “Have you heard how Theresa May is taking the results?”.
“According to the gypsy fortune teller and psychic Dulcinea Lucia whom I ran into earlier tonight,” Renfield replied, “She says she saw Theresa May drowning her sorrows in a pub accompanied by the ghost of an 18th Century pirate.”
“Well, she’s one up on Margaret Thatcher then,” Dracul ordered a Napoleon brandy, “I don’t think the Iron Lady ever did that.”
“No, I don’t think so either,” Renfield considered the possibility, “The closest she ever got was when she said to Argentine President General Galtieri over the Falkland Islands Malvinas, your place or mine?”.
“The Kraken arrived in the cafe about an hour ago,” Dracul noticed the large octopus was downing champagne by the bucketloads, “He just got in from Tel Aviv. While there, he was told by Miranda the mermaid that sinister forces have developed a flesh eating killer seaweed designed to destroy France. Of course the Kraken already encountered that sinister piece of future sushi wrapping when he left Marseille for Tel Aviv yesterday.”
In the restaurant where Renfield was sitting, he ordered some sushi rolls from the waitress upon hearing this news.
“So, what’s new with you?” Renfield asked the vampire hunter.
“Well, a few days ago, I was kidnapped by the Syro-Phoenician goddess Atargatis while sitting in a Paris movie theatre attending a large screen showing of the movie Casablanca,” Dracul recalled.
“That must have been exciting,” Renfield was pleased by the restaurant’s quick delivery of the sushi rolls.
“It was,” Dracul smiled.
“What did she want?” Renfield said as he dove into the sushi rolls with his chopsticks.
“She wanted me to give her King Arthur’s battle banner on which was an image of a red dragon the famous Red Dragon Banner whose image is actually able to breathe fire in battle,” Dracul stated.
“And did you give it to her?” Renfield inquired.
“Oh, I gave it to her all right,” Dracul smiled again, “But not the Red Dragon Banner. That’s a family heirloom.”
“Well, I see the ghosts of Orson Welles and Winston Churchill are walking in through the door to join me in celebration,” Renfield finished his sushi rolls, “so I better go. Have a good night.”
“You too, my friend,” Dracul put his smartphone back in his pocket.
He looked towards a corner booth in the cafe and noticed Semiramis the legendary former Queen of Babylon sitting there.
As often happened when Dracul Van Helsing encountered goddesses and legendary queens, the setting had changed to black and white.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday May 26th
2019.
Dashwood Forrest Meets Captain Kerry Donegal
Dashwood Forrest was in his art gallery putting the finishing touches in hanging paintings for a new exhibition that would soon be opening.
“A remarkable likeness,” said the ghost of Captain Kerry Donegal who had just walked in off the street.
Forrest, who was somewhat psychically sensitive, turned to gaze at the speaker and noticed how much he resembled the figure in the painting.
“Captain Jack Sparrow!” Forrest gasped.
“Actually the name is Captain Kerry Donegal!” The pirate bowed, “But a few other people with the ability to see me around London have called me by that name.”
Former British Foreign Secretary Boris Johnson entered the gallery at that moment.
“Hello, Dashwood,” Johnson walked right through Kerry Donegal’s ghost since he couldn’t see him, “my sources tell me that you have a painting of Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow for sale.”
“I’ve just been told by an expert that it’s Captain Kerry Donegal,” Forrest mentioned.
“Well, whoever,” Johnson looked at the painting, “I’ve just been told on the highest authority that British Prime Minister Theresa May goes into orgasm whenever she sees a handsome looking pirate. No wonder the boys in Brussels were able to sweep her off her feet and get a Brexit deal to their liking and not to Britain’s. Although I’ve been told by an old school chum of mine that the boys in Brussels aren’t all that handsome. I wonder why he’d take note of that. Fills one with trepidation when I recall we shared a locker together in the school gymnasium’s shower and changing room.”
“You want to buy this painting for Theresa May?” The flower dropped out of Dashwood Forrest’s lapel.
