Index

 

Fairy Tales & Other Murders (A little deranged reading by Arthur Burns, my unmedicated yet highly intoxicated Alter Ego. This is my newest experimental book project.
I believe in liberating literature from it;s constraints and straigh jackets. So I hope you will enjoy the musings, rants and rambles from the twisted mind of my alter ego - Mr. Arthur Burns profligate libertine and purveyor of promised promiscuity.
Just click and turn the pages to fanatasy, humorous horror and lots of pissed off fairy tale characters

 

CHAPTERS

One - When Fairy Tales Attack 

Two - Alice & The Milk Carton Kids 

Three - Howdy Doody: Killer Marionette 

Four - Rosemarys Baby Meets The Son of Sam 

Five - Murder on the Yellow Brick Road 

Six - The Peter Pan Syndrome 

Seven - Mickey Mouse Gets Stoned 

Eight - Elvis as Moses 

Nine - Who Killed Mr. Ed 

Ten - The Beaver Cleaver Murders

Eleven - Wonder Woman Bikini Waxed Super Hero

Twelve - Catwoman: Leather In the Morning

Thirteen - The Real Betty Boop

Fourteen - Feilx the Cat Meets Julie Newmar

Fifteen - Scarface Snow White

Sixteen - Vikings, Cajuns & Accordians

Seventeen - Extreme Dickens

Eighteen - Election Erection

Nineteen - The Day Got Whacked

Twenty - Tuba Nation Tuba Ligation

Twenty One - Bagpipes and Monica Lewinsky

Tweny Two - Show Us Your Tartan Nessie

Chapter One - When Fairy Tales Attack

 

In the lexicon of the Fairy Tale Utopian Kingdom all stories begin to begat a pregnant life lesson by seeding the garden of imagination with the obligatory “once upon a time” which is in reality, merely wordsmithing foreplay of things hit and juicy to come in the form of Humpty Dumptys and Jacks and Jills. Usually there is a happy start along the fairy tale journey, but in the end tragedy strikes where you least expect it. Hell, the first milk carton kids were Hansel and Gretel.

 

The purveyors of perversity and the “dark” world of the fairy tale had to be the Brothers Grimm, the Koch brothers of 19th Century gloom and doom or Grimm and Grimmer without a glimmer of redemptive respite from all the evils that evolve in their fairy tales as in the telling they weave a Miss Muffet spiderweb of deceit and in some cases downright deadly.

 

Not all was Grimm however, take Little Red Riding Hood, please!!! This one has it all. Pedophilia, cannibalism, beastiality and a romp with a transvestite not to mention the killing of a wolf that would bring tears to the eyes of animal rights activists. It was originally written by Charles Perrault in 1697 to entertain the royal pains in the ass of the French Court, probably the court of Louie, Louie, me gotta go..yeah yeah yeah yeah...Entertainment? For Christ sake in the original tale Red eds p in the sack with the wolf!!! Damn, I can’t wait for squeamish sequel.

 

The Grimms also wrote a version and there have been many other knockoffs. Hey a transvestite wolf is all the rage and was the Ru Paul of the fairy tale kingdom and I can see an updated version with feather boa’s and sexy pumps and fishnet stockings with a cast from any show on the Bravo Network. Flouncing, bouncing and prancing proudly and flamboyantly across the television screen brought to you by super absorbent Tampons. “We’re the absorbent sheep in wolf’s clothing”

 

The Old Lady in the Shoe is another lesson to be learned. Put a cork in it Lady!!!! All those kids, no food in the house obviously as the food stamps haven’t arrived yet and here is still plenty of meth on hand to not give a damn. Plenty of time to clean up before Child Welfare arrives for a spot check.

 

Jack and Jill. Trespassing on private property stealing water and he falls down and breaks his crown, and damn it..he’s not insured..and he’s a vet who had his bennies cut and now has to live on the streets collecting returnable cans and rooting through Humpty Dumpty dumpsters for some some black bird pies.

 

That brings us to the Milk Carton Kids, Hansel and Gretel the Justin Bieber and Selena Gomez of fairy tale land. They are lured into the wicked witch’s (notice they are always a “wicked” witch and no referred to as a “bad ass” bitch?) home to be tossed into a oven (in my updated version the bitch witch in actuality would be Alice B. Toklas a mixing them with liberal potent portions of Acapulco Gold for a party with The Grateful Dead backstage at the Fillmore.

 

Written by the Grimm’s in 1812, it has a domineering wife who wants to desert the kids because the family can’t afford to feed them. The submissive pussy whipped dad agrees and the kids left in the woods lost and alone...The story has had many incarnations including an opera in 1893 written by...get this...ENGELBERT HUMPERDINCK! I kid you not..if I were kidding I would have said Monte Rock the III!!!!

 

Let this all be lesson to you...always check Miss Muffet’s tuffet (it’s a cheap thrill like copping a quick feel) and beware of beanstalks that appear out of nowhere (this ain’t the Sixties so you don’t really see it) as for Little Red Riding Hood...she’s not just for breakfast anymore!!

 

 

Chapter Two - Alice in Wonderland Amber Alert

 

 

Unlike the film "Debbie Does Dallas," Lewis Carroll's 1865 children's classic fantasy about Cheshire Cats and Mad Hatters,Wonderland Does Alice! In this fantastic tale a young girl falls down the rabbit hole of puberty (euphemism for loosing her virginity according to Dr. Marino) and lands in a fantasia world that would have been Main Street USA to Timothy Leary. The imagery and characters have a certain psychedelic panache surrounding them and has been immortalized in Jefferson Airplanes, "White Rabbit" and has become part and parcel of the LSD counter culture of the tie-dyed Sixties and Haight Ashbury. Having lived there myself for years, I can attest to the fact that one pill does make you larger and one pill makes you small.

 

"Alice in Wonderland" is just one in a long line of storybook children that would end up as a missing child on a milk carton with a full Amber Alert going viral on the web. Other "fantasy" candidates who would be placed on the promiscuous pedestal hit parade of abduction along with the Elizabeth Smarts would be Little Red Riding Hood who is captured by a ravenous transvestite wolf but manages to escape by being saved by the John Walsh Woodsman of the woods, a real "America's Most Wanted" moment.

 

Then we have Dorothy of Kansas, whisked away to the land of Oz against her will and falls into the fast company as a street walking gingham clad prostitute on the famed Yellow Brick Road which in fantasy land is the Mustang Ranch of the Horse of a Different Color. She manages to kill her pimp, the wicked witch of the north, and begins to wear ruby red slippers and fishnet stockings as she entertains the troops with her Flying Monkey Act. Snow White, obviously a blonde, is held captive by a gang of gang banging dwarfs for whom she is forced to take turns turning tricks as a Hi Ho!

 

Peter Pan leads young boys to Never Never Land for a life in the rough trades. Hansel and Gretel would share a milk carton as missing in action and are almost eaten alive by Hannibal Lechter's lecherous aunt. She wanted to put them in the oven and bake them with the brownies she was heating up, in fact a whole troop of them as an appetizer after a dinner of Girl Scouts and their cookies!

 

Children always seem to go missing in fairy tales and fantasy stories like Alice in Wonderland and we insist of reading about them to scare the hell out of our own kids. "Don't talk to strangers" ...yeah Alice, that Mad Hatter is about as strange as they come..."Just Say NO to Drugs" and here is your DARE t-shirt Alice...so what does she do...spends time with a hookah smoking caterpillar. Promiscuous? Of course she was...she only got larger so those below could peek up her gingham and gander. Watch out...that rabbit is looking for a hole! So the next time you read one of this stories to your own children...don't be surprised if some of them want to wear lipstick and enter a beauty contest or wants to go to Bangkok to be a teenage pole dancer. So save those milk cartons...you never know when they might become part of your family album.

 

"Alice in Wonderland" was written by an Englishman named Charles Lutwidge Dodgson who adopted the pen name Lewis Carroll. If you think Alice's adventures where tripped out, the story of Lewis Carroll himself who wrote the book for ten year old Alice Lidell, daughter of a friend of Carroll's. He not only wrote it for her but named the lead character after her. Soon Carroll fell down his own personal emotionally disturbed rabbit hole and spent his time photographing young Alice Liddell and some of her other 10 year old friends in the nude frolicking with one another (yes full frontal photos exist as proof in his letters and memorabilia) He soon developed a crush on young Alice and went so far as proposing marriage when he turned 33 to her when she turned 11. It was his way of having her chase his mad hatter hard on so he could put a rabbit into a different kind of hole... Alice! We'll get back to Carroll's obsession with young Alice and his burning desire to experience carnal fire in the hole later, but for now..drop a hit of acid or mescaline and turn on and tune into Wonderland...don't forget to bring the hookah and the condoms Amigos, along with Alice's training bra!

 

Carroll told the tale to young Alice as a bedtime story, and as a little girl she was so enamored with the story of a bored little girl who goes off in search of adventure that she asked him to write it down for her so she could read it over and over to herself. I guess even she noticed his preoccupation with her. "Is that a mad hatter in your pants, or are you happy to see me?" He wrote it down, took Alice for a boat ride and read it to her. As he read it aloud he made changes...the dreaded re-write process. When the final manuscript was completed he found an illustrator for the book and gave it to Alice to read and approve. Alice it turns out loved it. especially where added the Cheshire cat and Tea Party segment as an afterthought and submitted it for publishing.

 

Carroll was a teacher, so his internal radar homing device zeroed in on the fact that these unspoiled minds were ripe for lecture and ideas that you could fill the empty cranial cups with. He was by all accounts an interesting man and made education exciting to young students who were mesmerized by his presentations. He was a boffo hit SRO in the classroom, but on the stage of reality he had his failings. In the case of the marriage proposal to 11-year-old Alice Lidell that turned out to be the final straw and the cause of the break in friendship between Carroll and the Lidell family. Gee..Do you think? As for the nude photos of Alice and her friends that Carroll took, it turns out that in Victorian times, there was this prevailing "child cult of innocence" that was acceptable and nude photos of children were an expression of the pure innocence they possessed. Explain that to John Walsh and the authorities today.

 

Carroll didn't limit his romps with Romper Room juveniles. His appetite was diverse in nature and he also hungered for teen and adult females and preferred the company of married ones although single legal females did not escape his roving eye. In his relationships with children though...those would generally end when they turned 14 years old. Over the hill by Wonderland standards no doubt. Just retain all this information the next time you hand your child a copy of Alice in Wonderland...and to think schools ban books like War and Peace and books by Mark Twain. At least in Twain, Tom Sawyer didn't open Becky Thatchers hatch to get a piece of ass. Now Huckleberry Finn might have attempted it but he was too busy being a pirate and only had pillage and plunder on his mind.

 

Carroll had quite the imagination redlining in overdrive, but it did turn out a curious piece of literature that had a plethora of amazing and bizarre characters. Mock Turtles, flamingos as croquet mallets, a dope smoking caterpillar and everywhere signs...Eat Me! Drink Me! but none that said Bite Me or Fuck You. Alice manages concurrently to grow in size and shrink in size (how cool is that?) and it even has a courtroom scene with stolen tarts stolen by a Knave of Hearts who is about to loose his head to the Queen of Hearts. My favorite characters are the Mad Hatter, the Caterpillar (must have been the hookah that hooked me) and the Cheshire cat sporting that wonderful Lenny Bruce shit eating grin as if he just got back from Disneyland and had a corn dog and ate Mickey on a stick whole in one giant gulp.

 

Alice was not abducted to some colorful land of wizards and witches by a gang of roving gypsies or a tornado with a personal grudge against people from Kansas. In fact, Alice left home on her own, hormones raging no doubt, and decides to step through her own pubescent looking glass in search of adventure and literary promiscuity. As she is sitting on a river bank with her sister, they are obviously passing the hash pipe back and forth as she happens to notice a full clothed talking rabbit with a pocket watch race by them. I know a few of us out there have experienced the same thing or something similar while in a drug induced alter state ourselves. Of course she pursues the rabbit down a rabbit hole free falling all the way or according once again by Dr. Marino, she is coming down off her high. Confused she ends up in a hallway with more doors to open then Monty Hall has. Or even the Halls of Montezuma.

 

She finds a key, unlocks one that leads to a garden, probably of marijuana but she is too big, in fact she is a giant and can't reach the ganja so has to go gonzo to get the goods. She sees a bottle that says Drink Me, probably a bottle of skid row booze from a Bukowsk bum wine stash. She empties the bottle with the style and grace of Tom Waits on downers, and damned if she begins to shrink and her qualms are calmed by a handful of downers. The problem now is that she is too small to reach the key to the garden on the table high above now that she is the size of Thumbellina. Thankfully there is a piece of cake that says "Eat Me" on it...I've said that myself a time or two, both in anger on the street as well as passion in bed. I prefer the bedtime version.

 

She eventually gains entry to the Ninth Gate of Wonderland Hell and begins her trek with a pair of losers, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumber...and even listens to a lecture on William the Conqueror. Now I know that there is a dildo named William The Conqueor just as there is one named Steely Dan, not to be confused with the group of the same name...they named themselves after William Burroughs Steely Dan the Dildo...what does that say about their music?

