Jack O’ Hare At The Calgary Stampede: A Poem

July 8, 2017 at 6:30 pm (Nature, News, Poetry) (, , , , )

Jack O’ Hare At The Calgary Stampede

Jack O’ Hare decided to go to the Calgary Stampede
he brought along some carrots on which to feed
he found some real tiny boots in which to put his 4 furry feet
and put a cowboy hat on his head which was kind of neat

He watched the chuck wagon races
and bulls putting cowboys through their paces
he saw roping
and groping
he saw the famous 8 second ride
and those who early on land on their hide

He avoided going on the carnival rides
he didn’t want to upchuck his carrots from his insides

He hopped here
he hopped there
he hopped everywhere
Jack O’ Hare thought that this was indeed the place to be
as he watched fireworks atop the hat of Mayor Naheed Nenshi.

-A Jack O’ Hare poem
written by Christopher
Saturday July 8th
2017.

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Dashwood Forrest and Pan Goatee In Calgary

March 29, 2017 at 5:30 pm (Commentary, Culture, Folklore, Horror, Mythology, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

“What a place totally devoid of culture,” Dashwood Forrest the Oscar Wilde of the 21st Century said to his Undead butler and valet Mulligan the Irish zombie.

“I’d have to agree,” Mulligan the Irish zombie remarked. He had only spent less than 24 hours in the city and he was already forgetting how to recite Irish ballads and poetry.

“I imagine if one were looking for culture and learning in Calgary, one would probably only find it among certain people living in homeless shelters in a city such as this,” Dashwood Forrest sipped on his chocolate milkshake.

“I’d have to agree,” Mulligan the Irish zombie nodded, “and what extremely ugly women seem to live in this city. I’ve never seen such fat ugly looking specimens.”

Mulligan the Undead promptly died again as he looked out the window and saw the walking specimens of ghastly horror.

Mulligan’s last words before dying a second time were, “Genesis 6 would have never happened had the angels landed in Calgary instead of the Middle East. There would have been no rise of the Nephilim because the sons of God would not have found the daughters of men attractive.”

“Truer last words were never spoken, Mulligan,” Forrest acknowledged, “with the possible exception of Oscar Wilde’s last words spoken in his room, “Either that wallpaper goes or I do.” It’s amazing how unattractive interior decorating can lead to deaths of great geniuses. To say nothing of how unattractive exterior decorating can lead to the death of one’s valet.”

Dashwood Forrest thought of calling South African witch doctor Sterling Makabo on his mobile phone and get him to chant a spell to bring Mulligan back from the dead.

He thought he’d wait a while however until they had left Calgary.

Forrest was in a quandary however. Even though he was gay, the site of such repulsive ugly looking members of the opposite sex waddling around and fender bumping their broomsticks in public was enough to kill one’s libido faster than taking a cold shower in a U.S. Army barracks.

Forrest removed a classical ancient Greek olive oil lamp from his jacket pocket.

The lamp had been a gift from his good friend Ivanka Trump for favours rendered.

If he remembered his Arabian Nights folklore correctly, Aladdin used a magic lamp to summon a genie.

Maybe he could rub this lamp and summon a genie to bump off all these ugly women.

Dashwood Forrest rubbed the lamp.

Pan Goatee appeared.

“How the Hell did I get from an Orson Welles repertory film festival in Washington D.C. (where strangely enough I was the only one in the theatre) to a milk shake bar in what looks to be the city of Calgary- the city of gay cowboys- not surprising given the overall unattractiveness of the women here,” the genetically created satyr serial killer scratched his head.

“I do most humbly apologize, my good man,” Dashwood Forrest bowed, “or rather my good satyr, I was hoping to summon a genie but you’ll do. I was wondering if you could slay these ugly women for me.”

“Happy to oblige,” Pan Goatee took out his astrally projected laser machete and walked out the door where he proceeded to behead ugly women left, right and center.

Pan Goatee’s aesthetically oriented mercy killing actions led to Mulligan the Irish Zombie coming back from the dead.

“Why did we come to Calgary anyways?” Mulligan asked Dashwood Forrest.

