Haiku About Glenn Frey

January 18, 2016 at 7:29 pm (Music, News, Obituaries, Poetry) (, , , , )

Haiku About Glenn Frey

To soar as eagle
Glenn Frey checks out of Hotel
Planet Gaia now

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Nero Wilson and The ET Gray

May 20, 2014 at 6:08 pm (Entertainment, Music, News, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Nero Wilson and The ET Gray

Nero Wilson the lead electrical violinist for the band Nero Wilson and The Cleveland Cleavers was lying in bed in his hotel in Los Angeles California.

He was playing a gig somewhere in LA tonight.

He couldn’t remember where.

A few nights ago he and his band were playing an open-air concert in the desert outside Mesa, Arizona- the same night that rumours were circulating that a UFO had crashed in the vicinity of the concert.

Maybe a UFO had crashed that night.

After all members of his band were acting pretty strange since then.

Well even stranger than usual he should say.

His cousin Dave Wilson (whose band name was Abbott Costello) the drummer had naturally got lucky with a groupie that night and had made out with a hot looking brunette named Lana who coincidentally was wearing a mini dress with a picture of ET on it.

His cousin Charlie Wilson (whose band name was Bud Lou) the electrical guitarist was once again complaining that he had no one to make out with.

And at the rate he was going, Charlie had whined, it was going to take him forever to equal Mick Jagger’s bedding record.

The band’s lead (and only) female singer Sekhmet had hidden what appeared to be a large teddy bear in her suitcase and wouldn’t let anyone near it.

All the while drinking bottles of blood (of course that wasn’t so unusual. That was something Sekhmet had done since Nero first met her).

Then they had left Arizona and had driven to California in their old 1960s Volkswagen van that still had old hippy peace symbols on it as well as stickers that said Make Love Not War, Peace Now, Ban The Bomb, and Nuke Nixon.

Sekhmet was sleeping in her coffin in the back (as she always did whenever they drove in the daylight).

Her suitcase now had a combination lock on it.

Charlie and Dave were busy performing Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony with their coughing and hacking and respiratory problems as a result of driving with the windows open (the van’s air conditioning system had apparently died on the same day as Charles de Gaulle according to the used car salesman from whom they bought the van) and they were inhaling all that smoke blowing in from the Southern California wild fires as they drove west.

Nero Wilson the only member of the group who was wearing an oxygen mask was having no problems as he drove the van.

Quite a memorable trip west, Nero thought as he went and showered.

When he had finished showering and shaving and brushing his teeth, he came out of the bathroom and went over to the closet.

When he opened the closet, an ET gray walked out.

As rumours on the Internet social networking sites would put it later, ET gray comes out of the closet in Nero Wilson’s California hotel room.

Nero Wilson’s mother Agrippina almost choked on her mushroom soup back home in Cleveland Ohio as she read the rumour that had been shared over 17,155 times on a close friend’s Facebook status.

To be continued.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday May 19th

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The Room: Hotel California

October 30, 2011 at 10:19 pm (Commentary, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

He was a part of the criminal underworld- its darkest darkest part.

The Raven was the name he went by.

Only a few close friends knew his real name.

And he had so few close friends.

By far his most devilish work was done in cyberspace- on social networking sites.

The Raven did not make money at this.

Not like the drugs he sold.

But it’s what gave him the most joy.

The most delight.

Evil for the pure simple joy of evil.

It was not often that the Raven’s curiosity was aroused.

But it was aroused this time.

When he received a key to Room 722 of the Hotel California in Palm Springs, California.

In an envelope.

In the mail.

An envelope addressed to him at his most secret location.

With no return address on it.

The key was an old fashioned metal hotel key.

Not like the computerized key cards that most hotels gave out these days.

So the Raven drove down to Palm Springs.

To the Hotel California.

He discovered in the lobby that the elevator wasn’t working.

So the Raven walked up 7 flights of stairs to the 7th floor- the floor on which was room 722.

He stood outside Room 722 and was a little hesitant to open the door.

“What’s stopping you, Raven?” a tall blonde man outside Room 721 asked.

The Raven looked at the questioner.

“Aren’t you Dracul Van Helsing the famous Canadian vampire hunter?” the Raven asked.

“I am,” the man replied.

“What are you doing here? How do you know my name?” the Raven wanted to know.

“I track vampires,” Van Helsing answered.

“Well,” the Raven laughed, “I’m no vampire.”

“There’s more than one kind of vampire,” Dracul Van Helsing lit a cigarette despite the California state’s strict no smoking laws and blew smoke in the Raven’s direction.

“I don’t know what you mean,” the Raven smirked.

“I’m talking about people who pose under different aliases and different personas at various blogging and social networking sites,” Van Helsing approached the Raven, “people who befriend lonely, sad and depressed people- people who are suicidally inclined and then by befriending such people try to encourage those people to commit suicide. And in many cases, some do. Those people who pose as friends and then try to push others into suicide are a modern 21st Century cyberspace form of vampires.”

“Well,” the Raven laughed, “you can’t prove any of that.”

“But I know you did it,” Van Helsing approached.

“What are you going to do? Kill me? I’m not a vampire of the Dracula kind,” the Raven continued to smirk, “I’m a mortal flesh and blood human.”

“No, I’m not going to kill you,” Van Helsing replied, “you’re going to kill yourself. You may have noticed the elevator door is open on this floor and yet the elevator is trapped on the 8th floor above. You’re going to jump down the elevator shaft and kill yourself. That way you will no longer be able to go after lost lonely souls and get them to end their lives.”

“And how are you going to get me to kill myself?” the Raven laughed.

“Why don’t you take that key and open the door to Room 722?” Dracul instructed.

The Raven did so.

What he saw in the room literally turned his hair white.

The Raven turned around and faced Van Helsing.

He seemed to choke on his own words, “You… you… you… you’re more than just a vampire hunter aren’t you?”.

“Yes,” Van Helsing calmly lit another cigarette and again blew smoke in the Raven’s direction, “I am.”

The Raven dropped the key to Room 722 on the floor, ran down the hall and jumped down the elevator shaft.

His shrill penetrating scream as he fell downwards was the last sound he ever made on this Earth.

Van Helsing calmly opened the door to the stairwell and walked down the stairs.

To be continued.

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