 

Now it gets real Cheech and Chongy as she runs into a blue caterpillar with a hookah. The damn thing also talks and like any good pusher in a school yard offers her free samples of a mushroom guaranteed to get her blasted higher than a kite, while the other piece will bring her down to size. All this growing and shrinking has to be playing havoc with her tampon which doesn't shrink as does her body...especially during the shrink process ..she probably looks like a bomb pop on a stick. Or to the Mad Hatter as a sexy ice cream cone to whet his appetite.

 

Then there is the Cheshire Cat with the Lenny Bruce overdose on the toilet shit eating grin and the Queen of Hearts who in another life could be the lesbian madam of a bordello of young girls who are forced into sexual slavery with the battle cry of Off With Their Heads. You don't have to be Fellini to figure that one out. Eventually the Alice's purple hazed double dazed acid trip comes to an end and she is laying prone with a deck of giant cards falling on her in large enough to be parts of the Twin Towers collapsing in New York. At that very moment...Alice's sister wakes her up. Seems Alice had fallen asleep on the riverbank and the entire episode was no more than a dream that was obviously brought on by some left over brown acid from Woodstock..remember "Don't eat the brown acid, man...it's poison!"

 

Wonderland was no Woodstock, you can be certain of that. I've taken mucho acid in my time and saw the Space Needle in Seattle melt before my very blood shot eyes...I saw Haight Street lift up off the ground and fly into the air...and I even floated encased in a soap bubble over Golden Gate Park, but ,damned if I ever smoked a bowl with a blue caterpillar or did smack with a talking cat. I don't know what Alice was on but we would have paid any price for a hit of that shit...

 

The tale of Alice has been told over and over in film and animation from Disney to Depp...but given the proclivities of Lewis Carroll it't author I'm still waiting for the lost vault version directed by Roman Polanski and starring Nastasia Kinsky! Polanksi and Kinsky = Kinky!

 

Chapter Three - Howdy Doody Exposed

 

Of all the inhabitants of Doodyville...Boy Howdy had them all fooled. Looking as innocent as Ron Howard as Little Opium on the Andy Griffith show he hung out with degenerate clown named Clarabelle who never spoke but loved playing with his bicycle horn...he was a cross between Harpo Marx and John Wayne Gacy. Doody went missing one day...and soon went on a bizarre mass killing spree that eliminated his competition! The group called the Doody Family viciously carried out a carnival of carnage at the home of ventriloquist puppeteer Edgar Bergen. Howdy was living in Haight Ashbury at the time and started using acid and speed and hanging out with a perverse gang, we know today as the Doody-Manson Marionettes. Howdy was involved in the brutal slaying of famed dummy Charley McCarthy and others who were at the Bergen mansion one night. Edgar was out of town in Europe staying in Roman Polanski’s villa at the time fighting extradition on charges of unlawful sex acts with an underage hand puppet, Lambchop, When they arrived at the mansion the Doody Family was unaware that a party was going on and also in the house were hand puppets Kukla and Ollie ….all found beaten and stabbed and the few marionettes present had their strings cut, thereby rendering them helpless to defend themselves. Many speculated the whole,attack was set up by Kermit the Frog as he was jealous of the fact that Jerry Mahoney was getting more “hand puppet” from Miss Piggy than he was...

 

Later during the Summer of Puppet Love in San Francisco...Doody was also involved in the rape of Doodyville prom queen marionette Princess Summer Spring Winter Fall. Howdy had a real hardwood woody for her but she refused Howdy’s doody so he decided to wax his woody in her pinewood forest. At one point she did have a restraining order taken out on him but as you can see when a puppet has rape on it's little wooden head, his woody will win every time.

 

Sexually, Howdy was a bi-doody and had raped prison soap on a rope style Clarabelle the Clown who had also moved with him to the Haight working the streets as a rough trade clown hustler who hung out with the notorious Pennywise. In a relentless search for clues to Doody’s whereabouts, US Marshall, Buffalo Bob and his Peanut Gallery Posse closed in on Doody along with his new gang which included three circus performers and a mime who were engaged in a crime wave in clown costumes based on tip from a midget detective posing as a talking dummy to solve the murders at the Bergen Mansion.

 

Recently released government documents have revealed a plot formulated by the CIA proving that Doody also assassinated JFK with an Italian rifle he had purchased from notorious Italian international arms dealers Topo Gigio and Pinocchio. The buy was made in Hoboken, New Jersey and arranged by a mysterious figure in the underworld known only as Senor Wences. Doody escaped capture and was last seen in Detroit...around the same time Jimmy Hoffa disappeared. Many theories are floating around like a Pennywise balloon but most believe Hoffa’s body was disposed of at a construction site in the Sesame Street Industrial Park being developed by real estate tycoon Mr. Rogers on a beautiful day in the neighborhood.

 

I kid you not! Even I can't make up this stuff! Corn on Macabre stuff to be sure. So Hey kids...what time is it? It’s Howdy Doody time you little bastards

Chapter Four - Rosemary's Baby Meets Son of Sam

 

Startling information...regarding real estate and ancient burial grounds...bear in mind..(seriously) my Mom’s name was Rosemary and my Dad’s name was Sam so in effect I am Rosemary’s baby and the son of Sam. Weird but true.

 

If there’s anything I’ve learned from years of ingesting and digesting a smorgasbord of horror films it’s this...if you move from the city to a quaint Norman Rockwell village chances are you’ll be devoured by giant mutant spiders or you’ll end up hacking your family to death Amityville style then bury them in the local pet cemetery where they will rise again as the living dead with a retribution driven fuel injected mission of revenge.

 

If you move to mom and pop middle America, and have children...99% of the time they well end up demon possessed with spinning heads spewing language a drunken sailor or even drunker writer would wince at. The reason for all this...simple...the house you purchased, quit your cushy six figure city job for and uprooted your family for is buried atop an unknown ancient Indian burial ground….which means after your kid disappears into a television set you’ll need the help of a wise old Native American medicine man with much mojo at his disposal and perhaps a dwarf lady who says scary shit about demons in the voice of a 33 and a third munchkin played at 78 rpms.

 

The small rural areas also have plentiful pet cemeteries...once Muffy has punched her time card and expended her initial nine lives she can get a free pass and get a bonus life if buried in the obligatory forbidden area. However, cute little Muffy may come back as Catzilla and you become a two legged can of Happy Feast. Dogs are worse….if you’re not careful...buried in a or bitten by a bat in a hole in the ground, it can get as cranky as Cujo and will eat your kibble and bits. The rural houses of the unholy (Sorry Jimmy Page...had to use it) may result in a room full of flies with and an ominous voice telling you to “GET OUT”... the voice of the demon possessed Amityville Welcome Wagon. Soon phones will melt in your hands, unlike M and M’s that only melt in your mouth.

 

In Poltergeist, the little girl get sucked into a TV set...this would not have happened if they had a decent cable system. “Hello, Cox Cable..my little girl is stuck in a netherworld in your TV.” Pause after an operator takes your call…”We’re aware of that Sir. Plenty of kids are getting stuck in there today. Use your remote and go to the Sci Fi Channel...you’ll find her there...then on your VCR button mode….press eject. If that doesn’t work we can send a midget over tomorrow between 8 am and Midnight..will someone be there?”

 

Another tip...if you have a teenage daughter in High School and her name is Carrie...don’t let her go to the prom under an circumstances...and never let her babysit at a home next to the Michael Myers family...hide the Ginsu knives as well.

 

If you are planning a Torrence family mountain vacation make sure there are no axes around or twin girls in the hallway that like to ride in blood soaked elevators...and if your son has an imaginary friend located in his index finger...cut it off before you leave home…

 

One more thing...if traveling late at night and flickering neon sign says “Vacancy” at a run down motel and the desk clerk looks like Tony Perkins wearing a wig and shawl...head on the down the road….FAST!!

 

Chaper Five - Murder on the Yellow Brick Road

 

The Yellow Brick Road was paved with not good intentions, but, with tiny little horny people with tiny little hard-ons referred to as Munchkins - the people were called Munchkins, not the hard-ons.

 

The neighborhood also included a leering lesbian witch with a big ruby red one that passed the labia litmus test and was always cocked and locked, ready for any action packing adventure while ramping and camping it up in Oz; behemoth bags of opium; a heartless traumatized tin man;, a salacious brain dead straw man on medication and a libidinous lion with lustful leanings...all with cavorting carnal desires and misdirected sexual intentions to “do” training bra Dorothy who just one month prior started having her periods, or as she said in later interviews, “I went from tampons to tornadoes overnight, then I met these three cheese omelette weirdos. Disgusting, rusting and dusty. Foul mouthed midgets and hot to trot horny hags. It was like being back in Catholic school with everyone trying to get a peek up my skirt to see if gingham has a G-spot.”

 

Her road less traveled began after touchdown from a black and white tornado from the corn fields of the Rectangular state of Kansas to a technicolor tenderloin district of of the Ninth Gate of Family Entertainment Hell, or affectionately called Munchkinland, a neighborhood of hoodlums, gangsters and pimps all controlled by a crime syndicate of snarky syncophants known as the Lollipop Guild which made the notorious Westies mob of NYC look more like the singing Beastie Boys fighting for their right to party.

 

As Dorothy made landfall, she was approached by the Wicked Butch Bitch Witch of Brighton Beach who tries to enlist Dorothy into a life of prostitution and hypodermic needles. “Ever make it with a little person, my dear?” she is queried as the Wicked Butch lifts Dorothy’s gingham dress to get a peek, which piqued Dorothy’s long suppressed libido. “First it was the nuns, then a priest, a cross-eyed altar boy and now this shit” she screamed!

 

It was at this point that confusion ran rampant. Witnesses say Dorothy pulled a Ruger ,44 mag auto pistol from her garter and pumped 6 rounds into the hideous hag, screaming red faced and in a blind fury “MAKE MY DAY BUTCH!” Munchkins dove for cover, but, later as witnesses, many reported that they heard three shots being fired from the Yellow Brick Road Sassy Knoll. It was also reported (perhaps erroneously) by Brian Williams that Dorothy swiped the pair of ruby red pumps Butch was wearing at the time. NBC declined to comment. The ruby red pumps may have belonged to David Bowie at one time or another, but that is a spider from Mars of a different color.

 

After the gunsmoke cleared Dorothy was as dazed and confused as a Led Zeppelin song and kept calling for Auntie Em, Auntie Em when out of the clear blue a rather fetching witch known as Cabaret Dietrich, a real manly Marlene who was the dead Butch’s sister emerged. She was simply smashing with a fabulous fedora fetish and an unappeased appetite for corn fed farm girls. Ding dong the Butch was as dead as a doornail and Dietrich wondered what kind of a whack job would kill with a gun and not the obligatory rural black and white farmhouse! It was time for revenge and Dorothy was called to a sit-down by Dietrich and Munchkin Mafioso and was told she had to get out of Dodge by sundown and to return the ruby red pumps she kept as a kill trophy.

 

She promises, but, later in a dark dank beer joint she meets Glinda the Bukowski barfly who kept waving a swizzle stick she drunkenly referred to has her magic wand. She sees the enticing piece of jailbait enter the Yellow Brick Dive which was part of the truckstop complex where she plied her trade. Dorothy wanted a ride, to anywhere near Wichita, and Glinda was only too happy to take her for the ride of her life, but not to Wichita. Instead, Glinda runs a tab she never intends to pay buying the young girl a burger and a brew, (you don’t need I.D in fairytales!) Then she pumps her full of a few laced drinks, a snort of coke and soon Dorothy ends up in the sack with real hot “hey can I watch” Glinda. In exchange for her sexual favors Glinda offers Dorothy an old Sunoco road map with directions to a place called Oz where she can fence the pumps for a Greyhound ticket home.

 

However, all that glinders is not gold, Dietrich is sulking and lurking in the shadows and at one time had also claimed Glinda as one of her cabaret conquests! She bursts into the bedroom catching them in bed with there pants down, all the while screaming s stream of filth and threatening Dorothy with penetration by 100 Flying Monkey Dildos!

 

In her quest to escape her erotic escapade, she runs slam bang into a rusting bulk of a hulk of a Tinman who confesses he is actually the William Burroughs Steely Dan Dildo and by the simple act of squirting a little lubrication to him and to her, in appropriate places, they can be off , running and cumming to the races down that quarter mile estros fueled Yellow Brick Road dragstrip for that wonderful wiz jizz that was jazz.

 

Steely Dan takes Dorothy by the hand to a seedy back alley bar to meet some friends, two more losers, you know the kind that still haven’t scored at the mall by closing time.

 

The dive was loud and brassy and sassy.“I guess I’m not in Kansas anymore, Toto!” she screamed orgasmically. “Seems more like a jumpin’ jive juke joint in Harlem on a Saturday night…” It was a real Warhol experience. Dig the scarecrow dude with the day-glo jacket and velvet hat in the corner blasting powder up his nose with a lion doing Lenny Bruce imitations while finger poppin’ beatnik munchkins are flying higher than Judy Garland with an arm full of junkie juice. The scarecrow cat is howling like a Ginsberg ginsu knife slicing through the night, while the lion blushes as he touches himself in an impure manner..”forgive me father for I have sinned, but hot damn it felt good! And don’t tell me you don’t diddle under your cassock you perverted Cossack!”

