The New Cultural Warfront

My letters to my Congressman, Peter DeFazio, call for a New Cold War Front that brushes aside the Old Hippie Guard of misanthropes who captured the Emerald Velley Vortex, and have ben hanging on for dear life. Pursuing ever higher levels of THC, they have become a herd of apathic who meet once a year to roast a hog, and recreate the movie ‘Lord of The Flies’. Starfish knows all there is to know about Old Beelzebub, because she is a Kabbalist Scholar -since she was five!

Gideon Computer Strikes Back! | Rosamond Press

Vile Western | Rosamond Press

It is my contention, that Ken and his Mind Appendage Gang, could not handle the Beauty Queen from a REAL RURAL TOWN….Grand Island Nebraska. Ken had sued Michael Douglas -and won. He claimed that A Hollywood Swell took advantage of The Hayseed from Pleasant Hill, and Springfield Oregon, where I painted the portrait of my Nebraska Muse, Rena Easton. I have depicted her as The Woman Victim of Woman Kind who looks like the Daughter of Jesus

I have rescued several women in my life. I hereby rescue Mischelle McMindes and place her on the Isle of the Black Mask Authors who were friends of my grandfather, Royal Rosamond. That Ludwig Wittgenstein took a interest in Norbert Davis and other authors of pulp detective and western novels, contributed to his famous philosophy – something that the Kenites claim they were left, by the Kandy Kolored King. Prove it!

Two women stat behind President Biden. Vice President, Kamala Harris lived a real alternative lifestyle. Did she know about the Pranksters – along with the Panthers?

John Presco

President: Royal Rosamond Press

Sometimes a Great Lawsuit – Willamette Week (

“MiSchelle McMindes and Mike Hagen piled into Hagen’s Ford Mustang and drove 325 miles west from Eastern Oregon to see Ken Kesey.

Both had high hopes as they set out from Pendleton to Kesey’s farm, about 15 minutes southeast of Eugene.

McMindes was a 26-year-old go-getter from Grand Island, Neb., a brunet beauty-pageant scholarship winner recently turned private eye. She had an idea for a movie about the quintessential Oregon sporting event—the Pendleton Round-Up, a famed annual rodeo that began in 1910. McMindes had spent months researching the Round-Up’s history and collecting photographs before teaming up with Hagen, a 46-year-old television and commercial sound engineer in Pendleton.

All they needed was a screenwriter, and Hagen knew just the guy—Kesey. Hagen had been Kesey’s fraternity brother at the University of Oregon. And in the 1960s, he was one of Kesey’s Merry Pranksters as well as a co-pilot on the LSD-fueled cross-country odyssey that Tom Wolfe chronicled in The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test. Kesey was a natural to tell the Round-Up story. He was an Oregon literary legend and countercultural icon who knew how to spin a yarn. And he had time on his hands.”

The Royal Drum Circle

Posted on July 27, 2018 by Royal Rosamond Press

The Royal Janitor

Chapter Three

When Victoria told Starfish they were going to Eugene Oregon to track down what became of the Rose Division amongst the Habsburgs, she let out a spine-altering scrrrrrreeeee! She then shook all over, began to sweat profusely, and went into a trance. Victoria retreated, and Sharena got out from behind her desk, just in case she had to make a bee-line for the exit as Starfish made super rapid foot movements with quck turns in different directions. She would later tell the folks at BAD that this was the Lek black grouse dance she learned in South Africa where she and her father fled to get away from Vladimir Putin when he became Premiere of Russia.

“I’m going to bring my drum! This is a dream come true. My mother was born in Eugene. I’ve never been there! Screeeeeee!”

“You own a drum? Why isn’t this in the report? By any chance have you heard of John von Bond?”

“Nope! But, have you heard of the Oregon Country Fair! My Kabalak Klock is telling me this is a Kosmic Konnection made in another dimension. What great timing! We are going to enter the Royal Drum Vortex. I am forbidden to ever step foot in Eugene, but, I don’t give a shit! This is it! You’re going to see – the real me! I want you to promise you will get me back to BAD!”

Love Dance – With Ducks

Posted on July 27, 2018 by Royal Rosamond Press

The Royal Janitor

Victoria came in sideways to get Starfish, she twisting this way, then that, to avoid the gyrating flesh that clung to Agent 008 like kelp in a tidepool. Taking hold of her arm, she was shocked when Starfish turned in anger, and was about to slap her hand away.

“Don’t you dare! You got to come with me – now! Professor Bond is about to give his lecture.”

Starfish let out a whimper, and was pouting. Many hands tried to pull her back into the drum circle where she was a star. An old hag came up to them.

“Can we have her?”

Starfish gave Victoria a look of, hope. Perhaps things will continue to go her way.

“I’m sorry. She’s not mine to give!”

