This morning I had a hunch that my kindred, Thomas Pynchon, was influenced by Ian Fleming, and his fictional character, James Bond. My ex-wife was married to Tom, who is kin to Ian. We do not converse. Neither do Lara Roozemond and I. We may have been sending each other e-mails – thinking we had a small bond? She asked me to remove several post on her facebook saying this was her “work” area. She either shut that account down, or blocked me. I am done guessing. I have furthered her career, immensely, and she should thank me. It may have been over Annie getting off with the eels in her foot-bath, or, Victoria Bond playing Nurse with her horsy chaps. I was experimenting on having MY FEMALE Bond be an aggressive sexist pig. This is a brilliant idea, and it is protected by my Copyright. I sent an e-mail to Bond people. No response! Is everyone talking to their attorneys? Rachel Maddow and other women got behind Tom Brokaw.
The author of this piece says Fleming was a source of some of Pynchon’s sexism, and, that is good enough for me. Tom is a CONTROL FREAK! Is Lara? I get to play Doctor with them both. Victoria Bond meets Thomas Pynchon! Wow!
I will have to take the time to describe the beautiful bond I had with my muse, I call ‘My Wing’. Will this be turned into a gross Stalking Tale? Lara has put her image and videos all over the Net – which she does not own. How I perceive these images, how they influence me, or, inspire me – is my own damn business! I chose to be FULLY OPEN about my true feelings!
All the famous people – are in my corner! They are in my family tree attached to my Copyrights! I might have Victoria Bond take on Darth Vader in the Swiss Alps! I am being very generous to Lara.
I forgot, it may have been the title of that chapter ‘Aunt Annie – The AntiChrist’ that concerned Lara who may have felt (without reading) this would keep her off the runway of Christian designers. Is she a Christian? I have studied how Biblical Men replaced goddess worship, and that is what I am aiming for. I made a mind-movie of the the first chapter, where Victoria runs away from a man out to kill her – as fast as she can! She is a good runner awayer. This is the opening chase scene inspired by Lara’s gun video. Victoria appears to be a coward. She owns no gun. However, she has a Guardian Angel. I just got chills writing that.
It’s time for Lara and I to do business. Are you just another pretty face, or, are you a poet and writer. I WANT your input. A collaboration is possible.
I am posting the cleaned up version of Annie, and the original – below. I have restored the original where Victoria get naughty with an ice-pack, verse the male Bond plying women with Bourbon on the Rocks. I have thirty years of recovery, and, doing my version of a male Bond, might put me in a bar, chugging them down – again! Yes, I was good at picking up women in bars. Women in bars – are instigators! It has come across the psychic airwaves, that Lara is a virgin.
“Lower them about an inch and half and you will take first place. Do you have an ice bag handy. If not, we can go to my place. You might need a bandage-wrap, too.” Again he did not flinch, even when she delivered an inviting squeeze – above his aching knee.
As to orgasm by small eels, I might have Victoria visit Hugh Cavenaugh in his London Playman mansion, it all she can do to sit still as he lays his Playman philosophy on her, backed up by Masters and Johnson psycho-babel. I am going search the internet for a Peter Sellers look-alike who will be in multiple scenes. My brother drove Sue Lyon to class. She, Liz, and Burton were playing sex games – allegedly.
A Virgin Bond! How perfect! Every Bond movie starts out with seeing James get his cookie, while his sex-mate gets hers. This is like watching thoroughbred horses mate. Ho-hum!
My mother played sex-games with the stars at the Beverly Hills Hotel. She told her teen children she made porno movies for the Mob. So, Lara is going to have to put her big pants on – and grow up!
“Those people were even too kinky for me!” Rosemary told me back in 92.
I am now conducting my first casting call, for a Peter Sellers look-alike, and a Mr. Dougsdale. Ringo may be my choice.
Good news! John Cleese is still alive! I want him to play Victoria’s Majordomo, who fills her in on all the Royal Gossip – that is fifty to a hundred years old! As she takes her coat;
“Good news. George has hired a specialist to help him with his stuttering. Now we can get the straight scoop without waiting a week! Wink! Wink! Nudge! Nudge! Things are going to change around here – in a hurry!”