 

The lion is cowardly inwardly and outwardly, and no longer king of the forrrressssttt he said in a loud Lahr voice. “I’m a queen now and no animal is safe!” So the tin dildo, the straw pimp and the lion with tender loins began to blaze a stairway to heaven in an opium field of dreams where they were greeted by a wizend old Chinese wizard dressed in a colorful hanfu with embroidred dragons and yes, Flying Monkeys!!! As the old Kong Fuzi confused them with more Confusion confusion handed them of them each an intricately carved pipe of curious dreams and vivid visions Dorothy realized she had come up against the gatekeeper of the Flying Monkey Dildos.

 

Fully loaded and Orientally disoriented they hit the road for Oz that lay just over yonder, ast least according to the magic talking Chinese Tao dog kown as Wild Blue pointing with his blue point tail to an obscenely beautiful twin towered structure glowing a brilliant pulsating emerald green, it was either OZ or Humboldt County in California, same thing Dorothy had managed to lift one of the flying monkey dildos for research purposes only. Gratifying self gratification or Newton’s Law of Self-Gratifying Gravity, what goes in must come out!

 

As they enered OZ they were taken to the Wizard himself who promised to grant them their wishes in exchange for the Ruby Red Pumps in Dorothy’s possession, aht being 9/10ths of the law. The Tin Man Steely Dan Dildo got perpetual lubrication, (batteries not included..he was a solar self charging unit, environmentally and vaginally friendly!) The Scarecrow Schizoid was given a lifetime supply of medication for not only him but all those others locked up inside his chaotic psychotic imagination. As for the Queen of the Forest, the Wizard gave a free sex change and a contract for a gig as a drag queen at the Peonie and Pansy Nightclub, the hot spot for female lionesse impersonators, in the nearby town of Long Wang on the Penis Peninsula. As for Dorothy?

 

She was granted a Greyhound bus ticket to Wichita and got to keep one of the Flying Monkey Electro Dildos. In the opium field in a haze she admitted later in Playgirl, “I had made it with the Tin Man Dildo all night long, both of su stoned to the bone and I must say, he was cocked and locked and loaded. A flying Money is fine for beginners but once you’ve had a Tin Man you never go back!”

 

So she said her goodbyes before hitting the highway..”I love you strawman, stay on your meds or you’ll end up with hypodermic needles of full tranqs in you, and if they lose one, well they’ll have to tear you apart as it’s hard to find a hypodermic needle in a haystack!” To Lionesse now going by the name of Roar Paul, “I know you will look even better with boobs than I do! So knock ‘em dead Babe!” and as she boarded the bus she remembered her night of erotic pleasure with the tin man dildo...she smile and said, “I’ll miss you MOIST of all!”

 

 

Chapter Six - Peter Pan Syndrome

 

The Pan legacy of angst laden juveniles who fend for themselves has all the makings of James Dean and Rebel Without a Cause. Dean was Pan and Sal Mineo was Tinkerbell in retrospect and yes, Natalie Wood was Wendy Darling and Buzz and the chicky run gang were Hook and Company. A leather jacketed pirates crew if ever there were Matey. The pan-demonium generated from this once a book, then Disneyfied film resulted in some classic cinema studies of psychotics from Lord of the Flies to the Lost Boys to Alex and his violence prone Droogies in A Clockwork Orange. In all cases, these are examples of a classic Pan Syndrome, just add pixie dust, mental illness, vampires and someone singin' in the rain, and you have all the ingredients.

 

Pan never grew up, nor had reason to. He had it made in Never Land wearing tights that showed off a lost boys lost bulge in a region we now know as the Sansa Belt Action Zone. Is that a Peter Pan in your pants or are you just playing with your tinkerbell? Pan never made it with the prom queen to my knowledge and life was more like the film "Boys in the Band" than "Boys That Were Banned" It was hilarious hermaphrodite homage at the very least and a gay bar in paradise at the most. Hey, it's 5 O'Clock Somewhere and happy hour is about to begin.

 

Peter Pan. Not a Bogart type by any stretch of the noir imagination. Not a tough Sam Spade character but more of a cross between a young Leo Dicaprio and Ru Paul type. He has been portrayed on screen in animated form as a boy, and in a movie version is portrayed by Mary Martin. Sort of a Mary Goes Lesbo portrayal which I never quite understood. It's like having Mickey Rourke play Barbarella (now that could be interesting!) In the ongoing story ine Pan fights a never ending battle against his arch foe Hook, and of course in the end prevails as good whips evils ass. Unlike most happy Disney films where animated characters die before our very eyes, Pan remains not only victorious and androgynous, but manages to live despite Disneys penchant for necrophiliac hijinx.

 

Then there is the classic Lord of the Flies based on a 1954 book by William Golding. A group of young kids end up on an uninhabited and uninhibited island following a nuclear disaster. Most of the young boys start off as gentle and socialized as River Phoenix in "Stand By Me" but soon degenerate into wild animals like denizens from the Ninth Gate of Hell, by the way, dig the title, Lord of the Flies, same thing those that know him refer to Satan himself so please let me introduce myself..sorry, the song just ran rampant through me head. The boys factionalize and the battle is on between conformity and individualism. One of those Red Scare things no doubt of Commies vs. Us paranoia scenarios of the early cold war 1950's. Soon they see begin to imagine an imaginary beast which turns out to be a pig and eventually gets beheaded by one of the juvies and it's head stuck on a stick into the ground so that tribute might be offered to it similar to giving King Kong a nubile white babe with pink nipples to fondle in his fortress of solitude, turning Fay Raye into a finger puppet, yes, use your own imagination, mine is busy right now with my own visual.

 

Cue the vampires Ah yes, Kiefer Sutherland and company ramp up the vamps and romp through the night sucking blood and racing motorcycles. Sounds like an evening in Detroit. The lead punk vamp, Kiefer, is called David. Now pay attention, his girlfriend was named Star. Star of David? All of a sudden the vampires are from Miami Beach! Then there is Michael. The archangel for all you Catholics? Maybe I'm reading too much into it, or writing too much into it is more like it, but couldn't resist. So stop writing and eat your maggots Michael.

 

We now turn our attention to "Clockwork Orange" a masterpiece of violence that takes violence for the sake of violence and violates all our precepts of what violence is all about. It's Kubrick after all and not Peckinpah, but gratuitous sex and violence permeate this fest of fetish as though it were the Fulton Fish Market in NYC on a hot windless August day. Now if it were a tuna odor, thats another story of Leave it to Beavers Estros. IN the end Alex gets his. All in all it's Peter Pan as Charles Manson. Love the eye make-p though and damned if I can find a pair of white pants to show off my Peter Pan in all its glory. Maybe if I start singing in the rain it will be noticed. If not then I'll become a lost boy vampire and feed only during menstruation periods..a lost boys breakfast of champions!

Chapter Seven - Mickey Mouse in Ganja Land

 

Ganjaland Jamaica: The Hap, Hap, Happiest Place on Earth!

 

Where else can you rock and roll on the worlds slowest but most intoxicating theme park ride. That's right, we're talking the Roach Clip Roller Coaster where it rocks you while you roll your own! It's all a part of the far out fun and like wow excitment of the New Ganjaland Themepark in Jamaica where ganja and good times are as normal as inhaling and exhaling.

 

Disney characters spring to life in this wonderland of weed including Reggae Mouse Mickey, Ganja Duck Donald and Voodoo Goofy! If you're looking for angel dust, don't be surprised if Whacked Out Tinkerbell doesn't divebomb you with a dimebag of hallucinogens as you begin your journey through a real three dimensional dementia of Fantastic Fantasia Fantasy in the tunnel of love with your plastic fantasic lover. The Bob Marley Mad Hatter Mansion is full of voodoo and magic as you step through the looking glass and bang a gong and hit a bong with the animated automatonic rasta singers.."oooo mon....oooo mon..." be sure to sing along as the gods must be crazy afterall!!!

 

Maryjane and Peter "Waterpipe" Pan take you on a journey where somebody speaks and you go into a dream as you float down the river on a ride that includes stoned pirates and alligators with carnivorous munchies in the fabled realm of Opiumland! Hap, hap, happy hopheads pop up out of the jungle on either side as the world famous Jim "Hempy" Hensons Marijuana Puppets do a real Jamaican jump up ceremony amidst the driving beat of drums and "oooo mon...oooo mon" punctuating the smoke filled air with enough cloud cover to give even a DEA agent a contact high. Speaking of DEA agents, don't forget to visit one of the areas favorite sections ...Marleyland where real live DEA agents try to bust you and plant evidence. It's a laugh a minute so be sure you use the live ammo you were issued with your admission tickets and as Ganja Mickey would say..."Ha Ha boys and girls...Go For the Head Shots!"

 

Another highlight of your visit will be the stage show put on by the Marleyteers. No mouse ears here gang, but rasta locks piled as high as that Led Zeppelin Stairway to Heaven. Whose the leader of the band...as plain as you can see....Marley Mon, Marley Mon, with a big ol' bag of weed! Eveybody sing along! Before you leave don't forget to pick up your very own custom made voodoo doll ..curse not included but guaranteed to work on that school bully who is driving you to suicide because you are as week and mentally unbalanced as they come. Stick a pin in it...toss it in the fire you just set in the gym, or put a bullet in it when you waste the rest of the kids in the cafeteria...it's fun..it's thrilling...it's deadly!

 

So tell mom and dad, "Hey Mom Mon, I wants to go to Disney Jamaica, you know, to get me head right and get down wit some voodoo and shrunken heads..." Remember..Walt Loves You...Walt Loves Weed....and you'll love stepping through the looking glass at Disneyland Jamaica where Rasta and Reggae Meet Cartoons and Weed!

 

 

Chapter Eight - Elvis as Moses

 

 

CB DeMille produced two versions of the “Ten Commandments” ...one in 1956 and the first on the pre-talkie silent era as well. We found a third version of the film, called the Top Ten Hits by Hal Wallis featuring Elvis Presley as Moses Presley and featured a boffo performance by a young sexy Ann Margret as a red hot Burning Bush! Elvis as Moses asks the Pharoah played by Ernest Borgnine to release his people from Betty Page bondage...at least those that wanted to. Different strokes of the whip for different folks.

 

He leads his people to the River Jordanaires after the Red Sea escapade where Elvis runs into a bevy of bikini wearing sheperd girls (“GIrls, Girls, Girls!” and “All Shook Up”) lwhen he runs into Noah’s Water Taxi Service. Noah played by Wilford Brimley, who looked old at birth, asks Elvis Moses if he needs a lift. Elvis Moses waves him on as David Copperfield parts the Red Sea.

Eventually he comes across Ann Margarets burning bush...use your own imagination on this one and spends an hour serenading it with songs like “Love Me Tender” She eventually gets a restraining order on him and he can’t approach her land o’ Goshen within 100 yards.

 

The film is full of special Elvis songs to make you swoon!!!! As he breaks into song while hitting on Ann Margarets burning bush he also breaks into a rousing rendition of “Hunka, Hunka, Burning Love”

 

As he leaves the palace banished to the wilderness of the desert, he does a fantastic choreographed version of “Walk Like an Egyptian” and “Hey, Judaism” (made popular later by the Beatles as “Hey Jude” to avoid a lawsuit) after approaching the pharaoh with “You Ain’t Nothing but a Hound Dog”

 

Soon they arrive at their destination and the Elvis Moses we know and love kicks butt with a dance filled “Viva Mt. Sinai” as he is given a stone engraved with Elvis’ Top Ten Hits.On top of charts and on top of the Mount. Elvis Moses leads his people to the promised land...Memphis and they all start recording at Sun Studios...free at last!!

 

This is an Elvis Moses Film every collection should have.

Chapter 9 - Who Killed Mr. Ed?

 

The Killing of Mr. Ed is right up there in the conspiracy hit parade of who killed Cock Robin and JFK! Was a simple drug overdose as in the case of Elvis and Lenny Bruce? Was it suicide or did an unscupulou...s veterinian administer the lethal dose as in the case of Michael Jackson? Was he killed by a jealous equine competitor? Many feel after reading the autopsy reports that it was a conspiracy involving everyone from Mr Friend Flicka to Trigger the Wonder Horse.

All the facts have become muddled over the years and one name keeps cropping up...Francis the Talking Mule who did have a grudge against Ed for decades. Was Mr. Ed killed by multiple tranquilizer shots...or as popular myth would have you believe by a single shot from a marksman with a syringe. The lone killer is thought to have been Francis but the mule never made it trial. Other equine witnesses have also died mysteriously just as they were supoened to testify to a Congressional Committee. Many think Francis was also killed by lethal injection before he could talk and spill the oats.

