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Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Jerry Robinson RIP

I apologize for the belated post. It saddens me that longtime Batman artist and both Joker and Robin creator Jerry Robinson passed from this earth at age 89 in New York on December 7th. I met Mr. Robinson at his lecture in Greenwich, Connecticut at the Museum for Cartoon Art in the 1980s. He was gracious, humble, charming and a great guy. You would never realize his genius as he did not come off in that way.

There is no debate that the Joker is the seminal villian in both comics and literature. All of us who avidly read and write horror and adventure are vastly indebted to Jerry for his work and his creation.

Rest in Peace Mr. Robinson. All of us feel your loss now and for time to come which is why we should celebrate your brilliance today and each day we view your work.

Saturday, December 10, 2011

Corpses Don't Bleed

The Kindle edition of Corpses Don't Bleed can be found on Amazon.com. Only $1.00 and published by BIZARRE BOOKS. LOVE THE COVER!!!!!!!!

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

ANGEL OF MERCY PUBLISHED BY THREE MINUTE PLASTIC

It is there today--issue number seven with some awesome reads. I am fortunate to be a part of this issue with Jon, John and E M.

Mine is the story of the moment of death--the exact moment.

Thanks guys and happy reading.

Friday, December 2, 2011

Corpses Don't Bleed

Just reviewed the cover--it will be for sale on AMAZON shortly. Thank you Kyle and Bizarre Books for having faith in me and my tale of mayhem.

Monday, November 21, 2011

Flashes In The Dark Publishes TRINKETS

Thank you to Lori Titus and Flashes In The Dark for publishing Trinkets one of my short horor tails. Give it a read as well as Flashes In The Dark in general--a site with chills and thrills for all.

Friday, November 18, 2011

Knock Stories

Thank you to Hall Brothers Entertainment for accepting our four knock stories:
Eggs, RIP, Operation Just Isn't A Game, and Hair of the Dog for publication.

Saturday, November 12, 2011

Parade of Bad Poetry Presents:

Smack Me


To some it sure is funny,
To others, it’s quite sad.
While time turns into money,
I sit on my fat pad.


I try to be insightful,
And witty and urbane,
But to many it’s quite doubtful
That I have anything to say.

SPLATTERPUNK IS NOT DEAD!

It's not but it is delayed. Patience---we have it.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Bad Poetry Presents:

Physique

I think it’s fair for me to say
‘That time is meant to run away.
That time never really attaches,
it just slaps you as it passes.’

No cultural lasting impressions,
only the saggings and retentions:
those ravaging hits and runs
on your face, chest, legs, and buns.

The lack of hair upon your head.
Your belly could double as a bed.
The slightest movement makes you tired.
Everything else raises your ire.

All this is natural for sure,
as we near the end of life’s tour,
when each of us should check our egos
and burn those toupees and spangled Speedos.

Copyright

Even the bad poetry. Copyright in all this is the property of this unread uncommented blog. We press forward.

Monday, October 31, 2011

Saugus.net Halloween Ghost Story Contest 2011

A hearty and gleeful thank you to the judges who picked my comedy ghost story--A VISIT as a third place winner in their nationwide contest under the Adult Category.
I have to tell you the stories ahead of me are marvelous and as I read through the elementary, middle school and high school winners we should take notice that the future of this genre in literature is in great hands. Congratulations to all winners for 2011. Happy Halloween!!!!!!!!

Sunday, October 30, 2011

Parade of Bad Poetry Presents:

Living On Time

Not very long ago, I lay awake in bed.
I thought about my life as it is
and that’s when I found myself dead.

At first I was kind of mad, worried about my tan,
and all the golf I was going to miss
as a result of my wife’s cold hand.

She hadn’t been herself in awhile, so a smile was nice to see.
Her eyes vibrantly danced with joy
as she continued to kill me.

And as I was being sliced to dust, I entered into a pause
and wondered about the universe
its meaning and its cause.