Victoria is always slow on the up-take as she examines this latest vital information to see if any of it is current. She stutters as she starts to tell Sir Dougsdale he is hanging her mink in the toilet.
My ex was married to David Seidler. If we can’t get Cleese, I will play Dougsdale! This way, our star, Lara Roozemond, will not be able to distant herself from me – too much! Of course I will be Love-struck!
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Majordomo
“Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me. My aunties on Corsica can trace their lineage back to the ancient handmaidens of Rome. They are experts on how to keep your legs crossed when encountering rich and powerful men.”
Jon Presco
Copyright 2018
James Bond and Gravity’s Rainbow: A Possible Connection
“Don’t tell anyone. But I’m having the best orgasms of my life! WHOA!”
“Can I get me some?”
“Don’t you get enough? Who are those bow-legged chaps I see you running around with?”
“I’m talking about eels. But, if you must know, no man can turn down a good ice-bag knee-job. It’s a trade secret. If you grab a man’s knee, just so, he’s your sex slave for a night and a day! Here, let me show you. I read about the K-spot in Freidrich de Rougemont’s ‘Wild Men of Borneo’.”
“OH MY!” I wish you had not shown me this. Now I will be lying awake all night thinking about the ones that got away. No more of your crazy horse-shit talk. Go to Manzes. Tell them I sent you. What are you going to do with them?”
“Aunt Annie. I have a confession. I wasn’t going to kill myself so long ago. You see, I have this movie going off in my head. I……….!”
“Say no more. What you got, is what few of us have. You own a – DESTINEEEEEEEEEE!
The Royal Janitor
by
Jon Presco
Copyright 2018
Anna Zola claimed she was the great granddaughter of Emile Zola. She lived on a tugboat on the Thames. One day, while in the wheelhouse, she spots a beautiful young girl who looked to be seven years of age. She was teetering on the edge, on a rotten piece of timber with big rusty nails hammered in it . How dramatic! She had the most troubled furl on her brow. Annie opens the window, gently, so as to not disturb the poor waif, but, owning a powerful voice, she almost knocks her into the water!
“IF YOU ARE THINKING ABOUT THROWING YOURSELF IN. WHY DON’T YOU HELP ME TAKE MY SCONES OUT OF THE OVEN, AND HAVE A CUP OF TEA WITH ME, INSTEAD?!”
Regaining her balance, Victoria Bond looks up, and as she later tells it,
“I beheld the Face of God, or, the Face of Goddess Hera ‘The Water Queen of Mount Olympus! It was a near-death experience!”
“The Water Queen saved my life!” she told the Austrian equestrian, who was so well bred, he did not flinch. Most royal people, are insane. He passed the test. Victoria now looked for the right moment to place her hand on his knee. She sensed an aching there. His stirrups were too high.
“Lower them about an inch and half and you will take first place. Do you have an ice bag handy. If not, we can go to my place. You might need a bandage-wrap, too.” Again he did not flinch, even when she delivered an inviting squeeze – above his aching knee.
Reaching for another scone, Victoria told Aunt Annie why she wanted to end her life.
“My mother died when I was four. I don’t know who I am anymore. I’ve read so many books. I know all the Fairytales, and other fanciful lore. But, I am left empty. I feel like a ghost upon the Moore. Perhaps one day I will find him – my Heathcliff!”
“All is not lost, my dear. I sense there is a poet lying within you – and a romantic?”
“How did you know. I have committed to memory a hundred thousand poems. Let us be friends.”
“You can come visit me anytime you want. Would you like to go see my play. I can’t give my tickets away? Perhaps, one day………….Now you got me doing it.”
“Doing what?”
____________________
Annie was Victoria’s GO TO. Whenever she was in trouble, or, needed a hand. The Right-wing Christians called her the Anti-Christ ever since she knocked Cian O’Hannesy out of the ring that was built for their wrestling match. They built it under near the giant Ferris wheel, and tripled the price to get on it and watch their Jacob wrestle with a demonic fallen angel. Cian was the only human being Annie hated.