 

Mister Ed (real name Bamboo Harvester) you know Hollywood types...gotta have a catchy name, first appeared on television in 1961 and retired from show biz in 1966. Mr. Ed was all male..a real stallion, Francis the Talking Mule however was from Missouri and was a female mule named Molly. As a transvestite animal she was chastised by the rednecks and fled to Hollywood and there found a home in movies. Being able to talk was a blessing but also curse at the same time. Francis the Mules popularity waned and Mr. Ed rose to fame on television creating animosity between the two. They never spoke to each other again. In an interview with Trigger after Mr. Ed's mysterious death he is quoted as saying on Equine Entertainment Tonight..."Ed was a pal of mine and a true friend. I never got along with that crossdressin Francis as her voice was frightening to me..so deep she sounded more like Chill Wills than a woman!"

 

Then there is the Mysterious Mare who shared more than a stable with Mr. Ed during filming. Her name was Pumpkin and was Mr. Eds stand in and stunt double for those times when Mr. Ed was drying out from alcohol abuse or checked into the Betty Ford Horse Clinic for treatment of tranquilizer addiction. Pumpkin later appeared as a regular on Green Acres. Pumpkin is now dead too so the mystery went to the grave with her. Notice the correlation between her death and that of Marilyn Monroe. Flicka, Silver and Trigger all rushed to her side when they were notified of her overdose in the stable and authorities were not notified until the morning when she died peacefully in her sleep. Francis was not implicated in this death either but there were rumors that they had romantic rendevous in Nevada after checking into the Mustang Ranch Frequently seen with them on nights on the town were close friends Trigger and Buttermilk, Roy Rogers and Dale Evans horse. The Lone Ranger and Tonto would not give interviews, as Silver and Scout were also close associates. When the Equine Rat Pack would party hearty on oats and hay until all hours of the morning. There are also rumors of a menage a trois between Mr. Ed, Pumpkin and Mustang Sally. Ride Sally Ride...Giddy up you gelding you...you go girl....

 

Mr Ed died in 1970 in California. Allan Young, who played Wilber Post on the TV series was a close human companion of Ed and visited him frequently after the show ended. Mr. Ed (Bamboo Harvester) died from a tranquilizer administered in his stable in California while living with his trainer Lester Hilton. Hilton had an alibi as he claims he was out of town and a temporary care giver saw Mr. Ed rolling on the ground and adminsitered the tranquilizer for unknown reasons. Mr Ed died within hours. He was immediately cremated. Was Mr. Ed euthanized maliciously? An accident? A conspiracy? What about other mysterious deaths? such as Jimmie Hoffa, Martin Luther King, Rin Tin Tin and Lassie?

 

There have been as many Mr. Ed sightings as there have been of Elvis. Mr. Ed has been reported to be living in disguise in a rodeo as a horse clown. The truth may never be known as one by one..the participants have all died mysteriously before they could testify.

 

Francis never talked..too stubborn! Pumpkin never married, and Roy Rogers had Trigger stuffed. If we ever needed the truth we have to hear it from the horses mouth..Mr. Eds mouth to be exact...but now we can only speculate on who the horses ass it was that killed Mr. Ed.

Chapter 10 - The Beaver Cleaver Murders

 

They have finally solved the mystery of the disappearance of the entire Cleaver clan from TV Land. One minute Ward Cleaver was cleverly firing off thuderous rounds of inane wisdom faster than a semi-automatice Pez dispenser. Once regarded as the epitome of the perfect TV family, they just disappeared without a trace! Alien Abduction? Raped by the ratings? Speculation has been running rampant and rampaging as to the mystery behind the demise of this lovable nuclear family. Did Larry Mondello with his unending appetite eat the Cleavers in a feeding frenzy that would make a school of Amazon river pirhanas look like amateurs? Did the Charles Manson of polyester, Mike Brady and his Brady gang secretly destroy their competition?

 

Some schools of conspiracy thought blame Theodore "Beaver" Cleaver himself for the disappearance of his parents along with help from his brother Wally, teen age sex symbol who could never figure out women, who finally snapped after semesters of football brain injuries. Neither has been seen in years. The brothers had a falling out over a transsexual lover and it turned out to be Danny Bonaduce!

 

. June Cleaver's cleavage is also highly suspect as she was eventually caught entertaining Eddie Haskell and Lumpy Rutherford with lewd tassle dancing in a Billingsly thong and holding court in the Cleaver home with a riding crop and handcuffs. "Gosh Mrs Cleaver, what lovely cleavage you have" Eddie was heard to say on more than one ocassion.

 

Our reporters have tracked down this nefarious family. Ward is now a born-again preacher who talks in tongues in Tennessee and a practicing polygamist married to all the Brady Bunch Daughters who are all pregnant with his spawn, while June Cleaver ran a bordello using aging tv moms as hookers from Donna "Do Me" Reed to "Blow Job Mama Brady" and "Pussy Partridge" Eddie Haskell? What can you expect, he is a gay street hustler in Pomona while Lumpy Rutherford is a junkie living on borrowed time. A side note, when June Cleaver passed away, Beaver had her body taxidermied after seeing Psycho for the 12th time and kept her displayed on the TV set at the seedy motel he owns. He said he keeps her on the TV as she gets better reception than a pair of rabbit ears.

 

Wally committed suicide after therapy released his teenage memories of schtupping his own mom after school with copious amounts of simulated breast feedings, and Beaver is now living in Denmark and underwent a sex change and therapy that included penis removal and now has a real beaver of his own! So the next time you watch Leave it Beaver....and he drops his pants on camera...run for your life...This time beaver wants to get up close and personal with soap on a rope...Gosh Beav!!!!! It's time to whack the beaver!

 

 

Chapter 11 - Wonder Woman: Bikini Waxed Super Hero

 

 

Give a superhero babe a gorgeous set of super legs, a voluptuous expansive chest that is ready to explode in a volcanic eruption of heaving cleavage, then encase her ample shapely body in a skimpy costume that shows off her erection causing bikini wax look south of her border, and you have the makings of the eighth sexual wonder of the super world. Wonder Woman! Iconic beauty of the comic book kingdom who leaped from the comic book pages to the television screen in a single bound. She was portrayed by Lynda Carter as the super woman personification if ever there was one complete and replete with super powers, combat skills that would make a Navy Seal look like a wimp and a mastery of martial arts that Mr. Miyagi would be proud of. Not to mention a knock down drag out sexy rear-end that could only be described as Mounds of Joy and breasts that could double as two of the finest pinnacles of the Colorado Rockies, perfect for climbing to plant your flag on her mighty twin peaks.

 

Wonder Woman is the alter ego of Diana Prince, who as an Amazon warrior princess is better known as Princess Diana of Themyscira, which is probably located just west of the Isle of Lesbos near the town of Sappho, where Amazon on Amazon action is as popular a sporting event as Monday Night Football is to armchair quarterbacks. Her background in reality is based in true life characters involved in a sexual threesome affair that includes her comic book creator, William Marston. Her character development is based on Marston's two switch-hitter live-in girl friends, and because of this influence Wonder Woman became a sexy man-eater with super powers packing a pair of powerful bear trap thighs that can pack more thunder than Zeus! .

 

Marston by the way is the inventor of the polygraph, the ever popular lie detector, which became the forerunner of Wonder Woman's Lasso of Truth! Marston read comic books but felt they were lacking for changing times. He decided he wanted to create a superhero who used guile and brains over brawn. His live-in girlfriends were highly liberated for the times, the late 1930's and early 1940's and were also quite domineering of him which he seemed to enjoy as many men do. They told him in no uncertain terms to go ahead and do it, as it sounded like a good idea, but he was ordered by them to make the super hero a female...or else! He complied obediently with their wishes or demands depending on how you want to look at it. Marston sold the idea to All Star Comics and Wonder Woman came out of the three-some closet in 1941 as "Suprema" in the original story, but, it was changed at the last minute to "Wonder Woman" by the publisher. Marston in describing his new character wrote "Wonder Woman is the new woman who I believe should rule the world!" How appropriate that a submissive male should create a domineering super heroine that has stood the test of time and still rules with a iron fist in the world of iconic heroines! In a 1943 article he wrote he elaborated even further on her character. "Not even girls want to be girls so long as our feminine archetype lacks force, strength, and power. Girls now are not wanting to be to be tender, submissive, peace-loving as women are. The obvious remedy is to create a domineering feminine character with all the strength of Superman plus all the allure of a good and beautiful woman."

 

When Wonder Woman first appeared during WWII, she was one sexy weapon of democracy fighting Nazi's and fifth columnists on the battlefield abroad and on the home front. Hitler had more to fear then fear itself or even the Normandy Invasion. Wonder Woman was on the way packing super powers, a "lasso of truth" and a tiara projectile that could penetrate a German bunker deeper than a Wonder Woman dildo.. She was one hell of a vaginal V-2 rocket ready to blitzkrieg Berlin after a night of heavy drinking with the Hermann Goering Cabaret Crowd. In addition to fighting for democracy and later a platform of peace, she eventually fought evil home front super villains out to do her in. In time s the times they were a changing became an iconic symbol of women's liberation as a feminist warrior in the hymen heavy protest 1960's. Who says a feminist can't be sexy? Look at Gloria Steinhem, one time Playboy Bunny escaped from Hugh Hefner's Hutch and in the process had many a male drooling behind her sexy tail voting in favor of the ERA! Whatever it takes in love, war and politics, eh?

 

Wonder Woman.s costume alone was a light show of image and color and sexual innuendo. Her top was a brilliant hot red color with breasts encased in gold breastplates highlighting her two sizable pots of gold hidden beneath her rainbow of color. Her hot pants were a brilliant blue with a tempting field of stars that put the male libido in planetary orbit as he longed to go where no mere mortal man had gone before...except by invitation only, and then only as an Amazon captive!

 

When she first appeared in 1942 she wore a red top, white belt and star studded pants with red and gold go-go boots in an appeal to American patriotism. Eventually when the war was won, she sported skin tight shorts with her back exposed. Then in the dreaded Disco age of the 1970's she started wearing polyester jumpsuits, but eventually got back into that highly sought after bikini waxed swimsuit look. But by 1987 she was wearing a black leather biker babe outfit until it was changed once again to what we see today, a bit of color change but basically back to the sexy roots as body armor for the body of amour!

 

Now for the cream rising to the top. Lynda Carter. Words cannot describe how she has morphed into the absolute personification perfection of the character. She is and always will be Wonder Woman. She reigned supreme on the small screen from the 1975 - 1979 romancing the disco stone age with a sexuality loaded with sensuality and class. When she did her amazing spin action to transform into the Wonder Woman of our dreams we had a hard time keeping our hands out of our pants. There have also been animated series of WW and a new pilot for a TV show was shot in 2012 but nipped in the bud due to poor script development.

 

On a personal note, I worked with a young guy in radio in the midwest when I was Program Director of a radio station, he was the mid-day personality who wanted to BE Wonder Woman and in fact thought he was! I was going on vacation from the radio station to visit friends in San Francisco, when he asked me to buy him a Wonder Woman costume there if I could find one. Yes, I found one, and yes, I bought it for him, mainly as a joke, but when he showed up for his mid-day radio shift one afternoon spinning around in the very same costume...we all had the laugh of our lives. Not because of his affectation...but mainly....he ain't no Lynda Carter by a long shot! He did try to lasso me but missed! Now if that would have been Lynda Carter at the other end of the rope, I would have been lassoed and offered her a bikini wax myself!

Chapter 12 - Catwoman: I Love the Smell of Leather in the Morning

Catwoman the leather fetish pin-up princess of comic book pulp fiction is best known for having one hell of a sexy slinky figure encased in form fitting pants of lovely leather with a Mardi Gras black mask accenting her face while brandishing a leather domina whip to bring out the best of the beast in her with a purr-fect feline display of sensuous sex appeal and female domination. Was she always a pussycat? Not on your life, in fact, her resume is excitingly risque and frisky for our favorite femme fatale who exudes a scent of danger and feminity in one intoxicating pussy perfect package.

 

According to her diverse pedigree which can get pretty cat complicated, her dark, brooding and secretive background involves a stint as a jewel thief, a teenaged prostitute and a dominatrix under the mentorship of her predatory pimp who sold her for sex on the street and forced her to role play in domination activities! Early reports have her portrayed as an airline stewardess with amnesia, while another facet of this diamond career has her in an abusive relationship with a husband from hell who she escapes from!

 

The Catwoman character is the epitome of sexuality and when she made the transition from the comic book pages to the small screen as well as the silver screen to apease our quest for cinematic salivation we were not disappointed. She has been portrayed on television as the campy vamp by Ertha Kitt, Julie Newmar and Lee Merriweather, not to mention her big screen sisters, especially Halle Berry and Michelle Pfieffer who both look good in and out of leather pants.

 

Catwoman was known as Selina before she made Mr. Blackwells Best Vamp Look List, and was added to the DC Batman series by creator Bob Kane to add the twin appeals of zest and sex. She also lit the fire in Batmans cape as an early love interest probably to kill all those rumors of pedophilia regarding his questionable relationship with Robin the underaged Boy Wonder!) Catwoman rocked the batcave to it's very foundation and became a comic book fave rave with a feline strut so sensual and successful sexually that the Comic Book Code Censors censored her in the 1950's. Remember this was also the McCarthy Era where Commie witch hunts were raging in Washington with false accusations, the Cold War was full tilt boogie and Betty Page was just coming into her own! Catwoman in effect was too hot to handle, but, apparently was one hell of a frisky fondle! She was the cause of male masturbation with a wow and meow replacing in our minds eye the naked tribal women of National Geographics with her hot blooded leatherclad antics.

