Qonzilqointec and The Coming Storms of Baalshamin
The Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec was in her Mexico City penthouse apartment examining printed documents of emails that she had received.
She was wearing a white blouse and long black skirt as she sat at her desk.
She was reading an email sent to her from a researcher she had hired to do research for her at the Vatican Archives.
The researcher had come across a document written by a 4th Century Assyrian Catholic priest.
In the document, the priest recounted a legend told to him by the townspeople of the city of Palmyra.
According to the legend, Saint Michael the Archangel was having a fierce battle with the demons Baalshamin, Aglibol and Malakbel in the vicinity of Palmyra in the year 17 of Our Lord.
When he had vanquished the demons, he bound them within image statues on a carved relief within the Temple of Baalshamin in the City of Palmyra.
Said Michael, "Thou art now bound and imprisoned within the very images of yourselves that you command people to worship."
Qonzilqointec looked over at a newspaper headline on how the ISIS Islamic State had just blown up the Temple of Baalshamin in Palmyra.
The Aztec vampire princess then tapped into her friend Renfield R. Renfield's hacked feed of ISIS video broadcasts that the shapeshifting hamster/human Chief of Security and Intelligence Gathering for the London based billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set used to keep tabs on the militant Islamist terrorist group.
As she watched the Temple being blown up on her computer screen, the explosion was soon followed by a huge desert sandstorm blowing across the sands of the desert outside Palmyra.
In an apartment below her, a tenant watched an episode of that old James Cameron produced TV show Dark Angel.
Within her own living room, the TV was tuned to a documentary on the Presidency of George W. Bush the architect of the Iraq War.
As Qonzilqointec watched the huge desert sandstorm flowing from the explosive blasts of the Temple of Baalshamin in Palmyra, the words of U.S. President #43 George W. Bush from his 1st inaugural speech echoed through the living room, "Do you not think an angel rides in the whirlwind and directs this storm?".
To be continued.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday August 24th
2015.
Sent from my iPhone
Monday, August 31, 2015
Monday, August 24, 2015
Palmyra: A Poem
Palmyra: A Poem
Once known as the Pearl of the Desert
it has now become a pearl of great price
and that price is blood.
Its name Palmyra means City of Palms
after those lovely beautiful trees that provide food, sustenance and shade to humanity
now palms covered in blood
raise their fists in fury
fists carrying 5 Fingers of Death.
Palmyra was an oasis 130 miles north-east of Damascus
now no longer an oasis of life
but a citadel of death.
The sands of the desert turn red with blood
and the blue of the sky
retreats to the darkness of night
The greenery that once was Palmyra
overshadowed by the blackness of hate.
-A poem written by Christopher
Monday August 24th 2015.
Once known as the Pearl of the Desert
it has now become a pearl of great price
and that price is blood.
Its name Palmyra means City of Palms
after those lovely beautiful trees that provide food, sustenance and shade to humanity
now palms covered in blood
raise their fists in fury
fists carrying 5 Fingers of Death.
Palmyra was an oasis 130 miles north-east of Damascus
now no longer an oasis of life
but a citadel of death.
The sands of the desert turn red with blood
and the blue of the sky
retreats to the darkness of night
The greenery that once was Palmyra
overshadowed by the blackness of hate.
-A poem written by Christopher
Monday August 24th 2015.
Friday, August 21, 2015
Renfield Still Seeing Stars On Trek
Renfield Still Seeing Stars On Trek
Renfield R. Renfield was still busy bitching to Amadeus Emanon about the fact that a few nights earlier, he was having an extremely pleasant dream about being in a Turkish steam bath with three vivacious female porn stars when suddenly Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster entered his dream and entered the Turkish steam bath wearing a firefighter heat protection suit specially designed for lobsters and pinched him on the rear end with his lobster claws to get him out of the steam bath.
"Why would Michelangelo do that?" Amadeus asked as he dipped three Turkish Delight candies into some tangy and spicy shrimp cocktail sauce and ate them.
"Because I was to go to another space/time dimension to locate the whereabouts of some AI cybrid psychic cyborg they call the Black Dragon Master," Renfield blew steam through his ears setting off the smoke alarm in the living room of the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set's colossal London mansion.
"And did you find the Black Dragon Master?" Amadeus was grateful for the ceiling sprinkler's sudden downpour of water as it cooled off the extremely hot and spicy taste of his Cajun/Mexican/Thai/Korean Barbeque Lobster Sandwich that he was eating.
"Yes, I found him in an Irish brothel in Dublin," Renfield seemed to recall rather fondly.
"As opposed to an Irish brothel in Beijing," Amadeus downed a two litre bottle of water.
The mansion's butler and valet Athelstan appeared in the living room wearing a post-nuclear apocalypse radioactive protection firefighter suit and carrying a hose to put out the fire.
"That's all right, Athelstan," Amadeus waved him off, "there's really no fire."