“Yes,” Johnson nodded, “as a good-bye present. The old girl is undoubtedly on her way out. She’ll undoubtedly fail in her 4th attempt to get a Brexit deal passed through Parliament. Hell, even Renfield R. Renfield’s British Transhumanist Party is now ahead of the British Conservatives in the opinion polls for the upcoming European Parliament elections. I’m not sure how much more humiliation she can take. So she’ll probably resign soon. I’m sure this painting of a pirate captain will lift her spirits as she exits 10 Downing Street while I’m on my way in.”
“Hasn’t this fellow ever heard that expression, Don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched?” Captain Kerry Donegal asked in a thick Irish brogue.
“Did you feel a breeze just then?” Johnson looked around.
“Come to the office and I’ll write you up a Bill of Sale,” said Forrest.
“I’m sure it was this question of the Irish backdoor that did her in on Brexit,” Johnson remarked.
“Don’t you mean the Irish backstop?” Forrest asked.
“Oh yes, of course,” Johnson nodded, “why did I have Irish backdoor on my mind?” .
He once again walked through Captain Kerry Donegal’s ghost as the pirate was bending over to pick up his sword.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday May 22nd
2019.
Renfield, The Kraken and 120 Barrels of Rum
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.
British Transhumanist- Aquarian Age Bonapartist Alliance
British MP Renfield R. Renfield’s British Transhumanist Party had just forged an alliance with the French Aquarian Age Bonapartist Party of the Kraken who called himself Napoleon VI.
Should Britain have to take part in the May 23rd to May 26th European Parliamentary elections because of a Brexit extension, the British Transhumanists and French Aquarian Age Bonapartists would run together on a joint ticket with Renfield, the Welsh vampiress Morgana, the Kraken Napoleon VI and his wife Medusa seeking elections to the European Parliament.
At first Renfield had been reluctant to join forces with the Kraken since the cyborg octopus belonged to the Church of Scientology (as a result of the Kraken attending a workshop with Tom Cruise and John Travolta a month ago).
However the Kraken had had lunch with German Chancellor Angela Merkel today where she showed the eight legged creature the 2017 turkey remake of The Mummy that starred Tom Cruise.
After the Egyptian mummy princess Ahmanet, Cruise and the producer of the film jointly laid an egg 20 minutes into the movie, this was too much for the Kraken who swore off both Scientology and non-chicken laid eggs when the film ended.
Merkel broke the good news to Renfield by phone.
The Kraken flew to London from Berlin where Renfield and the would-be Aquarian Age French Emperor signed a pact.
Meanwhile in Washington DC, Donald Trump had labelled Iran’s Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps a terrorist organization.
The government in Tehran responded by labeling all U.S. Armed Forces in the Middle East a terrorist organization.
And the subject on Dr. Phil’s TV talk show today was childish behaviour shown by world leaders.
And on the Temple Mount in Jerusalem, the winged horse Pegasus had just landed on the mount the night before the Israeli national election.
And Russian President Vladimir Putin had brought in a spiritist medium to communicate with a Russian brown bear said to be possessed by the spirit of Grigori Rasputin as to why Pegasus would be landing on the Temple Mount the night before the Israeli election.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday April 8th
2019.
ET Gray Gali-Gula Encounters The Black Dragon
The ET gray Gali-Gula was sitting on the beach at Vancouver’s English Bay drinking bottles of Molson Canadian beer.
He had found an old fashioned dictionary on the beach (books along with encyclopedias which were no longer used in the age of the Internet).
Gali-Gula was surprised to see that when he looked up the word “Sleazebag” in the dictionary that Canadian Privy Council clerk Michael Wernick’s picture was there.
This depressed Gali-Gula as it reminded him of the SNC-Lavalin scandal in which his good buddy Justin Trudeau was involved.
A scandal which probably wouldn’t have happened if his good buddy Justin still had access to his pot smoking desert cactus plant Strawberry Fields Forever and was able to inhale the prickly little creature’s exhaled pot smoke.
For Justin was only able to see Gali-Gula (an ET gray from the planet Nibiru who was possessed by the ghost of the late earthling ancient Roman Emperor Caligula) when he inhaled pot smoke.
But thanks to Canada stupidly arresting Huawei CFO Meng Wanzhou on behalf of the U.S. government last December 1st, Chinese government operatives had in retaliation kidnapped Justin’s pot smoking cactus plant.