 

Bob Kane, Batman's creator, was an avid film fan growing up in the 1930's. He loved the silver screen and one actress in particular left an indelible impression on this impressionable youth. Kane fell head over heels, doing cartwheels in love with Jean Harlow the blonde bombshell of the 1930's. She to him personified the perfect woman. Sexy, independent, direct, and yes, once again...sexy! He decided Batman needed a love interest and by adding this heroine of perfect body proportions, the series would also attract a female audience to the comic books. In time she gained cult status of iconic proportions around the world and appeals to both genders. Hints of her bi-sexuality have abounded for years and that appeals to the gender bender fan base as well. I'm still waiting for Catwoman Does Batgirl with a a three speed Atomic Thruster.

 

Originally she was intended to be a love interest for Batman, however it morphed into a love-hate relationship oas the villianesse in her began to emerge from her cocoon. She made her first appearance in 1940 in Batman Comics #1, not a bad starting pole position in super hero publishing. She was known merely as "Cat" and works as a second story cat burglar when she is captured by Batman his lets his pants do the thinking for him and he lets her escape as his heart beats fast and he has a growing bat bulge in his pants for this goddess with stolen goods who manages to steal his heart, and she's not even encased in ass hugging leather yet! She is also captured and allowed to escape in Batman #2...seems to be a trend here. By Batman #3 she begins to appear wearing a fur mask, and escapes again...the plot thickens and the leather look begins to take shape...a shapely shape indeed with protruding breasts north of her equator and a wonderland of geography south of her border to be explored especially her frontal "cave"...he is Batman afterall!

 

In the original creation of her pussy persona, she was Selina, an airline stewardess who was knocked on the head during an airplane crash in the early versions and suffered from amnesia. Later, my comic book writing hero, Frank Miller who did the Sin City series in the 1980's revised her background and gave it a Frank Miller testesterone tune up in 1987 in his series Batman: Year One! Here she works for a pimp who beats her if she doesn't work the streets hard enough, and also forces her to wear leather and perform as a dominatrix for paying customers with a submissive nature. Eventually Selina's little sister, Maggie is also kidnapped by her pimp and forced into a life of prosititution as well. Bizarre enough yet? Wait there's more to it than that...Selina's sister is also a nun! Selina now starts to study martial arts and eventually kills their mutual pimp and both escape captivity.

 

Next up on the streets, Selina befriends a young runaway, Holly who idolizes Selina and is too young to be on the streets. Selina saves her and has her move in with her and Maggie ala Xena and Gabriella and a third party. If you've read the Sin City series or saw the movie you can create your own Cat visuals and insert whip here with a rough tough three-some to die for! Meanwhile back to our story, in an effort to make ends meet, Selina dons her leather costume she wore as a dominatrix and instead of pulling tricks begins a life of second story cat burglaries to make ends meet. Batman catches her and reforms her to a certain degree and she figures, if there is a Bat, why not a Cat? Taking it one step further in the late 80's in yet another incarnation, she is divorced from an abusive husband, and ends up marrying Bruce Wayne and gives birth to a daughter Helena (The Huntress) On other landmark appearance was in a Superman related comic, called Supermans Girlfriend: Lois Lane in 1966, which is probably where the lesbian relationship rumors began, and by the 1970's she actually commits her first and only murder!

 

It's no wonder she is ranked in the Top Ten of the 100 Comic Book Villians of All Time! Her comic books and guest appearances are highly collectible just as she is highly combustible sexually. On TV we got our first three dimensional introduction to this delicious vixen portrayed by three sexy vamps clad in leather ready to camp it up, and now on the silver screen, the leather goddesses have dominated the Batman series with sex appeal of a royal nature. She has a hint of bi-sexuality, lesbian tendencies and engages in feline animal role play similar to pony play, and has earned a living as a prostitute and a whip wielding dominatrix. Who the hell could ask for more? I love the smell of leather pants in the morning!!

Chapter 13 - The Real Betty Boop

 

When it comes to pure sexuality and carnal knowledge in cartoons, it's hard to beat the head or tail of Betty Boop. She has a sexy pouty mouth and south of her border was a land of tempting teasing thighs of thunder with legs that could unleash a libido of lighting thanks to the animators inclusion of the first mini-skirt 30 years ahead of it's time. Not only was she damn near bottomless, but, she also wore lacy garters and was known at times to prance around in a hula dancers grass skirt swaying and moving her undulating grass to the heat of a tropical beat while her coconut bra held the secrets to her cartoon sexual universe. Lets face it, she may have been a cartoon, but, secretly we agreed...she had one hell of a lovely set of coconuts firm and ripe for the picking.

 

Since her debut in 1930, Betty has become an iconic sexual symbol of femininity and female sexual freedom of expression well ahead of Womens Liberation. Her lierated labia was well oiled and well before we learned the abc's of the ERA.

 

She was a cartoon pinup during WWII where Betty made it clear...V was for Victory, and for Vagina! Her body and face adorn just as many t-shirts, mugs, mousepads and a host of other memorabilia items today as Marilyn Monroe. Betty Boop nostalgia keeps our libido in a constant overdrive. She has been portrayed in print and 'toons as a biker babe, a hula dancer, a chanteusse, and a cowgirl with one sexy cartoon ass that any cowboy would love to cowpoke and mount. Giddy Up Betty! There are even Betty Boop inflatable sex dolls for the ultimate Boop Boop De Boop experience in latex lovemaking.

 

Betty began her cartoon career and rocketship ride to stardom in 1930 in a cartoon called "Dizzy Dishes" and what a dish she was. She was featured in Max Fleischer's "Talkartoons" and also her own Betty Boop series of animated sensuality.

 

Before Betty "booped" she barked like a dog. Most animated characterizations of the day were parodies of famous entertainment stars. Betty was patterned after Helen Kane a singer and actress. However, and here it comes, Betty was portrayed as not only Helen Kane, but Helen Kane as a canine with the look of a French poodle with floppy ears! Not the sexiest image on the planet unless you really are a pet owner to the max. Eventually the poodle look disappeared in 1932 and Betty began to get shapely as she began to transform into a cartoon human with breasts, thighs, great behind and those famous floppy poodle ears were magically transformed into massive hoop earrings! Her "fur" became her signature hairdo, her ass was fully formed, legs shapely and eyelashes were as long as Route 66. The distinctive voice was provided by Mae Questel and Boop Boob De Boop became the Betty Battle Cry of the Pubic!

 

Betty in her original canine form was in heat and in love with her then boyfriend Bimbo the Dog long before Betty herself became the bimbo. Don't ask, it's complicated. In the 1931 cartoon, "Bimbo's Initiation" you have a group of cartoon sadists in a bizarre "fun house" of masturbatory Marquis de Sade fetish that Bimbo stumbles upon by mistake. It's a secret society of sadistic practices and the leader, a mysterious robed figure wants Bimbo to become a member which of course means undergoing strange initiation rites never fully explained but surely it must have hopefully involved a spanking or two for some over the top over the knee animated excitement. Eventually the robed leader, portrayed as a man, removes "his" costume and there instead is Betty Boop in her full Poodle canine form. Bimbo seeing this luscious creature is now hot to trot and ready to hump the first available leg and join the club. Meanwhile all the other members strip down and it's time to send in the Betty Clones! The room is full of Boop Look-a-likes! The real Betty and Bimbo now dance the night away and Bimbo offers Betty his bone as a token of his love. His bone? How Fellini can you get? It's probably the first cartoon inference of a transsexual, but, also of trans-species transformation as well! Betty crossdressing as man/dog becomes tranny dog-girl in love and has sex with a boy dog, but, eventually she becomes a 100% girl from her dog days afternoons. In another cartoon Betty is tormented by a sadistic ring master in a circus with whip and cage! It's a Marquis De Sade command performance all around.

 

As the 1930's progressed the Fleischer organization made Betty sexier and her femininity was ablaze. This was first exemplified in "Minnie the Moocher" with a wonderful musical assist from Cab Calloway. Her sexual wiles got racier and her breasts became more prominent, and her cleavage was as deep as the Grand Canyon and her tits were to die for, at least in the cartoon kingdom. Cleavage in a cartoon? Unheard of! In her introduction as a hula dancer she is only wearing a grass skirt and is topless underneath a thin lei she is wearing as we all waited for a strong wind to remove the lei and reveal Betty's Boops boobs! I'm still wondering if she would have had nipples. As for her underwear, many characters in her toons were always trying to sneak a peek up her skirt to see a full bush or a bikini wax. Add to her sexuality and the publics pubic fascination with her, the Lolita factor adn you have Hannah Montana Does Dallas. You see, the Betty character was officially always and only 16 years old in cartoon years and could qualify as Roman Polanski's girlfriend.

 

Betty has remained iconic for decades and is hotter than ever today. Her "film" career heyday was the the 1930's and 1940's but she also had a cameo appearance in "Who Framed Roger Rabbit" which launched the cartoon sex career of Jessica Rabbit! Who knows...in the future we could see a film of Jessica Rabbit seducing a 16 year old Betty Boop in an amimated lesbian love affair with one hell of a Boop Boop de Boop climax! If so, I will be first in line for tickets!

Chapter Fourteen - The Catnip Connection

 

From Felix to Fritz, felines have been making a beeline for the pop culture catbox since Prohibition! The silver screen exploded with animated animals including Steamboat Willie, the early incarnation of Mickey Mouse, a tribute to rodentia and canines were not left out of the mix, along with ducks and cwazy wabbits, but, when it came to the pop culture needs of Americans, it was no contest, they wanted Pussy Galore!

Cat idolatry has it's feline claws deep into the flesh of ancient Egyptian culture. Pharohs and felines seemed to have ruled the royal roost in those madcap days of Cleopatra cruisin' down the Nile. Egypt has survived the ages like a well preserved Imhotep and have permeated pop culture in art and cinema. Universal studios horrified the audience with horrific tales of mummies and curses, but, it was the cat cult that has turned ordinary pet lovers into virtual slaves!

The original cat cult was referred to as Mau, very smilar to "meow'. Cats were revered for their abilities to vanquish vermin and to conquer cobras in battle. Any warrior of this stature reserves the right to have it's own goddess, and one was given to them whose name was Bast. The frisky felines were so well respected that they were often given royal burial and mummifed, a practice usually reserved for only the Big Cahuna of the pharoh dynasties. One tomb unearthed revealed the mummified remains of over 80,000 mummy wrapped mousers. Felix was one of the founding cat fathers that paved the way for other pop culture celebs of the feline persuasion, that include Garfield, Sylvester and of course that feline hipster of the urban night, Fritz the Cat and his street gang of pimps and prostitutes. Felix made his cinematic debut in 1919 in short called Feline Follies. The name Felix was chosen for it's Latin roots, "felis" which means "feline"

Along with his "bag of tricks" Felix was the toast of the animated town. "Felix in Hollywood" released in 1923 had Felix on the big screen with an animated Charlie Chaplin. His fame soared and it was the equivilent of Beatlemania. Felix merchandising exploded with lunch boxes and anything else they could put his likeness on. He was also the first giant balloon designed for use in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. In 1928, Felix was the first image shown on a fledgling television experimental station in NYC and every newspaper in America it seemed carried the Felix comic strip which in turn was followed by Felix comic books. His fan base included Charles Lindberg who when he flew solo across the Atlantic carried a Felix doll with him to France! During WWII, a bomber squadron adopted Felix as their mascot and had his logo on the nose of the bombers which was a Felix holding a bomb with lit fuse. The voice of Felix over the decades was that of Walter Tetley, who is also best remembered as the voice of Mr. Peabody on the Rocky and Bullwinkle Show.

As for subject matter, Felix cartoons tackeled the Russion Civil War, prohibition and drugs including one titled, "Felix Dopes it Out" Rising poverty among Americans was also tackled and in one cartoon, Felix becomes a feline union organizer and gets the Meow Vote to revolt against the establishment. See, even Felix was a socialist revolutionary.

Like all great agents of social change for Upton Sinclair to Martin Luther King, Felix paved the way for Feline Freedom. Without Felix there would be no Garfield..there would be no Cat From Outer Space or even that Darned Cat, and especially, no Fritz the Cat! Brian Setzer may not have founded the Stray Cats for rockabilly feline lovers, and the punk band The Queers would have to use another logo for their mascot.

Fritz the Cat, was a street wise Lenny Bruce punk who knew every feline junkie, pimp and prostitute in the ghetto. Let's face it he knew hot pussy when it presented itself. Garfield on the other hand was the caustic and sarcastic cat wit that every mother loved and whether it was a soft, stuffed plush toy or stuck to the rear window, legs akimbo on the rear window of every soccer moms van, he was a national hit. sylvester the Cat had a speech impediment that included a spit and a limp lisp and was for the most part all talk and bluff, and a damned canary could pull the cat fur over his eyes with the greatest of easy. Sufferin' Succatash! One of the stranger cats was the cat purchased in the film Mouse Hunt. The large cat was to rid the old mansion of a troublesome mouse. The cat itself resembled Cujo more than Morris, and was aptly name Catzilla!