Athelstan left the room swearing in ancient Egyptian a language he was learning in an on-line educational course in an effort to better understand the words his boss and master Set mumbled in his sleep in his sarcophagus.
"I hear those AI cybrid psychic cyborgs are able to communicate telepathically," Amadeus cracked open his fortune cookie.
"This one had temporarily lost his ability to communicate telepathically after he had used his long forgotten sense of taste to study and research the remnants of an ancient beer brewery in Bavaria that had apparently been frequented by a pair of drunken otters back in the early 21st Century," Renfield explained.
"Isn't that our own time?" Amadeus checked the date on his new Apple watch.
"Yes, but it was ancient history to this AI cybrid psychic cyborg in the future," Renfield played with his Ancient Macedonian sword that had once belonged to Alexander The Great.
"So how did he communicate with you?" Amadeus used his iPhone to order more Chinese take-out food.
"He spoke to me in the most god-awful voice," Renfield shuddered and shivered, "the most sinister voice I ever encountered."
"Did he sound like Arnold Schwarzenegger the killer robot from the future in The Terminator?" Amadeus tried his best Austrian accent.
"Worse," Renfield swallowed from his bottle of 21-year-old Port and was grateful that he wasn't reading any humourous blog posts on the Net at that moment, "he sounded like a cross between Arnold Schwarzenegger and Sylvester Stallone and a Transylvanian transvestite transexual cross-dresser."
"Sounds like the Rocky Horror Picture Show all over again," Amadeus spilled rice all over the floor.
"Well I certainly am not doing the fucking Time Warp again," Renfield recalled that aspect of his dream with sheer terror.
"What happened?" Amadeus got down on his knees to pick up the rice
"As soon as Mr. Sulu hit warp speed on the U.S.S. Enterprise to return us to our own space/time dimension, I was jilted forward with such velocity that my testicles were actually transported right up to the back molars of my mouth," Renfield recalled with some trepidation, "I could have become the first person in recorded history to give myself my own blow jobs."
"Well," Amadeus noted, "from that pic of Ron Jeremy you had left frozen on your computer screen a few nights ago before you went to bed to have that dream, I think he could easily give himself his own blow jobs judging from what I saw."
To be continued.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday August 14th
2015.
Sent from my iPhone
Renfield R. Renfield was still busy bitching to Amadeus Emanon about the fact that a few nights earlier, he was having an extremely pleasant dream about being in a Turkish steam bath with three vivacious female porn stars when suddenly Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster entered his dream and entered the Turkish steam bath wearing a firefighter heat protection suit specially designed for lobsters and pinched him on the rear end with his lobster claws to get him out of the steam bath.
"Why would Michelangelo do that?" Amadeus asked as he dipped three Turkish Delight candies into some tangy and spicy shrimp cocktail sauce and ate them.
"Because I was to go to another space/time dimension to locate the whereabouts of some AI cybrid psychic cyborg they call the Black Dragon Master," Renfield blew steam through his ears setting off the smoke alarm in the living room of the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set's colossal London mansion.
"And did you find the Black Dragon Master?" Amadeus was grateful for the ceiling sprinkler's sudden downpour of water as it cooled off the extremely hot and spicy taste of his Cajun/Mexican/Thai/Korean Barbeque Lobster Sandwich that he was eating.
"Yes, I found him in an Irish brothel in Dublin," Renfield seemed to recall rather fondly.
"As opposed to an Irish brothel in Beijing," Amadeus downed a two litre bottle of water.
The mansion's butler and valet Athelstan appeared in the living room wearing a post-nuclear apocalypse radioactive protection firefighter suit and carrying a hose to put out the fire.
"That's all right, Athelstan," Amadeus waved him off, "there's really no fire."
Athelstan left the room swearing in ancient Egyptian a language he was learning in an on-line educational course in an effort to better understand the words his boss and master Set mumbled in his sleep in his sarcophagus.
"I hear those AI cybrid psychic cyborgs are able to communicate telepathically," Amadeus cracked open his fortune cookie.
"This one had temporarily lost his ability to communicate telepathically after he had used his long forgotten sense of taste to study and research the remnants of an ancient beer brewery in Bavaria that had apparently been frequented by a pair of drunken otters back in the early 21st Century," Renfield explained.
"Isn't that our own time?" Amadeus checked the date on his new Apple watch.
"Yes, but it was ancient history to this AI cybrid psychic cyborg in the future," Renfield played with his Ancient Macedonian sword that had once belonged to Alexander The Great.
"So how did he communicate with you?" Amadeus used his iPhone to order more Chinese take-out food.
"He spoke to me in the most god-awful voice," Renfield shuddered and shivered, "the most sinister voice I ever encountered."
"Did he sound like Arnold Schwarzenegger the killer robot from the future in The Terminator?" Amadeus tried his best Austrian accent.