“Everyone of his opinions, is a hateful one! Even Hitler had a nice opinion, or two. I wish I could get that ‘Catholic Starver’ in a ring with me! I don’t fight fair. I fight to win!”
From her tug, Annie Zola ran her radio talkshow that was now syndicated all over the world. Kin Kong Fu loved it, and invited Annie to North Korea. Cian was the King of American Plot Radio. Everything was a UGLY PLOT. The uglier – the better. When he called Annie, ugly, and compared her to Tugboat Annie, Annie became curious as to who Cian was talking about. Then, she found her, her Weir. It was love at first sight. Annie owns the whole collection of Annie movies.
Thinking she could now best Cian in there ongoing War of Words, she thanked him for introducing to her Marie Dressler. That’s when the Ugly Child Starver went after her Hero – and Wallace Beary. He called him a fag, and Annie a lesbian. His Goon Squad of UtterLosers loved every minute of it. They made Ugly Annie cut-out masks, and wore them in Confederate Flage Waving parades. That’s when the challenge was made – and accepted. Annie had her supporters who waved ‘Ugly Is Beautiful’ signs, which made her wonder if the world was coming to an end.
Her most ferocious supporters were the Skinhead Nazis, and Racist Evangelicals who thought her play ‘White Woman’ was about the Rise of the Arian Race – again. Britain’s Black Panthers, who worshipped the infamous American movie, picketed ‘White Woman’ around the clock. There were violent clashes, of course. Annie showed up at the latest riot, and standing on the bed of an old truck with a megaphone, she shouted;
“WHO HAS SEEN MY PLAY? RAISE YOUR HANDS? WHO KNOWS WHAT IT IS ABOUT? WHO WANTS A FREE TICKET?”
“We don’t go to plays!”
When the bell rang for the first round, Annie charged Cian while whirling her arm about like a helicopter.
“DEFEND YOURSELF. I’M GOING TO HIT YOU AS HARD AS I CAN IN THAT TIGHT SLIT YOU GOT FOR A MOUTH. I WANT TO SEE YOUR TEETH GO FLYING INTO THE THIRD ROW.”
When Annie saw O’Shannity’s eyes turn into two black pits of fear, and, as he looked in the corner for his agent who booked him for a good beat-down, Annie delivered an uppercut that knocked Cian over the ropes into a group of Beauty Queens that were texting away, and, didn’t see him coming. Cian, landed in their laps. Video shots were taken of Cian’s bloody mouth bleeding all over their Amanni dresses. Lawrers were called. The Starver of Little Children was……………..FINIS!
____________
“How can I help you Dearie!”
“They won’t let me play my dragon in the parade. I’ve been getting threats from the McDonald Boys, Huey, Louey, and Bluey. They say they’re going to drag me out of the parade and stomp the shit out of my “Satan Thing”.
“OH REALLY! Would you be a dear and fetch me a fresh bag of baby eels out of the fridge and put them in my foot bath?
“Why are you talking – normally?”
“This is all hush – hush. We lovers of Pie and Mash are smuggling in river eels from Russia. Those bastards got us by the balls. The owner of M. Manze is selling us bags of eels under the table. All up and down the Thames, we Eel Lovers are slipping these lil ones in the water. If we get caught, we will go to jail. We might contaminate the native species, forever.
That’s it. Just pour them in. They eat all the dead skin off my feet, then have a go at my toe cheese. The President of the United States is addicted to Pie and Mash. That’s why he built his golf course in Scotland. There’s a river running thru it. If these crittters take, then our troubles are over! Did you know New Zealand was founded by poor rioters who went ape-shit during a great eel shortage. We are on the brink of another great riot. Folks are starving in London.”
“Oh! I almost forgot. I finished Judith’s second number. She sings at the Comet Café in South Africa. It’s a lament, telling her adopted tribe a great comet is coming that will take her home to her people in New York. Here’s the score.”
“This looks good. Hand me my accordion. What a brilliant idea to turn White Woman into a musical.”
“Aunt Annie. I have a confession. I wasn’t going to kill myself so long ago. You see, I have this movie going off in my head. I……….!”
“Say no more. What you got, is what few of us have. You own a – DESTINEEEEEEEEEE!
Jon
Rosamond Press 
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