There was the sci-fi Cat from Outer Space and the ring-a-ding-ding That Darned Cat complete with Bobby Darin finger popping sound track. Brian Setzer set the stage for rockabilly cats everywhere with the back beat group the Stray Cats, and then...there was Alf..the cat's natural enemy. Alf was the terror of terrified felines, and being from another world, ate cats and regarded them as nothing more than a feline smorgasbord!

Even cats have a drug problem. It's not just confined to humanity. Catnip..the heroin of the jazz cat ghetto. The catnip connection is alive and well and many a stoner cat will consider this the drug of choice among their social circle. After a few hits, the feline in question will start acting bizarre like a crazed patron in a Chinese opium den. Catnip is legal for now, but prohibition can't be far down the road. If and when it is ever classified as a narcotic, you can bet there will be a rise in violent catnip cartels popping up like feral felines on a rampage.

Ok, not a cat per se, but we can't omit the sexual side of catology. The Human Cat Factor. Catwoman. Julie Newmar and Eartha Kitt brought a sense of sexual immortality to the pussy cult. Newmar in tight fitting leather pants and ears just makes a cat lover out of any self respecting male, or female who also wants to engage in a bit of a girl on cat romp in the hay. Leather works for me! So the next time you're enjoying a bowl of your favorite catnip and have to make a mad dash to the catbox or a visit to a cat house or Julie Newmar gives yo an erection or makes your nipples stand at full attention...thank Felix..the wonderful, wonderful cat and his hipster bag of tricks! Felix Rocks!

Chapter 15 - Scarface Snow White & Seven Dwarf Junkies

 

Now the truth can be told! It was one of those dark rainy nights, the kind where you find the lifeless bodies of spurned suicidal lovers lying in a cold gutter in a back alley. I was investigating the disappearance of an undercover dwarf who was off the grid and lost on some yellow brick road to nowhere. He hadn’t checked into headquarters for 48 hours at this point and there was reason for concern.

 

His mission was to infiltrate the Snow White gang of dope smuggling dwarves led by the Ma Barker of the Fairy Tale Kingdom..Snow White! She earned that media moniker by some overzealous journalists due to her insatiable appetite for cocaine nose candy. Candy is dandy...but liquor is quicker. There was cause for concern as he may have been found out and whacked gangland style by one of her hitmen henchmen.

 

Snow’s tale of crime began when it was discovered by a stoolie mirror who talked too much that she was the fairest of all. This didn’t sit well with her boss who was already one of the biggest cocaine dealers in the grimm land of fairy tales. Snow White was the underboss of the operation and she knew something was wrong and made plans to branch off on her own with her own gang of undersized underground lollipop guild and take over as Boss Bitch.

 

She formed a gang of wiseguy midgets who were loyal...Sneezy whose coke habit was enough to make Tony Montana and his little friends..wealthy beyond imagination. Doc who was the consiglieri and chemist who could whip up a batch of powerful powder to keep Harlem happy until Kwanza arrived. Sleepy was a heroin addict and kept nodding off. Grumpy who was one pissed off little dude who amped it up with amphetamines and Happy who unlike the others kept flying high on LSD. Bashful who was just that ever since the night he couldn’t get it up and the hooker Sleeping Beauty excused herself by saying “I don’t have all night. If you get it up..start without me..” and of course there was Dopey...need I say more?

 

We had sent in our own little person, Sleezy, our own Donnie Brassballs Brasco who earned his name in the rough trade according to the credentials we had manufactured. He was in and reporting on a growing drug trade to pixies and fairies such as the cross dressing Tinkerbell who was working the streets as a prostitute with every Tom Thumb and Little John who had cash and a Cadillac.

 

Her old boss, the Wicked Queen put out a contract on her and hired a gang of Irish Leprechaun thugs known as the Westies to carry out the hit but Snow’s gang caught wind of the impending war and struck first. Snow was to meet the Witch at Peter Pans Steakhouse that night for a sit down but it was a set up...Snow White dispatched John Gotti Gitchigumee to whack her as she stepped out of her limo...that night...all went as planned and Snow White was now in the black.

 

But Sleezy was now missing. Foul play? Nervous breakdown? He sleeps with the fishes?

Chapter 16 - Vikings, Cajuns and Accordions

When the first chords of Dvorak’s “From the New World” symphony begins its ethereal journey to the moon of your soul (Neil Armstrong took a recorded copy along with him on Apollo 11 in 1969) or when you get carried away and dive for the first Napoleonic foxhole during the explosive crashing cannonade of Tchaikovsky’s “1812 Overture” your senses are carried aloft to a surrealistic cloud of orchestration as you tiptoe through the timpani tulips.

Enter now the twilight zone of musical instruments and fear as you come face to face with those damned accordions as music begins its trek from orchestration to musical castration.

 

It is the black sheep of the famiglia musica, classified as a “free reed” instrument of pop culture mass destruction developed in China, called a “sheng” still in use today in secret Bruce Lee films never before seen by human eyes even in Hunan.

 

As it made its way to post Roman and post Celtic Europe it was modified and replaced, through selective inbreeding on a smaller scale, it’s equally reprehensible brother...the phallic looking pipe organ. If the pipe organ resembled a musical erection, then the accordion and concertina, both sometimes referred to as a “squeeze box” with its pump and pull bellows action was pure masturbation with polka beat.

 

I have a theory regarding the disappearance of the Viking culture of Greenland. During one of their rape, pillage and plunder “let’s get Nordic” vacations in post-Roman European Austria, one of the horned helmeted hipsters grabbed an accordian...by mistake...no one would steal one on purpose. Even a Detroit crackhead looking for a fix.

 

One night in the Viking colony on Greenlands coast as revelry ran rampant and the need for mead was at its peak...the Unknown Nord produced his instrument and began to play a medley of REO Speedwagon and Styx’s hits. It was at this point that the decision was made to unload Olaf whereby he was banished from the enclave to the surrounding mountains where he could pump his bellows in private. The music however cascaded down the mountain to the village of pillagers prompting them to abandon Greenland altogether and set a course for Canada.

 

As European immigration in the 19th and early half of the 20th Century was underway, Ellis Island became a clearinghouse for the family accordions that were the first illegal instrument aliens. They spread their musical terror from Acadia in Canada to those crafty Cajuns in Looooosiana. From German colonies on Texas the crossed the Rio Grande in Mexico. Soon the musical mating season was full tilt boogie! In Texas it became tejano music...in Cajun country it was zydeco. Both are strange, but I have to admit, delightful in sound unlike the clomping headache producing polka rolling out the barrel...give me Flaco Jimenez and Joel Sonnier and damn….ya’ll got mas musica!

 

You can still feel romance with accordion music believe it or not on a moonlight gondola ride in Venice or sipping your burgandy at a bistro on the River Seine in Paris. Give an accordion to a German and it’s time to lay siege to Stalingrad! Give it to a Polish polka band and you’re in a back alley in Milwaukee! No accordion band took to the stage at Woodstock, but imagine if Jimi Hendrix got a hold of one...or Pete Townsend...or Alvin Lee...all abandoning the guitar for DAS BELLOWS!! The Led Zeppelin Polka! We’d be doing “air accordions” instead of playing our invisible air guitars. Imagine a Jimmy Page Polka album...on second thought…

 

So if you are confronted by a girl who says she has a “sqeeze box” just smile and thank a Viking...or Weird Al Yankovic..and ask her to come over to your place for dinner, candlelight, and Viking role play and while she’s rolling out your barrel it’s time for some sqeeze box action!!!

 

Chapter 17 - Extreme Dickens Christmas

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” It is also the wrong opening hook of the wrong Dickens novel to be quoting from during this or any holiday season.

“A Christmas Carol” by C. Dickens has been and always will be a classic holiday tale since it first emerged from the pen and literary placenta of the 19th Century. Ebeneezer Scrooge, Tiny Tim, and three go! go! ghosts have blazed their merry ass trail into the collective Christmas cranium for generations past, generations present and generations to come. My Gen, your gen, gen’s on the holiday horizons...it just won’t go away!
Many adroit adaptations have graced live theater and blazed brightly in the silver screen. They have been linguistically performed in just about every language spoken on this blue orb of Babel. The films have been a showcase for E. Scrooge for everyone from Allister Sims, Henry Winkler to my fave George C. Scott. But...what if Dickens were alive today...and produced his own version for the TNT network...ladies and gentlemen I give you Extreme Dickens..and Robert Osbourn.

“This is Robert Osbourn for TNT classic movies.Tonight’s feature presentation is a new spin on an old classic. A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. In this updated somewhat ribald version we have Al Pacino starring as Ebeneezer “Scarface” Scrooge, a feared Cuban drug dealer with a penchant for red leisure suits who directs a world wide drug operation and invites us the viewers to say hello to his little friends...the Elvis Elf Cartel. This time at Christmas when it snows it blows cocaine up the nose! His arch rival is Snow White played by Tim Curry in drag (surprise surprise!) as Kim Kardashian who runs a group known simply as the Magnificent Seven bi-sexual Dwarves. The version has made other changes in keeping with the spirit of Americana. 18th century England with a bunch of Cockney accents has immigrated and Scrooge now operates out of a broken down ranch in the small town of Tony, Montana.

Scarface Scrooge works his minions harder on Christmas Eve than a Walmart employee on Black Friday, first made popular in the film “Shaft!” as a blackploitation film. Well shut my mouth!

 

That night while sleeping in his compound, his former drug partner, Marley, no, not Jacob, but Bob Marley...Marley is dead and is a reggae ghost now and is played by former white as white can be Senator Strom Thurmond who was cast perfectly in the role as he is dead now too, and even when alive he looked dead so heads or tails, he was dead on perfect for the role..he was useless in Congress after all.

 

Scrooge who certainly lacks anything resembling the Christmas spirit is told by Marley, “Hey Mon, tonight you will be visited by three little pigs...or three bears maybe..or three ghosts...I can’t remember which.” To which Scarface Scrooge replies….”Fredo, I love you like a brother, but if you ever go against the family again…” reading his lines from the wrong script!

The ghosts by the way are the ghost of Christmas Past played by Christopher Walken, the ghost of Christmas present portrayed by Steve Buscemi and the Ghost of Christmas Future is played to perfection by Gary Busey. Together they are The Three Reservoir Dogs of Dickensonsville!
Along the journey into the fast paced pinball world of fast forward, reverse and neutral that evening, Scrooge encounters Sugar Plum Fairies brilliantly portrayed by the Ru Paul Drag Team where the colored girls do indeed take a walk on the wild side going do do do do do do...etc etc..and Pee Wee Herman grabs his rain coat as Little Joe who never once gave it away…everybody had to pay and pay.

In this Sam Peckinpah-esque cinematic romp we also encounter Santa Claus, portrayed by Mickey Rourke and also features Kim Bassinger as they reprise their 9 and a Half Weeks characterizations with cookies and milk, a favorite scene of the BDSM crowd when they run out of snuff films. Rumour has it Mickey underwent cosmetic surgery and played the role of Bassinger as well!

Bob Cratchit, played by Reefer Sutherland works as an accountant for Scarface Scrooge and cooks the company books and launders the money into legit business operations and offshore bank accounts...he also has a little cripple son...Tiny Tim played by Joe Pesci who has a game leg from an old bullet wound and a mouth like a sailor. So much for sympathy for the little tyke…”Do I amuse you? Funny How?” At this point Ray Liotta enters the scene for no apparent reason.

After Scarface has his nightly encounters he has a change of heart and his heart if filled with the Christmas Spirit. “I don’t mind the ghosts,” he mused, “but a wet dream would have been better!”
He leaps out of bed...puts on his holiday shoulder holster and greets passer by on the early morning Christmas streets. “Get the fuck out of my way you cock-a-roach!” Just then Rudolph the Commie Red reindeer appears guiding a red zeppelin with 8 tiny reindeer. An 8-track of Jimmy Page guitar solos blasting away with the holiday stairway to heaven holiday spirit.

He rushes to the Crachit household with a Christmas goose, and presents including a pair of fishnets for Mrs. Crachit. He also gives the oldest Crachit girl a box of tampons which she begins to hang on the chimney not having a clue as to what they are used for!

Laughter and good cheer prevail and as the story begins to end and hurries to fade to black...Tiny Tim Pesci looks quare into the camera and utters those immortal words..
“Fuck us all everyone!” I hope the little bastard breaks his other leg after a visit down the chimney from Jack Nicholson and the gang from The Departed!!!

 

Chapter 18 - Election Erection

The American Electoral System has given the White House to Caucasians for centuries. and now our first African American President. Soon, we’ll one day have our first Native American (Imagine all the treaties that would be rectified) our first Asian American (They own Hawaii already) and our first Latino-American (Wow! Low Rider Limo’s bouncing up and down! How cool is that!) holding that office as well...and is a good thing. A little diversity goes a long way. No, I did not forget to mention our first Female President. I didn’t mention it as Eleanor Roosevelt already has that distinction.