"Worse," Renfield swallowed from his bottle of 21-year-old Port and was grateful that he wasn't reading any humourous blog posts on the Net at that moment, "he sounded like a cross between Arnold Schwarzenegger and Sylvester Stallone and a Transylvanian transvestite transexual cross-dresser."
"Sounds like the Rocky Horror Picture Show all over again," Amadeus spilled rice all over the floor.
"Well I certainly am not doing the fucking Time Warp again," Renfield recalled that aspect of his dream with sheer terror.
"What happened?" Amadeus got down on his knees to pick up the rice
"As soon as Mr. Sulu hit warp speed on the U.S.S. Enterprise to return us to our own space/time dimension, I was jilted forward with such velocity that my testicles were actually transported right up to the back molars of my mouth," Renfield recalled with some trepidation, "I could have become the first person in recorded history to give myself my own blow jobs."
"Well," Amadeus noted, "from that pic of Ron Jeremy you had left frozen on your computer screen a few nights ago before you went to bed to have that dream, I think he could easily give himself his own blow jobs judging from what I saw."
To be continued.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday August 14th
2015.
Sent from my iPhone
Tuesday, August 18, 2015
Kraken Skatin' In Tel Aviv
Kraken Skatin' In Tel Aviv
The cyborg octopus Kraken who called himself Napoleon VI (he had been Italian sanity challenged scientist Dr. Poseidon Prometheus prior to uploading his consciousness into the body of the cyborg/octopus he had prepared in his lab) stepped on to the shore of Tel Aviv, Israel.
Medusa (the former gorgon who had finally got rid of her snaky hairstyle thanks to Dr. Cadbury Rocher's robotic barber that he had invented) walked on water and then on to the shore wearing a beautiful aquamarine blue evening dress.
"Jesus Christ!" shouted an American Southern Baptist minister who was suntanning on the beach, "do you see that beautiful woman who can walk on water?".
As the Baptist minister wrestled with himself over the most pressing theological question on his mind at the moment- whether or not masturbation was a sin- he failed to take notice of the Kraken who was helping himself to an 8 armsload of kosher hot dogs from a kosher hot dogs vendor on the beach.
The protesting kosher hots dog vendor found himself lifted and thrown into the water by one of the Kraken's robotic metallic hook tentacles.
"What a pain in the ass!" The vendor shouted as the salt water licked the wounds of the spot where the metallic hooked tentacles had grabbed him.
Having eaten and then belched and then scratching his stomach (thankful that he no longer had to wear a belt), the Kraken headed off the beach and off in the direction of downtown Tel Aviv.
"Where are you going?" Medusa floated in the air alongside him.
"Finding myself a skateboard park," said the Kraken, "I want to learn how to skateboard."
"Okay," said Medusa, "I hope you don't mind if I spend some time shopping in Tel Aviv's fashion district."
"No, go ahead," the Kraken shrugged his tentacles.
Unlike the former Bruce Jenner, Napoleon VI was one guy who didn't really enjoy shopping for women's clothing.
Napoleon VI had decided while doing the backstroke across the Mediterranean to go to Tel Aviv to learn to skateboard.
The reason? He felt compelled to go to the Temple Mount in Jerusalem for some reason.
An inner voice told him that there was a cavern underneath the Temple Mount that led to an underground sea deep under the mountain.
This underground sea stretched far and wide and connected with the currently underwater Garden of Eden at the head of the Persian Gulf where the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers flow into the sea.
The Kraken resolved to go to Jerusalem, go up the Temple Mount, find the underground cavern leading to the underground sea, swim to the undersea Garden of Eden, strangle the Cherubim sentinels with his robotic metallic hooked tentacles, and use the memory of his martial arts skills to use his 8 arms to do battle with the flaming sword that turned every which way while guarding the Tree of Life.
He would then eat the fruit of the Tree of Life so that he could live forever.
A back-up plan just on the off-chance that the Transhumanist scientific theories he subscribed to that he could make himself immortal by uploading his consciousness into a cyborg/ biological creature hybrid turned out to be wrong.
Of course for a great scientific genius like himself, he knew that was virtually impossible.
Still that one question about ethics in the practice of science on his final year of Undergraduate exams at Cambridge University had really tripped him up.
It blew his chances of getting a perfect score on that test.
So he realized it was better to be safe than dead.
Hence his desire to use the Jerusalem Temple Mount underground corridor to use the underground sea to reach the underwater Garden of Eden and eat of the fruit of the Tree of Life so he could live forever.
Just as California mass murderer Charles Manson believed that the Beatles' song Helter Skelter was a prophecy of a coming race war in the United States (which may finally be coming true in 2015 thanks to trigger happy cops), so the Kraken Napoleon VI believed that the Beatles' song An Octopus' Garden In The Shade was a prophecy of his (the Kraken's) finding the Garden of Eden under the sea.
So what did any of this have to do with his desire to learn to skateboard?
