Sunday, July 3, 2011

A VAMPIRE WHORE AND A DEAD FRENCH KNIGHT SPEAK THEIR MIND

this is minnie. I wanna tell you some more stuff about me and that headliner girl, the one who came into town to do a week at the 'troc,' the trocadero burlesque house where I worked. but some carriage trade type french fella is already blowin' his smoke all up in that wilkravitz guy's brain, so he ain't got no room for me right now. I would type this out myself, but I don't know shit about them buck rogers communicating machines. you know, them 'computer' gadgets. they gimme the heebie-geebies. all I have to do is just look at one and it's like I got worms in my oat meal or something. maybe I'll be able to smear you up with the rest of the tittie-lating story tomorrow? right now, I'm sitting on a bench near penn's landing, in center city, philadelphia, eyeballin' a bunch a drunk, outta-town tourists here for the fourth a july hoo-haa. one a them is startin' to look a little bit, lip-smackin' tasty. smells like liquid bacon, mixed with honey-glazed tavern ham. you know, human beings taste just like pig meat. that is a fact. go ahead, stop a cannibal on the street sometime (what, you think hannibal lechter is unique or something?) and ask him. you'll find out. oh, one more thing. you know all them fake ben franklins they got prancin' 'round this city for the tourists? well the one schmoozin' a bunch in from atlanta outside pat's steaks (cheese steaks) in south philly, is the real one. just in case you do not know what I am talkin' about, google (I do know some terms) vampirewonderland and the anti-enchantment-bureau. he looks pretty good for about three hundred and five years old too. and no, he ain't a vampire. we cover the whole waterfront, if you know what I mean. vampires (like me) are just part of the story. I am telling you...you gotta keep up. there's a year's worth of episodes and shit up here for you to read. actually, johnny jump up is my favorite. even I turn around and trot back the other way when I spot him. look, I gotta go. that 'ye olde knight,' frenchie-la-rue guy wants a talk.....

Is that vampire-whore wench done yet? Well, if you're hearing me, then I suppose she is. That Andalucian, Spanish Jew, Jonathon, or Tomas, or whatever he calls himself is off somewhere with his consort, Sarah. They are busy attempting to recruit others (vampires and the like) into their world-wide salvation scheme. I believe they're back with Renate (his vampiric grandmother) and an unexplainably resurrected John Lennon. I am told he enjoys showing off his bullet holes. Lucky he wasn't beheaded. that, could prove rather distasteful and to borrow from the present day jargon...would tend to turn most people off.

So you know that I entered Jerusalem as a vampire. Believe me when I say you can pick up more in the average caravanserai than just bedbugs. At first, the French and Italian forces used me much like a 'golem.'  Regular readers of this tale will be familiar with that word. So, at least, 'Jonathon' and I have that much in common. A bit later, after falling in with a certain high-born Muslim faction, I drifted into the service of S'allah-din himself. That's when I first became a slave  to the hookah. You know how we vampires covet fine aromas? And although most of my victims were drawn from the ranks of deserving, evil-doers, I was never-the-less quite willing to 'cull' the occasional spice, or inscense merchant when necessary. Later, as I became adept at creating 'familiars,' such excesses were no longer seemly, though the guilt still plagues me to this very night....Please excuse me...I must stop now....the drama of the Holy City commands it......Adieu...........

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