For a while, the prickly little fellow had been held captive in Calypso’s Bosom a Brigadoon style mystical village hippy commune on the Sechelt Peninsula which only emerged from its pot smoking mystical haze once every 7 years to appear to mortal eyes.
Seeing as how the cactus seemed to be enjoying his environment a little too much, it was moved to a Chinese Government Re-Education camp for transgendered Uighurs in the Xinjiang region of China where cannabis and pot smoking was definitely not allowed.
Seeing as how Justin was deprived of his access to pot smoke through the cactusnapping and captivity of Strawberry Fields Forever, he was unable to see and hear Gali-Gula for advice.
Now whenever Justin set out to make an ass of himself which was quite often, Gali-Gula would advise him not to do it.
When Justin listened to Gali-Gula’s advice, he didn’t make an ass of himself.
When he refused to heed Gali-Gula’s advice, he always made an ass out of himself.
But when Strawberry Fields Forever was kidnapped, Gali-Gula was invisible to Canada’s Prime Minister and was unable to warn Justin Trudeau not to pressure his Attorney-General and Justice Minister Jody Wilson-Raybould into intervening to protect the Quebec based construction firm SNC-Lavalin from criminal prosecution.
As such, Justin now found himself embroiled in the biggest political scandal his government had ever faced.
His poll numbers were dropping faster than flies at a Bill Clinton and White House Intern Reunion Convention.
And earlier this evening, both Jody Wilson-Raybould and her friend former Treasury Board President Jane Philpott had been booted off the deck of the Titanic that is the Canadian Federal Liberal Party caucus.
The iceberg of this fall’s Federal election loomed ahead.
And all because a bunch of West Coast potheads in the Vancouver Crown Prosecutor’s office, Canada Customs and the RCMP decided to follow U.S. government orders and arrest Huawei CFO Meng Wanzhou.
Speaking of West Coast potheads, almost everyone on the beach at Vancouver’s English Bay could see him.
They waved and asked for autographs.
A Black Dragon suddenly emerged from the waters of English Bay and approached the ET gray.
Most of the potheads could not see him.
“That’s because I have the ability to cloud their minds with rational thought- something their minds cannot handle,” the Black Dragon answered Gali-Gula because he could read his mind, “most U.S. politicians of all political stripes are unable to see me for the same reason.”
“Who are you?” Gali-Gula asked.
“I am the Black Dragon,” the Black Dragon bowed, “Supernatural entity advisor to China’s paramount leader.”
“I’m Gali-Gula, former ET gray advisor to Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau,” the little extraterrestrial looked sad.
“I know,” the Black Dragon smiled, “I advised Xi Jinping to abduct Strawberry Fields Forever.”
“You!” Gali-Gula looked angry.
“Don’t worry,” the Black Dragon breathed fire reassuringly, “he’s being held in a pot free zone- a government re-education camp for transgendered Uighurs in Xinjiang.”
At that moment a news story about transgenders broke on a nearby pothead’s radio.
The B.C. Human Rights Commission had recently fined somebody for saying that a transgendered political candidate had been born a biological male.
In response to the huge fine, genetically created satyr serial killer Pan Goatee had flown in from Alberta and had beheaded all the members of the B.C. Human Rights Commission.
He then put all the severed heads under the bedsheets in a bed owned by a transgendered Hollywood producer in Los Angeles along with an old autographed photo of Marlon Brando as the Godfather and an old autographed photo of 1960s TV star Mr. Ed The Talking Horse.
The producer screamed when he woke up in bed this morning and found all the items, the radio announcer noted.
“So you’ve come to gloat about holding Strawberry Fields Forever hostage?” Gali-Gula turned his attention back to the supernatural visitor from China.
“Yes,” the Black Dragon roasted some hot dogs for a bunch of potheads who were undergoing the munchies, “I’m actually on my way to Venezuela to give a King Henry V style Saint Crispin’s Day speech to 120 Chinese soldiers there who have joined 100 Russian soldiers there. Buenos Nochos.”
Gali-Gula whose Spanish wasn’t as good as the Black Dragon suddenly felt a craving for some good nachos.
Renfield Muses On The Mueller Report
British MP Renfield R. Renfield had left the House of Commons while fisticuffs and wrestling matches over Brexit were still going on.