Well, the thought occurred to him that when he landed on the beaches of Tel Aviv, people might become suspicious if they noticed an 8 armed octopus with robotic metallic hooks on its tentacles walk from Tel Aviv to the Temple Mount in Jerusalem.
They probably wouldn't be as suspicious of Medusa now that she no longer sported snakes for curls in her hair.
Of course Medusa being a witch did have the power to glide inches above water and inches above the ground.
Still most Israelis would probably just think she was a woman who had successfully mastered Maharishi Mahesh Yogi's Transcendental Meditation technique of yogic flying, the Kraken reflected, as the Beatles song The Fool On The Hill played from the radio of a Tel Aviv Chinese grocery store he passed on the street.
After all if a rock and roll slut like Madonna could claim to be a practitioner of Kabbalah, then surely an ex-Gorgon could be accepted as a yogic flying adept?
As for himself, the Kraken Napoleon VI figured that if he skateboarded all the way from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem's Temple Mount, he wouldn't be mistaken for such an oddity.
The Kraken found a Tel Aviv skateboard park.
The park was instantly cleared of hundreds of skateboarders for some reason when the 8 armed giant cyborg octopus Kraken made his appearance on the concrete.
One long haired heavy metal singer headbanger looking skateboarder who had fallen off his skateboard when the Kraken made his appearance was still lying dazed on the pavement when Napoleon VI pointed one of his cyborg hooked tentacle arms at him, "You."
"Please," the skateboarder pleaded, "I gave at the office."
"And I gave at the sexually transmitted diseases clinic when I was human," the Kraken shook his head, "I want you to teach me how to skateboard."
One thing the skateboarder had learned in his young life was when an 8 armed octopus with metallic robotic hooks on his tentacles asks you to teach him how to skateboard, you don't argue.
Within a couple of hours, the cyborg octopus Kraken had turned into a master skateboarder the same way an expert fisherman who spends his nights alone on a fishing boat turns into a master baiter.
Having completed his lesson, the Kraken grabbed the young headbanger's skateboard and thanking him for both the lesson and the skateboard, he doffed his Napoleon Bonaparte style hat to him and bid him adieu.
"You're welcome," the young skateboarder supposed he should be grateful that he got away with his life intact but still, he reflected, that had been a darn expensive skateboard.
A Hezbollah suicide bomber (who had arrived in Tel Aviv clandestinely by sea on the orders of Barack Obama's new bosom bum buddies the despotic mullahs of Iran) blew himself up prematurely when he saw the 8 armed cyborg octopus Kraken with metallic robotic hooks on his tentacles skate by on his skateboard that bore the image of reggae singer Bob Marley.
The Islamist terrorist was thus the only casualty of his premature detonation.
The skateboarding Kraken caught up with the beautiful Medusa just as she was leaving one of Tel Aviv's most exclusive ladies' fashion stores.
She was carrying dozens of shopping bags.
"Here carry these for me, will you," she threw the shopping bags into the Kraken's 8 arms as she started to glide above the ground.
"Me?" The Kraken almost fell off his skateboard under the weight of all those shopping bags.
"Well," Medusa reached into her Gucci purse and brought out a compact mirror and hairbrush and started brushing her lovely snakeless hair, "you've got 8 arms, I've only got two."
"How am I suppose to maneuver on this skateboard carrying all these bags all the way to the Temple Mount in Jerusalem?" The Kraken demanded to know.
"I'm sure you'll find a way to manage," Medusa pressed her fingers to her lips in thoughtful contemplation, "I wonder if I should pick up a few extra pairs of pantyhose?".
"I hope we don't get spotted by any other Krakens on the way there," Napoleon VI sighed, "otherwise they're going to think I'm a real sissy."
To be continued.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
during the period
August 1st to 17th
2015.
Sent from my iPhone
The cyborg octopus Kraken who called himself Napoleon VI (he had been Italian sanity challenged scientist Dr. Poseidon Prometheus prior to uploading his consciousness into the body of the cyborg/octopus he had prepared in his lab) stepped on to the shore of Tel Aviv, Israel.
Medusa (the former gorgon who had finally got rid of her snaky hairstyle thanks to Dr. Cadbury Rocher's robotic barber that he had invented) walked on water and then on to the shore wearing a beautiful aquamarine blue evening dress.
"Jesus Christ!" shouted an American Southern Baptist minister who was suntanning on the beach, "do you see that beautiful woman who can walk on water?".
As the Baptist minister wrestled with himself over the most pressing theological question on his mind at the moment- whether or not masturbation was a sin- he failed to take notice of the Kraken who was helping himself to an 8 armsload of kosher hot dogs from a kosher hot dogs vendor on the beach.
The protesting kosher hots dog vendor found himself lifted and thrown into the water by one of the Kraken's robotic metallic hook tentacles.
"What a pain in the ass!" The vendor shouted as the salt water licked the wounds of the spot where the metallic hooked tentacles had grabbed him.
Having eaten and then belched and then scratching his stomach (thankful that he no longer had to wear a belt), the Kraken headed off the beach and off in the direction of downtown Tel Aviv.