Could there be life somewhere else? That’s the mystery.
Out in all those planets and stars
far from our own galaxy.

And in that place, if they are, are they void of strife?
Unlike us, in a utopia,
with people less true to life?

Saturday, October 29, 2011

Parade of Bad Poetry Presents:

Paycheck

Electrocuted at sunrise.
In time to kill more brain cells to survive.
Watching them zip your dreams into body bags.
Waiting for their permission to die.

What did you expect?
Your life is nothing but a piece of cellophane.

Parade of Bad Poetry Presents:

The Day

The sky is grey
and the dawn can’t lift its haze.
The seas are brown
with the products of greed and waste.

The forest is black
and overcome with the dead.
The die is cast
and to our future we are wed.

The trees just bleed
in submissive conformity.
The sterile grass
salutes our obsessive vanity.

Back to the dust
I crawl in pain and disgust,
winding my shroud
as the sun slumps to the ground.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Saturday, October 15, 2011

Microhorror---Thank you

Thank you to the good folks at Microhorror for publishing my story I WISH IT WOULD RAIN.

This is a great e-zine of flash fiction.

Saturday, October 1, 2011

Chapter 4 The Devil's Hour

Three in morning is commonly known as the Devil's Hour; a time when spirits and demons are at their most active and this morning they did not disappoint.

At exactly 3:07 am and 16 seconds both are night vision camera and electronic record ding devices picked up a rare simultaneous paranormal action. On camera a fine white mist developed over our cook top---could it be a the ghost of flour tossed in the air? I say flour because of the simultaneous evp recorded; an evp that terrified the entire team: "add flour" "add flour".

At exactly 3:11 am and 19 seconds as the team was was climbing stairs to a catwalk; the entire team, and I stress that everyone was accounted for; heard a disembodied scream "Where's the Risotto!" coming from the space directly below them. This scream was heard by all but since all our recorders malfunctioned at that same time, we were unable to record it and we knew this to definitely be be paranormal.

At 3:23 am and 47 seconds we picked up the strong smell of bacon cooking. The smell was traced just inside a doorway where there was a vacant room. Could this room have housed a kitchen or a hotplate in its past?

As we trudged on I decided to go for broke. I unpacked a small gas powered hibachi. My plan was to use this cookware as a trigger object to draw the hauntings directly to me. This was a gamble of sorts, but a gamble that soon paid off.

As I had finished preparing the salad course, prepping for the main course, I and my camera man distinctly heard a voice. This voice was followed by a dart shadow like figure running past the basket of pimento loaf. The voice, or should I say the entity, quickly established itself as intelligent: "Where's the potatoes?" "Wheres the potatoes?"

Just think how unjust it must be for a spirit to be caught between the world of the living and eternal rest; to be locked into a sort of limbo because a last request or a want has gone unsatisfied.

We not only study ghosts but we help where we can to send them toward the light. It was at that moment that I decided to cleanse this building of at least one spirit. I quickly dug into my cooler pulling out a hand full of sweet potatoes in effort to whip up a souffle.

Twelve minutes and sixteen seconds later; we distinctly heard a loud and angry disembodied yell that came not five feet from me "I wanted russets!"

In an undisclosed location; a location we are sworn not to divulge, the dead both appear and speak in an eternal struggle between our world and that of salvation.

The End.

Friday, September 30, 2011

Intermission and a note

Before we proceed through the final installments of the ghosts and the gourmet, those who tuned in for Paranormal Home Remodeling, it will be pre-empted for a while after all poltergeists and nail guns do not mix.

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Chapter 3 It Crushed My Ding Dong

It was also at the moment that we discovered there was a second voice on our recorder. This was the voice of a female. As we listened closely within the white noise we could hear 'oops'; and then when I realized it crushed my ding dong.

In a bag next to the grill some eight inches from my tongs and apron in a crisp new brown paper lunch bag my ding dong was smashed, yet the bag is untouched.

Afraid? Yes. I should have left my snack in the car.

