Saturday, November 6, 2010

The Book of Sarah

S 'me again, the, hell, I don't know what I am. I'm just here. but, yeah, call me the disembodied spirit. At least we're all used to that. OK, so those of you who keep up are wondering how I can possibly download the scene where Bob goes berserker on Barbra and helps her flip her lid. Well, then you are forgetting who you're dealing with. We eternal presences can flit around Creation with the staccato speed of an Andalusian (Tomas' old 'stomping' ground) flamenco dancer. Human please... do you doubt me?So pay attention, 'cause this is how we do it. Weak seams, we squeeze through weak seams. The Infinite Known Universes are full of them. Nobody takes  pride in their work anymore. So I slip out of this salmon run and into the next and BAM, I am doing the backstroke in a parallel universe. Actually, the place is hardly any different from that kennel you all are stuck in. OK, so their Liz Taylor stayed with their Eddie Fisher until the very end. Their Colts stayed in Baltimore. And Rome never completely fell, shrunk a little, but never fell. You should see all those stylish Italians in their Prada togas zipping around the Amalfi Coast on those cool, little vespas. If I had hands and a genuine booty,  I'd get me one of those. OK, back to Bob and how I got him on U Tube. In this eternal episode of The Honeymooners, Barbra had a hook-up with Skype, I think they call it.  Her lap top was turned on and the film was rolling. I don't know who pushed all the right buttons. I figure the cat did it. And the rest, as they say, is history. Only now I have a convenient,  copy on a micro-disc or some little piece of mundane-human-gadget- shit. And after I arrange things so it instantaneously combusts into existence right by the left elbow of that wilkravitz person, he will plug it in, go tap, tap, tap and BOOM!! Presenting the first, bonifide vampire domestic murder on  the internet. Damn, it's had sevenhundred and fifty thousand hits already. SEE BOB GO NUTS!! SEE THE HIDEOUS, FERAL SNARL!!. SEE THE TINY, SHARP, LETHAL FANGS!! SEE A WRINKLED, NAZI, BITCH'S HEAD SHOOT OFF UP INTO THE AIR!! SEE THE WHOLE THING IN GLORIOUS HIGH DEFINITION!! IT'S TRUE!! IT'S TRUE!! IT'S TRUE!! (photographic and video experts have already verified that). The pay off? Goths, neo-goths, sorority girl wiccans, Trekkers, International Brides of Barnabas Collins Inc., and every other kind of crackless crack head  they got running around on this planet (and some from off it) has made a bee line to Olde Philadelphia in an effort to join the club.  Our real home-grown vampires can now go sashaying 'round the city with impunity, because they stand out about as much as a bunch of cowboys at The Calgary Stampede. Look! There goes that TV van from SyFy! Oooh, hope I get a producer's credit! But all this media attention is causing the Shaky Hand Man to keep a lid on it. And Sarah has a plan to rescue Annie. Whoa! That girl fom The Vampire Diaries just walked by. Get a load of her ass!!

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