"Where are you going?" Medusa floated in the air alongside him.
"Finding myself a skateboard park," said the Kraken, "I want to learn how to skateboard."
"Okay," said Medusa, "I hope you don't mind if I spend some time shopping in Tel Aviv's fashion district."
"No, go ahead," the Kraken shrugged his tentacles.
Unlike the former Bruce Jenner, Napoleon VI was one guy who didn't really enjoy shopping for women's clothing.
Napoleon VI had decided while doing the backstroke across the Mediterranean to go to Tel Aviv to learn to skateboard.
The reason? He felt compelled to go to the Temple Mount in Jerusalem for some reason.
An inner voice told him that there was a cavern underneath the Temple Mount that led to an underground sea deep under the mountain.
This underground sea stretched far and wide and connected with the currently underwater Garden of Eden at the head of the Persian Gulf where the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers flow into the sea.
The Kraken resolved to go to Jerusalem, go up the Temple Mount, find the underground cavern leading to the underground sea, swim to the undersea Garden of Eden, strangle the Cherubim sentinels with his robotic metallic hooked tentacles, and use the memory of his martial arts skills to use his 8 arms to do battle with the flaming sword that turned every which way while guarding the Tree of Life.
He would then eat the fruit of the Tree of Life so that he could live forever.
A back-up plan just on the off-chance that the Transhumanist scientific theories he subscribed to that he could make himself immortal by uploading his consciousness into a cyborg/ biological creature hybrid turned out to be wrong.
Of course for a great scientific genius like himself, he knew that was virtually impossible.
Still that one question about ethics in the practice of science on his final year of Undergraduate exams at Cambridge University had really tripped him up.
It blew his chances of getting a perfect score on that test.
So he realized it was better to be safe than dead.
Hence his desire to use the Jerusalem Temple Mount underground corridor to use the underground sea to reach the underwater Garden of Eden and eat of the fruit of the Tree of Life so he could live forever.
Just as California mass murderer Charles Manson believed that the Beatles' song Helter Skelter was a prophecy of a coming race war in the United States (which may finally be coming true in 2015 thanks to trigger happy cops), so the Kraken Napoleon VI believed that the Beatles' song An Octopus' Garden In The Shade was a prophecy of his (the Kraken's) finding the Garden of Eden under the sea.
So what did any of this have to do with his desire to learn to skateboard?
Well, the thought occurred to him that when he landed on the beaches of Tel Aviv, people might become suspicious if they noticed an 8 armed octopus with robotic metallic hooks on its tentacles walk from Tel Aviv to the Temple Mount in Jerusalem.
They probably wouldn't be as suspicious of Medusa now that she no longer sported snakes for curls in her hair.
Of course Medusa being a witch did have the power to glide inches above water and inches above the ground.
Still most Israelis would probably just think she was a woman who had successfully mastered Maharishi Mahesh Yogi's Transcendental Meditation technique of yogic flying, the Kraken reflected, as the Beatles song The Fool On The Hill played from the radio of a Tel Aviv Chinese grocery store he passed on the street.
After all if a rock and roll slut like Madonna could claim to be a practitioner of Kabbalah, then surely an ex-Gorgon could be accepted as a yogic flying adept?
As for himself, the Kraken Napoleon VI figured that if he skateboarded all the way from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem's Temple Mount, he wouldn't be mistaken for such an oddity.
The Kraken found a Tel Aviv skateboard park.
The park was instantly cleared of hundreds of skateboarders for some reason when the 8 armed giant cyborg octopus Kraken made his appearance on the concrete.
One long haired heavy metal singer headbanger looking skateboarder who had fallen off his skateboard when the Kraken made his appearance was still lying dazed on the pavement when Napoleon VI pointed one of his cyborg hooked tentacle arms at him, "You."
"Please," the skateboarder pleaded, "I gave at the office."
"And I gave at the sexually transmitted diseases clinic when I was human," the Kraken shook his head, "I want you to teach me how to skateboard."
One thing the skateboarder had learned in his young life was when an 8 armed octopus with metallic robotic hooks on his tentacles asks you to teach him how to skateboard, you don't argue.
Within a couple of hours, the cyborg octopus Kraken had turned into a master skateboarder the same way an expert fisherman who spends his nights alone on a fishing boat turns into a master baiter.
Having completed his lesson, the Kraken grabbed the young headbanger's skateboard and thanking him for both the lesson and the skateboard, he doffed his Napoleon Bonaparte style hat to him and bid him adieu.
"You're welcome," the young skateboarder supposed he should be grateful that he got away with his life intact but still, he reflected, that had been a darn expensive skateboard.
A Hezbollah suicide bomber (who had arrived in Tel Aviv clandestinely by sea on the orders of Barack Obama's new bosom bum buddies the despotic mullahs of Iran) blew himself up prematurely when he saw the 8 armed cyborg octopus Kraken with metallic robotic hooks on his tentacles skate by on his skateboard that bore the image of reggae singer Bob Marley.