 

I would also like to see our first Hemaphrodite president...that way the president can fuck him, her, itself while also screwing the American public at the same time.

 

What about our first Metrosexual president. They love to sport that 5 o’clock shadow look so popular today, although it didn’t work very well for Tricky Dicky Nixon when he appeared on television with a well coiffed JFK. He came across like as a gutter wino at the ball in Camelot.

Our first transgendered female Prez would be interesting too. That way we’d have the President and First Lady in one package and instead of getting bashed by the media all the time over policy she’d instead end up being criticized by Mr. Blackwell for fashion faux pas.

 

Our first Gay president would have that Oval Office redecorated in a jiffy in bright rainbow colors and go on massive shopping sprees instead of playing golf. I guess we wouldn’t have a First Lady but instead a First Partner which makes more sense anyway as the First Ladies do have their say in the sack when the Prez isn’t boinking an intern.

 

A Lesbian President. Hell yes. Guys get off on that kind of thing anyway and with all the Millennials having girl crushes today, voter turnout might exceed 99% making for a new record for the electoral process. The first overseas diplomatic visit won’t be to the Middle East or Russia to arm wrestle with Putin but instead would shuffle off to Amsterdam to see the dikes!

 

Lord help us if a Catholic priest makes it to the White House. I’d keep my kids away from the annual Easter Egg Hunt and the White House playground. It will be a papal version of Pop Goes Your Weasel

! If a Mormon gets in office, there will not only be a First Lady, but also a Second Lady, Third Lady etc...and all of them would not even be of voting age and would have a curfew of 9 ‘clock. Hell….no state dinners but a lot of proms at 1600 Penn Ave.

 

Vote for diversity in the upcoming election. Pee Wee Herman said it best…”My bird in my hand is worth more than a Jeb Bush or... Hillary’s bush!

 

 

Chapter 19 - The Day Santa Got Wacked

Who really pulled the trigger that wintry day? It’s hard for anyone who was alive that fateful December space in time to not know where they were, what they were doing and the impact of the day Santa Claus was assassinated while riding in a one horse open sleigh. (The Secret Santa Service wanted him to borrow the St. Nicholas Pope Mobile with bullet proof bubble but Santa wanted to work the crowd that day as he rode through downtown North Pole unaware of what lay ahead as shots rang out, some say from the Nanook of the North Book Suppository Building by a sharpshooter armed with a modified official Red Ryder, carbine action, two-hundred shot range model air rifle by alleged lone assassin, Lee “Ralphie” Oswald.

 

The whole event was captured in glorious black and white on 8mm home movie film by Tiny Tim Zapruder who at the time put his crutches aside and was sitting in a shopping scooter with basket while filming from a handicapped parking space at the nearby Walmart. The film is still as disturbing today as it was then when supposedly a single bullet did the most amazing ballet moves that would dazzle Barishnikov by going to and fro, back and forth, in and out, up and down, sideways and backwards as Tiny Tim screamed as shots rang out, “Duck and Cover, Everyone!”

 

Santa and Mrs. Claus, had already been to the New York City Macy’s Day Parade on Thanksgiving where there was an attempt by a giant Felix the Cat balloon to smother the jolly old elf but the attempt was deflated, so to speak by a Macy’s cashier. Following that appearance, Santa arrived for the Detroit parade where he was sleigh jacked and during the fracas ended up in Henry Ford Hospital emergency room from gunshot wounds sustained in the parade attack. But that day at the North Pole…..will forever haunt us….

 

Some speculate that Ralphie was a Christmas Story patsy for the CIA and the purposely set him up to take the fall. He was arrested originally for distributing disturbing literature for an organization know as Fair Play For Cubans Living in the Yukon. (When arrested he was told by arresting cops “You’ll shoot your eye out kid!”) He was reluctant at first to accept their offer until J Edgar Hoover met him in a changing room at Victoria’s Secret during orientation and issued the dreaded J. Edgar Triple Dog Dare.. At first it was merely a standard double-dog-dare. What else was there, but a "triple dare you"? And then, the coup de grace of all dares, the sinister triple-dog-dare.

 

Some witnesses on the scene that day say shots also rang out from the Grassy Polar Bear Knoll by an unknown accomplice. Conspiracy theorists speculate there were actually two shooters and the Grinch was the gunman in place to make sure Santa went down faster than a bowl of jell-o down a chimney lubricated with WD-40.

 

There is so much written, produced, speculated, studied, that it is as blown as far out of proportion as a condom on a fat mans head. Lee “Ralpie” Oswald who was never actually convicted of the crime was himself killed in a police igloo station by Jack “Ruby Red Slippers” Frost owner of an Eskimo Strip, Laplander Lap Dance and North “Pole Dancing” Club. So how did he get into the back room of the igloo holding area with cops on either side of Ralphie? Ralphie then on live national TV is whacked by a pimp with a gun..or as Lenny Bruce described Jack “Ruby” Frost as "A Jewish Billy the Kid riding out of the west"

 

Strangely, the cops found Ralphie with in hours and knew to look in a movie theater where he was watching “Polar Express” and “Penguins” Let’s face it, cops today can find a donut shop without a GPS but an assassin? They’re are always on TV asking for "our" help in locating such and such, but those North Pole Polar cops ...right on the ball and case closed and suspect killed within days..now that is police work!

 

So who really whacked Santa? Was it a cartel of Cuban elves pissed off over the whole Cuban Mistletoe Crisis? Hoover’s FBI Sugar Plum Fairies? CIA Wet Works Leprechauns? Scrooge Mobsters from Chicago or a merely a lone gun man with an Daisy air rifle...The only one whoever really knew, Ralphie, was shot dead before he could speak.

 

There was an investigation into the murder and the eight tiny reindeer were brought before a Congressional Hearing as they were the closest to Santa over the years...hauling his fat ass around the globe. Some theories advanced claim it was an inside job orchestrated by Rudolph “The Red” who kept to himself and never played in any reindeer games. A loner by nature he did have a close relationship with Jingle Bells Hoffa, head of Reindeer Teamsters Local 509 who mysteriously disappeared. Many think his body is buried in the iceberg that sunk the Titanic. Others claim he was killed by disgruntled union elves over Santa’s plan to ship toy manufacturing overseas to Chernobyl so toys would glow in the dark. Things went well until the big bang Chernobyl boom and some deranged individual kept yelling, “It’s a wonderful life Mr. Potter...Mrs. Potter….Harry Potter..and all you little pothead Potters!”

 

One mystery that keeps surfacing is that Santa made a deal to subcontract with the Unabomber to mail out excess Christmas packages over the holiday season. He said it would be a real blast! Each package came with card, manifesto and detonator.

 

Investigators also looked at Santa’s family especially his brother Ted who once was involved in an accident when a woman was drowned after his snowmobile hit soft ice and went under water at Chappaquiddick. Police searched the murky waters but Mary Jo was never found. The good news though is that they found Amelia Earhart. Ted since has been trying to get a bill passed in Congress requiring all cars and other vehicles to come equipped with air bags and Life Preservers!

 

Many witnesses who may have had information died mysteriously.....Coincidence? I think not. There is a new Santa in town..Santa the serial killer..and he’ll be traveling with three "ho’s" named Ho, Ho and of course, Ho as accomplices …. so beware...he knows who’s been naughty or nice, leather and lace and this year when he comes down your chimney Christmas Eve...remember...this time … he’s armed and dangerous!

Chapter 20 - Tuba Nation Tuba Ligation

I have assaulted the world of music in the past discussing disgustedly about the blandness of Canadian music as mere elevator Muzak...the effect of folk music on felines addicted to catnip and the mass hysteria of fear caused by the accordion...a musical weapon of mass destruction that can turn any classic rock or classical music piece into a proletarian roll out the barrel polka fit only for consumption by bratwurst inhaling tailgaters wearing Ace Hardware retro bowling shirts making Milwaukee famous or making Green Bay Packer Backers ravenous for a meal of Chicago Bears while wearing triangular cheese hats.

 

Now it is time to discuss the terror wrought on the music loving population by the reign of TUBA TERROR!!! It has to be one of the most horrific musical instrument of all! It is time to perform a tuba tubal ligation or in symphonic parlance a TUBA ligation to stem the flow of tuba music from impregnating the world of music with Germanic oom pa pa spermatozoa.

 

A classical symphony is a garden of sound. A plethora of pleasing elements blended in a mix master compost created by a composer with orchestration brought to fruition by the maestro with baton and tux. Bernstein fully in charge of flutes and violins..it is a work of beauty...french horns...timpanis…piccolos...all coalesce in a colorful melange of surreal aural imagery. The symphony as such is classical beauty...Lauren Bacall….Ingrid Bergman….Katherine Hepburn...add tuba’s and you have Roseann Barr!

 

There are some symphonies written with the tuba cast as a leading man...more Sydney Greenstreet than Humphrey Bogart I grant you. Take Mahler’s Symphony #2... please! There are parts for rogue tuba insertions from Berlioz to Dvorak...bear in mind morphine was plentiful and available in their day. If they had known of lava lamps then you can imagine a performance by the Grateful Tuba Dead band circa 1703. How do you say Truckin’ in Austrian? Do Austrians truck at all or do they not even give a truck?

 

Beethoven wrote “Fur Elise” which includes a tuba solo. A tuba solo? Bear in mind he was deaf and inserting tuba solos was his way of striking back at the fickle finger of fate and make the audience suffer as well, and in fact wish they too were deaf!!!

 

The tuba is an example of pure dueling banjo southern inspired musical inbreeding….it’s genealogy can be traced back to 1590 with the creation of a curving puzzle of a monstrosity called “the serpent” which went through many changes and offspring including the Sousaphone...which came marching along with John Phillip Sousa as he gave it a martial march machismo that became….Military Music..bear in mind...Military Music is to music what Military Justice is to justice. “Stars and Stripes Forever” is tuba heavy. I can imagine the bugler waking us up in the army with a goddamned tuba instead of a bugle...he would have been fragged before breakfast!

 

Today there are tuba festivals in Canada (figures!) Ann Murray singing “Snow Bird” accompanied by a tuba with a Canuck accent. Gordon Lightfoot could sink the Edmund Fitz with one blast of a tuba!!

 

There is an international tuba competition held in Georgia every year. Great..dueling banjos...hell, I’d drop my Ned Beatty pants and squeal like a pig just to get them to stop!! Macy’s annual Thanksgiving Parade is almost here...be forewarned...many high school bands will march along the route with a massive display of tuba hardware..so much in fact it will resemble a Cold War Soviet Parade of armaments and missiles. All Kruschev needed was tubas in Cuba and we would have made a deal...Imagine a tuba aimed at Washington D.C. ...DEVASTATING. Tubas somehow had a little help from their friends and have even infected pop culture with it’s virus as one appears in one of it’s horn incarnations on the Sgt Pepper album just to the left of the centered drum. I remember when I first saw the album cover in the day stoned on acid...I thought it was a bong! WRONG...somebody spoke and I went into a dream…

 

Beware too...Hail to the Chief tuba solos every time he steps to a podium...it frightening for two reasons..one he’s a damned politician...and two he’s accompanied by Marine Tuba players….shouldn’t they be storming a beach somewhere instead...oh well….Sgt Pepper taught the Marine band to play for the benefit of Mr. Kite...who ran off with Lovely Rita and Lucy..and left his tuba next to a drum on an album cover….

 

 

Chapter 21 - Bag Pipes and Monica Lewinsky

I'll get to Monica Lewinsky in a minute...but first..Bagpipes are the Car Alarm of the music world. They seem to go off by accident and until the piper is piping hot it’s a cacophony of sound without a purpose, except to announce that manly men in kilts and fair lassies with short plaid skirts are about to appear in a nightmare on Riverdance Street! It is the Freddy Krueger of instruments. Aerophones to be exact played when one person takes the high road and one takes the low road and one gets to Scotland a’fore ye. I wish people still talked like that.

 

The inner workings of a bag of pipes uses reeds fed from a reservoir dog of air in the bag. The most common method of supplying air to the bag is through blowing into a blowpipe, or blow stick. In some pipes the player must cover the tip of the blowpipe with his tongue while inhaling, so that eliminates former President Bill Clinton. Remember he never inhaled...but Monica Lewisky was a virtuoso with his blowstick! In effect, the bagpipe is a terminal windbag patient relying on an intravenous feed of air to keep it alive until it expires!

Blame it all on the Irish and the Fighting Irish of Notre Dame U? Nope...bagpipes predate the civilizing of the Irish when the Celts hit the fan. They first appeared in places like Turkey, the Persian Gulf and North Africa.

 

Although most frequently used at funerals of the Donut Eating Minions but there has been an avalanche of folk music revivals and festivals not to mention flat out the influence of Michael Flately and the highland high stepping hijinx of his River Dance dancing Babes. Films….bagpipe overdose in Braveheart with Mel Gibson mixing it up with Celts in kilts.