Again there came a whimper from Their Star, who made clopping sounds with her sandals all the way to the car. When she grabbed her drum, and clicked the trunk open, Victoria stamped her feet.

“No! You have to concentrate. Now get in!”

On the way to the University of Oregon, Starfish ran into her pad looking for more info on Professor John von Bond.

“Here’s a stalking report on him. Some chic is trashing his blog. She says it’s real creepy. Let’s have a looksee!”

“Does he say he’s related to me?’

“No, but he claims he is a Comet King, heir to the teaching of Meher Baba!”

“Who’s that? Never mind. We’re here”

Victoria parked haphazardly and put her DIPLOMAT shield in the window. Starfish never went to college. This was her first time on a campus. She took in all the beautiful students. The young women took notice of her, and turned their heads after she passed them. Their was an amazing aura about her. Waves of goosebumps went up and down her half naked body. There was fine mist of perspiration that caught the last light, and were like tiny rainbows. She was electrically charged due to her amazing dancing. However, she was not happy when the beautiful young men did not even look at her. Their heads were down, their eyes locked on their phone screens. At six-two, Starfish wondered if they were intimidated.

Finally, she grabbed one, on his way up river to spawn.

“Excuse me. I couldn’t help but notice your features. Victoria raised her eyebrows when she gently took hold of his chin.

“Very symmetric. I can see your father’s profile. And, you have your mothers high cheekbones. Did you know you are half your mother,and half your father, but, it is through your father… find God. Did you know that?…….I’m going to kiss you now!”

Victoria made a move to prevent this kiss, but, was repelled by a powerful energy field that she put around – them. Tilting his head back, Victoria delivered a soft and sensuous kiss, that froze them in time. His cellphone fell to the walkway, but, did not break. There was a beautiful sigh, that sounded like the opening of Morning Glories.

“You can go, now!” And Starfish watched him swim away. Turning, she stopped in her tracks when she saw Victoria was blushing. Their eyes were locked. She got it. Victoria dreamed of being kissed like that. Star approached, took her hand, and they walked the next hundred yards like this, they a rarity, as holding hands on campus went out of style twenty years ago.

“I was conceived a hundred yards from here. I feel it in my bones! I was made – with much love!”

Empathic Take-Down at PK Park

Posted on July 28, 2018 by Royal Rosamond Press

The Royal Janitor

After the Professors one hour lecture, and after taking him to a Cosmic Dinner at the Bum’s Rush Herbal Salad Bar, Victoria was ready to take in an American baseball Game, and get some R&R. Her mind was turning into silly-putty. She needed to get grounded by doing something totally inane. She could not use her mind one minute more, and, had found following American baseball to be totally relaxing. She ate up pitching and batting statistics like they were vallum and Prozac. She knew where this data had come from, and, where it was going. She compared it to knitting.

Miriam seemed spent after her dance-a-thon. John had put her in her place and came close to 86ing her from his lecture after she challenged him about his credentials. She had her I-pod tuned to her favorite music and was ready to hang for a couple of hours while her partner got her jollies. But, this was not meant to be.

Finding the baseball park nearly empty, they took seats right behind the catcher. The Eugene Emeralds were having a terrible season, and were in the cellar. Starfish’s head was bouncing around like she was in the rear window of a automobile. Then, HE came to the mound, and, she froze. He froze too, in the middle of his wind-up. These were warm-up pitches, or, that would have been a balk. There was her beautiful head, hovering above the umpire. Wow! What a…..Enchantress? Dalton shuddered. No woman had looked at him that way. Does she know me?

Victoria was coming back to her seat with her arms full of popcorn hotdogs, banners, soda-pop, and cracker jacks. She noticed the dead silence, and found the source. Their deep gaze was locked onto one another. If you poured cold water om them, they would not flinch.

“Here! Take some of this!”

Miriam did not hear. When she spotted the program under Victoria’s arm, she yanked at it with a growl!

“What the….?”

“I must know his name! She let out a whimper when she read “Dalton Geekie. Oh my God. What a perfect name. It means Town in the valley – with ‘crag’. “Dalton” she whispered, and then charged into her Music Ap for just the right song – their song!

“It’s here! Thank you Jesus!” Looking up, Starfish crossed herself.

“Play Ball!” the umpire shouted, and when Dalton gave the sign of the cross across his powerful chest, Miriam’s heart went pitter-patter – KERTHUNK!

Victoria had her Em’s cap on backwards, and thought she looked pretty cute. She wanted just a little limelight. It would help if someone noticed her and gave her some flirtation. What she was not ready for, was a Christian Warm-up Mating Ritual – with a raging Psychic Empathic meltdown! Miriam’s words came back to haunt her

“I am forbidden to go to Eugene! But, who gives a shit!”