“To see Lake Louise in the Blue Canadian Rockies to celebrate Dame Vera Lynn’s 100th Birthday earlier this month,” Dashwood Forrest explained.

“Then let’s go see Lake Louise and go,” Mulligan pleaded.

“An excellent idea,” Forrest said, “go outside and hail a taxi for us, will you?”.

As the Michael Jackson song Thriller played in the background on the old milkshake bar diner’s jukebox, Mulligan the Irish zombie ran outside and did just that.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday March 29th
2017.

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Enduroman: A Poem

September 6, 2016 at 4:05 pm (books, Comic Books, Culture, Humour, Poetry, Science-Fiction) (, , , , , , )

Enduroman: A Poem

(written for my friend Stephen R. creator of the great comic book hero Enduroman)

Spider-Man and Superman all come to a crawl
and feel like they’ve hit the proverbial brick wall
when they come against the mighty Enduroman
who’s sometimes shirtless to pick up a cosmic tan

His real name is Matt Larson
he’s no axe-wielding Johnny Carson
his feats of strength and endurance will leave you amazed
but you’ll live unlike a Swiss villa at the End of Days

In C.I.O. * Headquarters beneath the Calgary Tower
he was zapped with Neuma Energy’s power
He was a shirtless early riser to the task
he was zapped while the Prof enjoyed a flask
and while Turnbull enjoyed his whisky and gin
Matt’s DNA was altered beyond that of the Man of Sin.

To Prof Turnbull’s surprise
emerged from the chamber before his very eyes
and while Mustard Seed clients ended up a fried flash in the pan
Matt Larson survived to become Enduroman.

And when the UFO Alien Hordes attacked the Earth
while Amelia Edwards pondered the circumstances that led to birth
the alien hordes destroyed everything in Earth’s Midnight Hour
The only thing that survived was the Calgary Tower.

Enduroman endured, Matt Larson survived
minus Dale Carnegie’s chapter on honey from the bee hive
But since the Public Library was now gone
his fine would not amount to an arm and a song

Enduroman was as mad as Hell
and while looking for a new planet to dwell
he encountered an archon from the Council of Nine
The Supreme Council of the Universe- so puffed up and fine
and what was the name of this pompous seemingly friendly archon?
Tremble ye mortals and shake at the name- for it is Zargon.

Zargon sent Enduroman off to complete many a task
and then teleported elsewhere to sit on his ass
he sent the Enduroman to search for the Five Pieces of the Pyramid of Power
although Matt occasionally took a coffee break in the Calgary Tower.

Supremacy, Dagon, Vulcanus and Gorkon the Enduroman fought
while Zargon sat and smoked the best of cosmic pot.

The Five Pieces of the Pyramid of Power were then gathered
and the prism that was Prison Planet for earthlings was eventually scattered
Amelia Edwards did survive
like honey from cosmic bee hive
Matt Larson took a lick and much more
he got to the bottom of this Eve’s apple core.

Amelia Edwards had been waiting for a millennium to up and come
and Matt was more than happy to beat the drum
He relubricated her plumbing inside and out
and being Enduroman he did not succumb to gout.

But word reached Zargon of Matt’s great new piece of tail
and the old archon felt like a tired beached whale
He’d send Matt to avenge the alien hordes’ destruction of the Blue Planet Earth
and give Amelia his own lessons in what sets in motion the circumstances of birth

Now Hogarthe was the mastermind behind the alien horde
Destroying planets was what he did when he got bored
Hogarthe- yes that’s Hogarth with an “e”
No cartoonist comic strip artist was he
rather an Apollyon Abaddon style destroyer he wanted to be

So Hogarthe went in search of Unix
Formula
while Matt served as Amelia’s horned cornucopia
how does this tale end you may well ask
as Matt and Amelia enjoy their great piece of ass
well write Marvel or DC to publish Stephen R.’s great comic book
and these questions that plague you will be let off the hook.

–A poem written by Christopher
Saturday September 3rd 2016
inspired by Stephen R.’s
great but unpublished
comic book
Enduroman.

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