The Islamist terrorist was thus the only casualty of his premature detonation.
The skateboarding Kraken caught up with the beautiful Medusa just as she was leaving one of Tel Aviv's most exclusive ladies' fashion stores.
She was carrying dozens of shopping bags.
"Here carry these for me, will you," she threw the shopping bags into the Kraken's 8 arms as she started to glide above the ground.
"Me?" The Kraken almost fell off his skateboard under the weight of all those shopping bags.
"Well," Medusa reached into her Gucci purse and brought out a compact mirror and hairbrush and started brushing her lovely snakeless hair, "you've got 8 arms, I've only got two."
"How am I suppose to maneuver on this skateboard carrying all these bags all the way to the Temple Mount in Jerusalem?" The Kraken demanded to know.
"I'm sure you'll find a way to manage," Medusa pressed her fingers to her lips in thoughtful contemplation, "I wonder if I should pick up a few extra pairs of pantyhose?".
"I hope we don't get spotted by any other Krakens on the way there," Napoleon VI sighed, "otherwise they're going to think I'm a real sissy."
To be continued.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
during the period
August 1st to 17th
2015.
Sent from my iPhone
Thursday, August 13, 2015
Jekyll and Hyde: Shadows Come To Light - A Haiku
Jekyll and Hyde: Shadows Come To Light - A Haiku
Henry hides dark self
When Edward comes out to play
Then there's Hell to pay
Henry hides dark self
When Edward comes out to play
Then there's Hell to pay
Tuesday, August 11, 2015
Amadeus' Dream of Three Bruces
Amadeus' Dream of Three Bruces
Despite Black Dragon Society conspiracy theorist Daniel Hyperion Sturm's warnings about not using the Internet before bedtime, Amadeus Emanon had foolishly done so.
And as a result, he was having weird dreams.
Though of course not as weird as Renfield in the bedroom adjacent across the hall who likewise had been using the Internet before bedtime and was now dreaming about being in a Turkish steam bath with porn stars Akira Lane, Nicole Oring and Mika Tan.
Amadeus was dreaming that he and Renfield were sitting in the living room listening to BBC World News on the radio.
BBC Announcer: And those were the words of Miss Caitlyn Jenner, formerly Mr. Bruce Jenner, christening the new Disney cruise ship The Goddess Cybele... In other news, Caitlyn Jenner's daughter Kylie Jenner has apparently adopted a pet rabbit and named it Bruce.
Amadeus: Wow. I wonder what Sigmund Freud would have to say about that?
Renfield (downing a bottle of Kraken black rum): It might have been more ominous if she had named the rabbit Elektra or Orestes.
BBC Announcer: This bulletin just in... Kylie Jenner has taken her pet rabbit Bruce to see a New Age veterinary guru in Beverly Hills who claims she has the power to communicate telepathically with animals. After silently communicating with the gray rabbit Bruce, New Age guru Miss Kellog S. Flakes said that Bruce had told her that he was really a female rabbit trapped in a male body and that he wanted to undergo veterinary transgender therapy, become a female rabbit, change his/her name to Caitlyn and become the Playboy bunny he/she always desired to be...
Renfield (spewing the Kraken black rum out of his mouth to the goldfish tank on the other side of the room making the goldfish look a lot happier): Good God.
BBC Announcer: Closer to home here in London, the ghost of Scotland's extremely late King Robert the Bruce spoke to reporters while being channeled through Carnaby Street spiritist gypsy medium Dulcinea Lucia...
Voice of Scotland's Robert The Bruce (speaking in a thick Scottish brogue while being channeled through Dulcinea Lucia) : Well as you know, we Scots in our day (although there's nothing wee about us) used to wear kilts much of the time so nobody could have possibly guessed that I was in fact a cross-dresser... a female trapped in a male body. If William Wallace had known, he'd have probably personally impaled his braveheart on Edward I's English sword...
BBC Announcer: Robert the Bruce added that from henceforth, he desires to be known as Roberta the Caitlyn...
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday August 11th
2015.
Sent from my iPhone
Despite Black Dragon Society conspiracy theorist Daniel Hyperion Sturm's warnings about not using the Internet before bedtime, Amadeus Emanon had foolishly done so.
And as a result, he was having weird dreams.
Though of course not as weird as Renfield in the bedroom adjacent across the hall who likewise had been using the Internet before bedtime and was now dreaming about being in a Turkish steam bath with porn stars Akira Lane, Nicole Oring and Mika Tan.
Amadeus was dreaming that he and Renfield were sitting in the living room listening to BBC World News on the radio.
BBC Announcer: And those were the words of Miss Caitlyn Jenner, formerly Mr. Bruce Jenner, christening the new Disney cruise ship The Goddess Cybele... In other news, Caitlyn Jenner's daughter Kylie Jenner has apparently adopted a pet rabbit and named it Bruce.