Chapter 2 A Gourmet

We shuddered when we heard that chilling voice. For a moment we were frozen where we stood. Then I realized this place's last incarnation was an adult movie house. I should have worn my other sneakers.

Luckily too we caught the voice on our digital recorders.

After careful review we realized we not only discovered paranormal activity; we discovered a gourmet.

Chapter 1 The Set Up

So they think they can scare me. They think because I mock them with a ghost cooking show idea this local paranormal group will show me whats what and what is by bringing me to a haunted location while I toil with my grill.

I have news for them; if you saw the size of me; nothing----I mean nothing gets between me and my food.

To quote the song as recorded by the immortal Jerry Lee Lewis and written by Robert Geddins--'Ain't no haint's gonna run me off.'

As we were setting up our equipment; grill, cameras, infrared lights, etc. One tech, on his union demanded break, went to eat a balogna sandwich; now keep in mind four of us were there; it got very cold--cold to the point we could see our own breath. Goose bumps sprung up on our skin; in an instant the sandwich appeared to be slapped from the huingry man's hand and mouth and we all heard in a strained by vile voice----GET OUT!

The game is on.

The Introduction

Well we did well on Dennis Miller this morning pitching the ghost hunt chef idea. Dennis liked it and email has been pouring in today from locals wanting more info. So, more info is ahead. This pitch that has grown a tail will appear in installments.
Enjoy the read.

Part 1 The Introduction

Television programming is no doubt mostly reality television and in the next year you will see a dramatic rise in paranormal programming; bascially ghost stories and ghost hunting. Couple this with our lust for food and travel and hence my pitch yesterday.

Well I have been contacted by a group who is unhappy as they feel I mocked them. What will follow is our attempt to hunt the other world while also satisfying our gluttony.

Further installments to follow.

Monday, September 26, 2011

What Are You Watching?

I have put together a pitch for a prime time reality television show that I believe should cross over two strong demographics. This show is perfect for holiday sweeps as well as those mundane times during the spring and summer.

What we do is travel to each state in the union, (that is fifty Mr. President) and match up paranormal teams and chefs. We find the most haunted place and have the chef cook during a night time lock down as the paranormal team hunts ghosts.

Recipes can be collected on evps and fun and mayhem, depending on the site, can ensue.

If this is successful we can branch out to 'paranormal home remodeling'; just keep an eye on the nail gun.

Don't be sure someone hasn't beaten me to it though.

Saturday, September 24, 2011

Changes at "Weird Tales"

I was surprised to see 'Catching Cold In A Cave' was returned by Weird Tales. Okay, I will pat myself on the back--yes it is THAT good; but the reason is a change in editorship. I wish everyone, incoming and outgoing, the best of luck.

I do want to thank the editors for their professionalism in returning my manuscript with that explanation; I have spoken with several other people whose fates are unknown.

So all of us who are insomniacs because of our fear to sleep, perchance to dream, so we write it out our heads--will await further word on content and policies.

Since 'Catching A Cold In A Cave' is not violent, just a creeping scare; we are shopping this tale to other like venues.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

The Final Revision To This Blog

We are back and FINALLY will be back in the final form. This Blog has changed from political to general and now it goes to what it was intended for. Mainly I write horror stories and my aim to scare the hell out of you or make so so uneasy you scare the hell out of yourself dwelling on what I have communicated. I am proud to say that my short story A BAD FRIDAY has been selected by Jeff Chitty for his SPLATTERPUNK IS NOT DEAD! I hope in the near future to make other like announcements.

After a long life and period of satisfying other people with my career my beautiful wife has decided, because of some local and sporadic success, to turn this demon loose and loose we will be.

I know this world is a scary place; I am here to make it scarier for my readers.

Some fiction will appear as will opinion as will observation. I hope you are entertained.

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Why I Hate Facebook

My attempt to use facebook has been subverted by a moronic element. I wanted to utilize it to help raise awareness for this entity but elements from high school have come back into my life and have turned it into a circus.