 

Now, being of Canadian extraction me’sef I hate to admit that in Canada curling is king and the bagpipe is the OFFICIAL instrument of the World Curling Federation and played during the procession of teams before major curling championships. I mean it’s not like hockey where a good machchismo filled puck can penetrate your net.

 

Today bagpipes are proliferating like Tribbles in Captain Kirk’s bedroom and it may surprise you to know that the world’s largest producer of bagpipes is Pakistan!! No wonder we invaded them. Forget Bin Laden which translated from Arabic means, Bagpipe Gansta!

 

Hell, in this the E Age there is a new evil bag force called the Electronic Bagpipe developed in Austria...the same people who gave us Arnold Swarzennager and Adolph Hitler!

Remember the Sixties? Clear your fogged up brain and fear not. It got by us somehow but it began to insert itself like a junkies needle into rock and roll and is still here today used by musicians from Paul McCartney to AC/DC. Thankfully in my LSD dazed days I didn’t load up on Mr. Owsley’s acid at the Fillmore listening to White Rabbit or “Are You Experienced” on bagpipes. We did have bags of course, dime bags of weed, and hash pipes too but not the same..closest we had was a multi-stemmed hookah similar to a bag pipe without a bagpipe playing caterpillar doing a rendition of Piece of My Heart with Joplin doing a Wild Turkey Highland Fling. Thankfully there were no bagpipe solos at Woodstock by John Sebastian!!!

Chapter 22 - Kilts! Show Us Your Tartan Nessie!

Kilts, those mainly manly fashion garments of plaid and proud Scotsmen have been the butt of jokes (peculiar pun intended) and special  speculation about the mystery of what lies sleeping dormant and not so docile in the Lowlands below a lad’s beltline. Is that a Lock Ness Monster in your kilt or are you just happy to see  me?  Is it where Laddie keeps his Nessie nestled safely until it appears and raises it’s head erect to thrill the tourist so to speak?  Insinuating innuendos abound as well. Were you aware or not aware that many men and kilt wearing lassies wear no underwear?

 

The kilt can be traced back to its humble semi-erotic beginnings to the 16th Century when it was called a “great kilt” which was a full length affair with the top half doubled as a cloak over the shoulder and could also be used as a “hoodie” in the Highland Hood for protection in bad weather on the moors where the Baskerville Hounds howled in the dark dank night. The kilt as we know it today,  is referred to as the walking kilt that came into fashion around 1720 and is pretty much just the bottom half of a great kilt. The small kilt is called a “filibeg” and the little dangling bag, (not to be confused with what may lie under the kilt) is called a “sporran” or in effect...a man purse or man pouch. Now there’s a visual!

 

There are women’s kilts as well including mini kilts so ample thigh is visible and the treasure of her lowlands are yonder in the fields of musky heather. Interestingly enough, the femme kilt is made with a minimum of fabric with a narrower front apron to show off those treasured hips  as they swing and sway and sashay down the road from Eden to Edinburgh.

 

Tartans were tantamount to treachery and reasonable treason under British rule for centuries as they developed from an innocent indication of regional distinctions to the more sinister warrior class...revolution in plaid! Samurai’s in wool! So blame the Celts for kilts and Scottish cuisine especially cock-a-leekie (includes prunes for the prudes) which is obviously a boast to boost awareness of incontinence or merely to taking  pride in a Scotsman’s prowess with penile plentitude.

 

Along with cock-a-leekie at a kilt fest they also eat a dish called “potted hough” Now, I’ve been with many potted ho’s in my time but not when me sporran was busting out from me filibeg.

 

The kilt is part and parcel of a killer kilt cult that includes Angus of AC/DC among others and they appear at many a Celtic Festival with Highland Pipers and piping hot lassies with thigh high filibegs that beg for attention from your invisible sporran!

 

Yes for those of you dying to know..there are Kilt Strip Clubs from the UK to Brazil where you can party until the long haired Highland cows come home. Besides...a Brazilian in a kilt is the 9th wonder of the world no matter how you toss the cabor!

So Kilt Up America! Stop wondering what a Scotsman or Scotswoman wears under his or her kilts. Don’t be afraid...be a Mel Gibson “Braveheart” and let your “berry banger “ do your talking before ye go daft!  

Chapter 23 - Psycho Santa & The Time Machine

 

One thing that all horrific unsolved historical killings have in common is the singular significant and overlooked forensic factor. A fear factor in fact that by admitting it rather than omitting it causes our psyche’s to short circuit faster than a tab of  brown acid at Woodstock. The only person alive during each and every murder throughout time was Santa F. Claus!

 

I have found proof that cannot be disputed. Santa had a time machine sleigh to do his slaying. One  minute he’s Dr. Jekyll Claus, passing out candy canes and visions of sugar plums to impressionable children while breaking and entering through soot filled chimneys.  The next, after a stop at his meth lab, he’s the psychotic Mr. Hyde seeking helpless victims with a veritable variety of heinous weapons from a terror filled toy box!

 

Time machine sleigh? You scoff! You deride? You disbelieve? How else could he possibly circle the globe to drop off toys to every child on planet Earth and leave a trail of DOA in his wake as he zooms through history.  That’s right...A Time Machine! What better cover than a jolly old elf in a bright red suit to lure his victims to a holiday demise. Look what John Wayne Gacy did in a clown costume. Rigoletto on a rampage! As for the eight tiny reindeer, feed them narcotics and they will fly believe me! Been there done that myself.

 

Santa, according to meticulous records kept at the North Pole Fortress of Solitude,  was also responsible for shooting down Amelia Earhart’s plane. Seems she was actually flying over Santa’s workshop airspace at the Pole. She saw the signs that said North Pole, and mistakenly thought she must be in Northern  Poland home Northern Poles, so she  continued her journey deeper into restricted territory. Santa scrambled his stealth reindeer anti ballistic sleighs to intercept - all locked onto target and they fired. Later the wreckage was moved to a Japanese held island and blamed on the Japanese just as we blamed them for Godzilla and raw fish.

 

Take the assassination of president Lincoln! We are taught in our elementary history books that J. W. Booth shot him, but later to pay the toll at the Toll Booth. Our American Cousin has begun on the stage at the Ford Theater (Notice too..Ford is a car brand, as is a Lincoln, in fact Ford makes Lincolns. Make sense? or Cents? One Cent..a Lincoln penny for your thoughts?) It was actually Santa who did the deed. Lincoln reportedly told Virginia, yes, there is a Santa Claus and was about to release his secret identity breaking the Presidential oath of Omerto. A contract was put out on him by John “Jingles” Gotti. Santa sneaks into the presidential box and whacks the guy. He then leaps to the stage, drops his candy cane and someone in the audience shouts out..."Leave the candy canes, take the fruitcakes!!" Lincoln is gone....in his wake he left us taxes, the draft, the rise of the Ku Klux Klan, the Indian Wars and a penny that ain't worth a plug nickle...freedom? All relative..but damn...he was Lincoln..the Man, the Car and the Tunnel!!!

 

Santa also roamed the hills of Hollywood causing murder and mayhem. The Black Dahlia is one of Hollywood’s most bizarre and infamous murders along with the assasination of mobster Bugsy Siegel. Both unsolved to this day, both committed by Psycho Santa!

 

The most infamous of all Santa slayings has to be The Ripper Killings. Some claim it was a member of the Royal Pain in the Ass Family who did the nefrious deeds, while still others say it was a skilled surgeon with a scalpel with a hatred of soiled doves...OK, hookers. New facts have emerged showing that Santa was rolled one night in the East End of London while on his toybag rounds and three hookers turned him down for sex. He said he knew who was naughty or nice and had a list and would turn them all into Scotland Yard if they didn’t comply with his sexual desire to have them pose as reindeer hitched to his sleigh while they were to be mounted by Donder and Blitzen. All went well until Rudolp stuck his electric nose in one of them and gave them a red glow and a shock as he short circuited while going up their chimney!!  Santa, now enraged began a campaign of murder and soon on the prostitute laden streets of foggy London Town...not a creature was stirring...not even a mouse.

Psycho Santa was a deranged demented demon. He was devil but did not wear Prada...he wore a red suit and an Edmund Gwinn beard. One other thing...as he whacked each victim he is known to have said to them as they took thier last breath...It WAS a wonderful life...Merry Christmas to all...you died by my knife!

Chapter 24 - Ru Paul Rudolph the Red Nosed Transsexual

Santa Claus...a man we visualize as machismo on ice from the North Pole with manly beard who handles a sleigh with the fearless skill and acumen of an adrenalin rushing bulletproof NASCAR redneck driver on the track at Talladega. He dons a fierce red suit and carries a whip in one hand...able to leap tall buildings in a single bound with the help of eight V-8 powered reindeer more powerful than Clysedale horses and able to break land speed records on the Bonneville Salt Flats! He commands the power of godfather Vito Corleone ruling over his family of hit men elves.

I have discovered in my research that all is not as it may seem at first glance. The Ho Ho Ho He was once a Ho Ho Ho She! Santa Claus was once known as Sandra Claus!!!!
It all began when Sandra and Rudolph watched the transvestite Ed Wood film Glen or Glenda. Rudolph at the time was moonlighting as a female reindeer impersonator at a dive club at the North Pole under the name of Ru Paul Rudolph and decided then and there to go all the way with a sex change. He was originally from Lapland where he was a transvestite lap dancer and prancer vixen with one hell of donder flaming blitzen in his reindeer thong so had been to Denmark many times and new the score.

Many misconceptions about Rudolph are as mythic as the Loch Ness Monster. Remember the old Rudolph cartoon where he meets another reindeer, a female named Clarice? Lies...all lies...in reality Rudolph went to Denmark and after the sex change operation became CLARICE!!!

The other 7 reindeer were nervous in the locker room when Rudolph/Clarice wanted to play some strange reindeer games in the shower with the others. Why do you think the let him up in front of the sleigh on Christmas Eve? Don’t buy into the bullshit “Rudolph with your nose so bright, won’t you guide my sleigh tonight?”
The truth is...no reindeer wanted Rudolph rooting around behind their haunches with a red bulb ready ready to play suppository!

Christmas Eves is a night of fear and loathing, not just in Las Vegas, but in the fanciful flights of reindeer fanny’s as Santa yells out “On Hashbowl, Tiny Dancer, Mincing Prancer, Va Va Voom Vixen (former topless reindeer dancer at the St. Nick Strip Club), Vomit, Stupid, Donner Party and Blitzkrieg (the former nasty Nazi German reindeer who still goosesteps to disco records by the Village People)

This Christmas Eve...look to the skies….and duck and cover!!! It’s Rudolph in rut looking for someone to fuck 

Chapter 25 - Sexopoly: Is Your Sex Life a Board Game?

Look at it this way...does your sex life feel like a game of “Battleship” or does it end up being more like the game “Sorry?” Most guys think of themselves as battleships, aircraft carriers and nuclear submarines and can sink the Bismark but when the performance is over...she may look at the whole affair as nothing more than “Trivial Pursuit!”

 

Maybe you have Zebulon Pike delusions of reaching the sexual orgasmic summit of Candyland. The game requires no reading and minimal counting skills, and best of all, there is no strategy involved. Most guys feel they can conquer Gumdrop Mountain and thaw out Queen Frostine, but instead end up as Sponge Bob lost in the Molasses Swamp.

 

In the sexual frontier of the game of “Clue” most men feel they are as wily and virile as Col, Mustard but soon misjudge their prowess and realize, maybe they can’t cut the mustard anymore as he discovers he can’t even find his knife in the ballroom while Ms. Scarlet reflects that he can’t hold a candlestick to Professor Plum’s lead pipe!

 

Monopoly is a real ball buster of the male ego. The Male views himself as a mansion on Boardwalk, but ends up being a Rescue Mission on Baltic Avenue. Worse yet, he sometimes can’t pass GO to collect..or in sexual parlance, make a deposit, but nonetheless is willing to take a “Chance” and hopes to hell he doesn’t end up tied to a railroad track in a failed attempt to enjoy the fruits of his female partners Community Chest!

 

Toys and sex also play a factor in the libido quest for gratification, He may picture himself as a manly macho GI Joe action figure with a virile Slinky, but Betsy Wetsy who by the very name is ready for action is disappointed when his performance is more Silly Putty in nature.

 

The male of the species takes special pride from self inflated egos in being as stiff and firm as a Lincoln Log, but in the end, (no pun intended, unless you feel “pun”ished) he may only be a stack of plastic Legos.

 

Most men also take special pride in their Erector Sets but fail miserably and turn out to be stack of playing cards falling apart at the last minute. His action figure self image degenerates into a fine portrayal of Mr. Potato Head.

 

Electric trains entering tunnels is very Fellini and most boys until they are men don’t realize the sexual ramifications of an engine cannonballing into a dark hole, whistle blowing and smoke rising..if that ain’t two track orgasm I don’t know what is. The manly man views himself as a human dildo but in the long run she regards him as a slot car in last place.

 

So, men...man up….face reality...you’re not really a doctor when you play “Operation” but thankfully there is Twister and Strip Poker..and if you play strip poker...remember this at all times..stack the deck and cheat!

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 29.10.2015

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