Amadeus: Wow. I wonder what Sigmund Freud would have to say about that?
Renfield (downing a bottle of Kraken black rum): It might have been more ominous if she had named the rabbit Elektra or Orestes.
BBC Announcer: This bulletin just in... Kylie Jenner has taken her pet rabbit Bruce to see a New Age veterinary guru in Beverly Hills who claims she has the power to communicate telepathically with animals. After silently communicating with the gray rabbit Bruce, New Age guru Miss Kellog S. Flakes said that Bruce had told her that he was really a female rabbit trapped in a male body and that he wanted to undergo veterinary transgender therapy, become a female rabbit, change his/her name to Caitlyn and become the Playboy bunny he/she always desired to be...
Renfield (spewing the Kraken black rum out of his mouth to the goldfish tank on the other side of the room making the goldfish look a lot happier): Good God.
BBC Announcer: Closer to home here in London, the ghost of Scotland's extremely late King Robert the Bruce spoke to reporters while being channeled through Carnaby Street spiritist gypsy medium Dulcinea Lucia...
Voice of Scotland's Robert The Bruce (speaking in a thick Scottish brogue while being channeled through Dulcinea Lucia) : Well as you know, we Scots in our day (although there's nothing wee about us) used to wear kilts much of the time so nobody could have possibly guessed that I was in fact a cross-dresser... a female trapped in a male body. If William Wallace had known, he'd have probably personally impaled his braveheart on Edward I's English sword...
BBC Announcer: Robert the Bruce added that from henceforth, he desires to be known as Roberta the Caitlyn...
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday August 11th
2015.
Sent from my iPhone
Friday, August 7, 2015
Renfield's Annoyingly Bad Joke
Renfield's Annoyingly Bad Joke
Renfield R. Renfield and Amadeus Emanon were sitting at the kitchen table having just finished a meal of steak, mashed potatoes and gravy.
Renfield belched loudly in succession without ever once saying "Excuse me" which was his usual post-dinner commentary on the state of the world.
On the table was a coconut cream pie for dessert later when their meals had been fully digested.
After belching, Renfield leaned back in his chair, put his feet up on the table and put his thumbs under his suspenders (for he was feeling in a Larry King fashion kind of mood today).
"You know," Renfield grinned as he picked his teeth with his toothpick that he had carved in the shape of a Faberge micro egg sized minuscule miniature banjo, "I've just thought up my own joke."
"Oh," Amadeus grimaced for Renfield coming up with his own joke never ended well.
"Yes," Renfield belched again for full dramatic effect, "would you like to hear it?".
"You'll tell it to me anyways," Amadeus sighed.
"Here it is," Renfield twiddled his thumbs under his suspenders, "how does a lioness get her cubs to behave?".
"How does a lioness get her cubs to behave?" Amadeus pondered the question for an infinitely shorter space of time than Pythagoras pondered his theorem, "I have absolutely no idea."
"She says to them," Renfield grinned, "if you don't stop misbehaving, I'm going to take you to see the dentist."
Amadeus buried his head in his hands.
"Bwahahahahaha," Renfield laughed in annoyingly Norman Newmanesque fashion at his own joke.
Amadeus picked up the cream pie on the table and shoved it into Renfield's face.
To be continued.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday August 7th
2015.
Sent from my iPhone
Renfield R. Renfield and Amadeus Emanon were sitting at the kitchen table having just finished a meal of steak, mashed potatoes and gravy.
Renfield belched loudly in succession without ever once saying "Excuse me" which was his usual post-dinner commentary on the state of the world.
On the table was a coconut cream pie for dessert later when their meals had been fully digested.
After belching, Renfield leaned back in his chair, put his feet up on the table and put his thumbs under his suspenders (for he was feeling in a Larry King fashion kind of mood today).
"You know," Renfield grinned as he picked his teeth with his toothpick that he had carved in the shape of a Faberge micro egg sized minuscule miniature banjo, "I've just thought up my own joke."
"Oh," Amadeus grimaced for Renfield coming up with his own joke never ended well.
"Yes," Renfield belched again for full dramatic effect, "would you like to hear it?".
"You'll tell it to me anyways," Amadeus sighed.
"Here it is," Renfield twiddled his thumbs under his suspenders, "how does a lioness get her cubs to behave?".
"How does a lioness get her cubs to behave?" Amadeus pondered the question for an infinitely shorter space of time than Pythagoras pondered his theorem, "I have absolutely no idea."
"She says to them," Renfield grinned, "if you don't stop misbehaving, I'm going to take you to see the dentist."
Amadeus buried his head in his hands.
"Bwahahahahaha," Renfield laughed in annoyingly Norman Newmanesque fashion at his own joke.
Amadeus picked up the cream pie on the table and shoved it into Renfield's face.
To be continued.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday August 7th
2015.