British Prime Minister Theresa May had former Foreign Secretary Boris Johnson in a headlock and British Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn was having his balls crushed by members of the Democratic Ulster Party.
Renfield joined his friends Amadeus Emanon and Angelique Dumont for dinner in a nearby restaurant.
As Renfield and Angelique already had both dessert and then coffee while Amadeus was now working on his 33rd plate of the All You Can Eat Fish and Chips Special, the chef and the owner were both down on their knees saying their Hail Marys that the concert pianist’s ravenous appetite would soon come to an end.
“So,” Amadeus sipped on his iced tea, “what’s your reaction to the Mueller Report?”.
“Well, it should come as no surprise to intelligent people that there was no collusion between the Russians and the Trump campaign,” Renfield slowly worked on his third post-dinner and dessert cup of coffee, “as intelligent people realize that Vladimir Putin is too intelligent a man to have his intelligence agencies co-operate and work with a disaster in the making like Donald Trump. That fact was of course totally lost on the New York Times, The Washington Post and most Congressional Democrats. But then of course it would be.”
“I noticed the Mueller Report did not give a definite statement one way or the other on whether Donald Trump obstructed justice,” Angelique noted.
“No, I suppose a legal opinion will have to be formulated on whether or not being an idiot constitutes obstruction of justice,” Renfield leaned back in his seat, “The question did not have to be addressed previously in American history because no one like Donald Trump had ever occupied the White House before.”
“What does this portend for the future?” Amadeus asked as he was trying to decide between eating his piece of halibut or his piece of cod next.
“Well, it does bode well for Trump,” Renfield said, “given the New York Times and Washington Post track record. Both papers said there was no way Trump would win the 2016 election. When he did, both papers’ editorial boards tried to explain away their colossal error in judgment by blaming Trump’s victory on the Russians. Now that Mueller has shot a hole in that theory leaving both The Times and The Post with egg on their faces (causing vegan subscribers to both papers to cancel their subscriptions over the outrageous use of poultry byproducts), they will no doubt continue to insist that there’s no way Trump can win re-election. Which should be good news for Trump.”
“What will this mean for the world stage?” Angelique asked.
“Well, the Nicolas Maduro regime in Venezuela can probably breathe a sigh of relief,” Renfield answered, “as there probably won’t be any U.S. military intervention in Venezuela in the near future. Which would have been the case had Mueller found any criminal wrongdoing on Trump’s part. Trump would then have done what any U.S. President had done in the past when faced with a major political scandal at home and that is to start a war abroad in order to divert the electorate’s attention and get people to rally around the flag and rally around the President as the bearer of the flag. Venezuela being the closest place to intervene would have been Trump’s first choice. An added benefit as well since the body bags wouldn’t have so far to fly home.”
“So does this mean peace on the world stage?” Amadeus waved to the waiter to order another plate of fish and chips.
“Sadly no,” Renfield shook his head, “The situation in the Middle East could blow sky high at any moment. There was already a Hamas rocket attack on a suburb of Tel Aviv overnight. And the Israeli Air Force are currently bombing Gaza in retaliation. Syria, Iran and Russia may decide to do something about the Golan Heights situation in response to Trump recognizing Israeli sovereignty over the area. There are all sorts of fuses that could go off over there.”
The Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec during a raging sea storm on the Isle of Patmos (site of the Apostle Saint John’s vision of the Apocalypse)
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday March 25th
2019.
Haiku About Dostoevsky’s Vision of Future Communism In Russia
Fire in minds of men
Blood and revolution come
Hell will replace Christ
The Raven Rapper Sings A Rap Song
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
Renfield Calls On All EU Countries To Leave The European Union and Save The Internet
April 1, 2019 at 10:27 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, Politics, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (Amadeus Emanon, Articles 11 and 13 and 17 of The EU, Miss Angelique Dumont, Renfield R. Renfield, Sherrielock Holmes, The Apocalypse, The European Union, The Ghost of Sir Winston Churchill)
British MP Renfield R. Renfield had been so busy with the debate over Brexit and plotting to overthrow the governments of Russian President Vladimir Putin, Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan, Venezuelan President Nicolas Maduro and Pakistani Prime Minister Imran Khan that he had not been informed of Articles 11, 13 and 17 of EU regulations that would destroy the worldwide Internet as we know it and stifle freedom of speech, freedom of expression and artistic creativity leaving the Internet as a place where only those who buy and sell would be able to access the Worldwide Web.