I left high school a number of years ago and I would have hoped that many of thes other people would have too----I guess not.

Saturday, March 19, 2011

True Horror

I have been known to write many a horror story. Ghosts, monsters, many of the mind and have had some success with those.

But I cannot conceive the true horror of what took place in Japan this past week. Our prayers and dollars are with thos in the hopes some manner of recovery can happen.

Godspeed.

The Change

As some of you can see we have removed all of the pre-election vitriol and campaigning. This blog, while it will sometimes touch upon politics will root itself firmly in the foundation of history to show that the more things change the more they remain th same.

We are committed to see that the United States of America returns to its days of exceptionalism and we will call out every Democrat, every Republican and every independent---and yes tea party independent who feels our political system serves their own need rather than the need for public service.

So eenough with the chap crass jokes. Enough with being dragged down to the level of one's opponent; let us seek out those inviduals who can truly lead without being holden to special interests and self agendas.

More history to folow.

Friday, February 25, 2011

Milford Connecticut’s First Presidential Visit

This blog originates in Milford, Connecticut and today we bring a tale from Milford's history:

Many of you are aware of the small monument just outside of the Parsons Center that memorializes George Washington’s visit to Clark’s in Milford Connecticut in November of 1789.

If you believe the tourist motivated legends, George Washington slept in so many places it is inconceivable he had the time to win our independence. Now with his own diaries accessible online facts can now be sifted from the myths; with one other point of solace to those misguided local historians—-the guy still had to eat.

What actually occurred at Milford’s Ye Olde Clark Tavern that November morning in 1789 may not be as celebrated as the crossing of the Delaware but it is just as well documented. The General was a meticulous diarist noting daily a full weather report each morning upon waking, along with his destinations and adventures in between. A forerunner to Zagat, his restaurant reviews mostly left a bad taste.

We know from a variety of sources that 18th century taverns more so than the confines of the local house of worship were the meetinghouses of the day, where the pressing issues of political and local intrigue were debated with spirit and spirits.

Clean drinking water was scarce and a printed menu even scarcer. Not so much to dispense with a paper trail but planning just wasn’t in the cards. Meals were based upon the availability of that morning’s find at the local market. This being wartime, the pickings were slim. Despite the knowledge of scarcity and an aroma of surprise sitting in each serving; in general, the General was appalled with the
poor quality of the grub he received; but again, a guy still has to eat.

Sources indicate he may have been to Clark’s on more than one occasion. Diary aside, his favorite meal, breakfast, was porridge. But on this memorialized morning he was hungry from a 5 am ride and needed sustenance and a break. Given first a plate of boiled meat and potatoes, the future President expressed great disappointment; Subsequently requesting a bowl of plain bread and milk he found his luck had not changed because he was also given a broken pewter spoon.

To say this meal at Clark’s was consistent is not an understatement, as history reports that this was the only spoon in residence. Upon being informed of this George Washington tossed two shillings to his server, commanding that he go to a local minister’s house and return with a silver spoon on loan.

It is normal for us all to conjure romanticized visions of our founders, larger than life, charging on steeds into battle against injustice and repression; however the reality portrays a time of great turmoil, in a land drained of its resources by a despot. Of people larger than life and persons forgotten living with sacrifice and even despair, having to make do with less. I see this marker almost every day and, no matter its original intention, to me it stands more as a testament to those times than a simple celebration of celebrity.

A Long Layoff

I took this layoff for a number of reasons mostly because I was getting tired of the grind to respond to the idiocy in the news and rival blogs. I fully underestimated the time required, realizing that the people who do these are either paid as in a full time job or these people are basically unemployed and write in between rants out of the window.

College students have the time since their work loads appear light. To be a successful collegian these days it simply is a matter to blame all the world ills on Bush and ride the coatails of one parents through age 26 or so.

This blog will comment on some of the news of the day; however we hope to open to literature, philosophy, science and evn music commentary. We go forward....