Sent from my iPhone
Wednesday, August 5, 2015
Dulcinea Lucia's Dream of Caesar Augustus
Dulcinea Lucia's Dream of Caesar Augustus
To sleep, perchance to dream was Hamlet's wish
before Death was served to Denmark's Royal Family on a dish.
In London in the year 2015
63rd in the reign of the current Queen
The calendar of the year had now moved to the month of August
like Marlon Brando's moonlit tea house but I digress
And so on this hot steamy August night
as Bavarian steaks succumbed to dog bite
Dulcinea Lucia was finding it hard to sleep
She even failed at counting sheep
This lovely beautiful gypsy
alluring and sexy
who passed Pan Goatee's test for feminine artistry
tossed and turned like the waves of the sea
no such cooling relief in London's dry docks- a pity!
She finally got up and went to the shower
where her body inhaled the water like bee does pollen on a flower
She was now all wet
like a mermaid in the net
She did not bother to dry herself off
She fell on the bed, wet and nude, and said, "Mazel Tov."
The incubus of dreams mounted her like a descending dove
bringing her dreams and visions from muses above.
She dreamed of the statue called Augustus of Prima Porta
Was it a weird bizarre dream for one to have? Sorta.
The statue was found in 1863
in a classical villa in Italy
It was found at the Villa of Livia at Prima Porta near Rome
so some distance from Saint Peter's Dome
The villa belonged to Caesar Augustus' third wife Livia Drusilla
a woman who lived before the invention of the birth control pill-a
which would have helped her nymphomaniac stepdaughter some
whose adultery certainly would have topped that of a Kardashian bum.
The Augustus of Prima Porta is now found in the Vatican Museums
a place no longer frequented by Irish Liams
banned for drinking way too much pints of Guinness
when they should have been tending to curator business.
Dulcinea in her dream noticed the statue come to life
Back in her day, it would have frightened Livia his wife
for there were rumours that Livia had bumped her husband off
historians ask- was it poisoned figs that did him in or just a bad cough?
The statue walked off its pedestal
which shocked a visitor from Istanbul
Said Augustus- this is my month, it's August
and I see urbi et orbi have gone to rust
So I've decided to come back
and give imperial rule another crack.
The small Cupid at Augustus' feet
found Emperor's coming to life again rather neat
since both claimed descent from Venus
the goddess who aroused Paris' penis,
Cupid shouted after Augustus, hey big brother, wait for me!
And the dolphin, on which Cupid rode, swam away to the sea.
-A narrative poem
and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday August 2nd
2015.
Sent from my iPhone
To sleep, perchance to dream was Hamlet's wish
before Death was served to Denmark's Royal Family on a dish.
In London in the year 2015
63rd in the reign of the current Queen
The calendar of the year had now moved to the month of August
like Marlon Brando's moonlit tea house but I digress
And so on this hot steamy August night
as Bavarian steaks succumbed to dog bite
Dulcinea Lucia was finding it hard to sleep
She even failed at counting sheep
This lovely beautiful gypsy
alluring and sexy
who passed Pan Goatee's test for feminine artistry
tossed and turned like the waves of the sea
no such cooling relief in London's dry docks- a pity!
She finally got up and went to the shower
where her body inhaled the water like bee does pollen on a flower
She was now all wet
like a mermaid in the net
She did not bother to dry herself off
She fell on the bed, wet and nude, and said, "Mazel Tov."
The incubus of dreams mounted her like a descending dove
bringing her dreams and visions from muses above.
She dreamed of the statue called Augustus of Prima Porta
Was it a weird bizarre dream for one to have? Sorta.
The statue was found in 1863
in a classical villa in Italy
It was found at the Villa of Livia at Prima Porta near Rome
so some distance from Saint Peter's Dome
The villa belonged to Caesar Augustus' third wife Livia Drusilla
a woman who lived before the invention of the birth control pill-a
which would have helped her nymphomaniac stepdaughter some
whose adultery certainly would have topped that of a Kardashian bum.
The Augustus of Prima Porta is now found in the Vatican Museums
a place no longer frequented by Irish Liams
banned for drinking way too much pints of Guinness
when they should have been tending to curator business.
Dulcinea in her dream noticed the statue come to life
Back in her day, it would have frightened Livia his wife
for there were rumours that Livia had bumped her husband off
historians ask- was it poisoned figs that did him in or just a bad cough?
The statue walked off its pedestal
which shocked a visitor from Istanbul
Said Augustus- this is my month, it's August
and I see urbi et orbi have gone to rust
So I've decided to come back
and give imperial rule another crack.
The small Cupid at Augustus' feet
found Emperor's coming to life again rather neat
since both claimed descent from Venus
the goddess who aroused Paris' penis,
Cupid shouted after Augustus, hey big brother, wait for me!
And the dolphin, on which Cupid rode, swam away to the sea.
-A narrative poem
and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday August 2nd
2015.
Sent from my iPhone
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)