“This is exactly the Mark of The Beast system of The Book of The Apocalypse or Revelation Chapter 13,” said Renfield who had attended Church for Mothering Sunday yesterday.
The Church’s regular Anglo-Catholic Vicar had been called away to Rome to help perform an exorcism on a Vatican Cardinal who was demonically possessed (the Cardinal was considered one of the frontrunners to become the next Pope after Francis).
The guest celebrant and preacher was a Calvinistic Reformed Anglican minister who ignored the readings for the day in the Book of Common Prayer and proceeded to use the occasion of Mothering Sunday to preach on the Mother of Harlots Mystery Babylon as found in Revelation Chapter 17 and the Mark of The Beast system as found in Revelation Chapter 13.
When Renfield found out about the EU regulations Articles 11, 13 and 17, he hit the roof.
As a group of workmen were brought in to repair the roof, they had to work their way around a group of environmentalists who had taken their clothes off in the Public Gallery of the British House of Commons and were currently mooning MPs over what they considered parliamentary inaction on earth’s climate change.
The gallery was cleared after a guest otter from DARPA was brought in who showed that otter flatulence could be as deadly to the environment as that of bovine creatures.
As MPs put on their gas masks and proceeded to vote on 4 different Plan Bs for Brexit, Renfield left the Commons to address the world media on Articles 11, 13 and 17 of EU regulations that would draconianly regulate the Internet.
Renfield spoke next to the statue of Sir Winston Churchill on the Thames River.
Said Renfield solemnly as he addressed the cameras and microphones, “I call upon all countries of the EU to immediately leave the European Union. Not only will this save Britain further embarrassment in giving the world the idea that the British have no idea what to do when it comes to Brexit, this action will also save the Internet as we know it.
As we know a bunch of assholes in the EU bureaucracy in Brussels want to turn the Information Superhighway (as self-proclaimed Internet inventor Al Gore called it) into a massive traffic jam with toll booths every 6 centimeters on the road. It’s high time we give these interfering busybodies in Brussels (whom Mikhail Gorbachev back in the late 1990s labelled the heirs and apostolic successors to the old Politbureau in the old USSR) the raspberry they so richly deserve. Such an action will finally wipe the eggs benedict and eggs Florentine off Theresa May’s face, close a possible Oscar Wilde and Lord Alfred Douglas “open backdoor” on the Ulster-Republic of Eire border and save the Internet and all its memes. After all, if there are no memes left, U.S. Democrats will have nothing to blame when they lose the 2020 U.S. Presidential election. They won’t have the Russians to kick around anymore for 4 more years of Donald Trump and his aesthetically challenged hairpiece.”
Renfield bowed to the media and then went over to talk to his friends Amadeus Emanon and Angelique Dumont.
“Well, how was I?” Renfield asked as he adjusted his Larry King autographed bowtie.
“It was a good speech,” Angelique replied, “but are you sure, people will take you seriously?”.
“Why wouldn’t they take me seriously?” Renfield stopped trying to tie his bowtie, “I was being perfectly serious.”
“Do you know what date this is?” Angelique asked.
“The date?” Renfield looked perplexed.
Amadeus showed him the date on his smartphone- April 1st.
“April 1st?” Renfield suddenly hit his forehead, “Oh shit. April Fools’ Day. People will think I was joking when I called on all EU countries to leave the European Union.”
“And to think they could have left the EU and signed a free trade pact with the 3 Mexican countries that Fox News said Donald Trump was going to cut off aid to,” Angelique sighed.
“One should always start the day by looking at the date on the calendar,” the ghost of Sir Winston Churchill advised, “that way there are no misunderstandings and you don’t miss any appointments. When I was alive, I occasionally missed appointments with my dominatrix Sherrielock Holmes. Which meant my poor buttocks had to pay double, sometimes triple and sometimes quadruple the next time to make up for it.”
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday April 1st
2019.
Dominatrix Sherrielock Holmes advises to always check the date on your calendar.
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