There should have been some questions asked here. But, now it was too late. Starfish had locked her Victim up in an intuitive mind-probe. As the sad Cellos played ‘As I Walk Alone Down the Road’, the movie of her parents first meeting, began to roll. The blanks were being filled in as the first tears welled in Starfishes eyes.

Her father was a Russian who had a scholarship in track. He was winning every hurdle race he was put in. Warming up, he spotted her, in the bleachers. They had to have one another. When the starter pistol went off, they were under the bleachers, mashing their lips together, ripping away at their sports clothes. When they came at the same time, there was loud cheering. One sperm made it to the finished line, and, Miriam was created.

Almost thrown off the team, Ivan made a pledge to the track coach that he would stay away from that Jezebel. She was banned from the stadium, but, Ivan caught a glimpse of Sarah now and then looking thru the bars of the gate. Their love, was banished! This is how Miriam was going to play it for the next three hours, to Victoria’s utter disgust. The mesh of the backstop did not filter out any of their pathos and lust. It was a profound barrier that multiplied their love – ten fold. This, was a Forbidden Love – the best kind!

“Fuck!” Victoria whispered aloud, knowing she could not be heard above a gallery of unhappy cellos. Or, is she listening to morose Gregorian chants, again?

“My new best friend in a Russian Drama Queen!”

The coach thought about taking Dalton out of the game, but, when Miriam began to sob and wail, the crowd got into it. Victoria buried her head in the stats sheet.


The trademark of an empath is feeling and absorbing other people’s emotions and/or physical symptoms because of their high sensitivities. These people filter the world through their intuition and have a difficult time intellectualizing their feelings. As a psychiatrist and empath myself, I know the challenges of being a highly sensitive person. When overwhelmed with the impact of stressful emotions, empaths may experience panic attacks, depression, chronic fatigue, food, sex, and drug binges, or exhibit many other physical symptoms that defy traditional diagnosis.

Professor John von Bond

Posted on July 28, 2018 by Royal Rosamond Press

The Royal Janitor

When Miriam beheld the people climbing the stairs to the Jordon Schnitzer Museum, she let go of Victoria’s hand, skipped across the grass, and bounded up the steps – four at a time! Her entrance was like Nureyev flying across the stage. She was an escapee from Botticelli’s Primavera. People gasped! They thought she was part of a show. She was the star ballerina and the Constantine Christian Nudist Camp where she was homeschooled. This was her first encounter with an institution of higher learning.

Espying a group of people before a painting down the hall, she was upon them in seven giant steps. Her long arms reached in, and pushed them aside. There was some complaints. But, when they turned to see a goddess with roses in her hair, and with eyes the color of the sea, they parted as she zeroed in.

Everyone’s mouths were now open, like hers was open. They were seeing this painting for the first time through Myriam’s eyes. She came closer. Her long neck was craned, as she made a figure eight with her head. Now she turned sideways, and starting in the lower left corner she moved her eye across the image, slowly, till she reached the up left corner. Bending down again, she moved even closer, and ran her right eye along the work. People were astonished with her. It was a magnificent ballet. Her long arms moved her hands just above the surface as if she was taking the painting in through some kind of osmosis.

“Oh my God! There is a Möbius circle in here – and PI! How did he do this? First he is the self, then he is the audience. He goes into a total intuitive state, does a loop over, then dips down into the subconscious. Now he is walking on the dark side of the moon. There is no hope for his return. His work is surrendered to a higher power who ingnites a spark of divine inspiration! Alas, he bursts forth in The finishing!………It is Finns!

Myriam turns to face her audience. Her blue-green eyes fill with a look of astonishment.

“He is……Co-Creator!”

Around twelve people – burst out in applause!

“How wonderful!”

“I never realized this before!”

“What beauty!”

“She is – so right!”

Like a panther, she left this work and stalked off looking for another. The people moved in a fill the void. They soaked up the energy Myriam left behind. Their eyes had been opened.

Victoria watched her amazing friend, her head was above the rest, as she gazed around from the top of the mountain she had just climbed.

“Come Starfish. We are late!”

Moving into a large room, they got their first look at Mr. von Bond. There was a long leather seat with six people sitting before their Master. Myraim crept up on the seat, pushed two people aside, then sat smack dab in the middle, up front, not but fifteen feet of the old wizard that reminded Myriam of the Russian Saint Nicholas. John was going to give her something valuable – for free! She dared not move lest she be disqualified, deprived of this blessing.

John, was completely unnerved. He had to blink several times, because it was like looking at a photograph, a still life, a breathing portrait, that did not move an inch! This beautiful creature had roses in her hair. She was so completely, so utterly, receptive. And, she was more than wide awake. There was an awaking going on inside her. John von Bond, felt like a work of art. He was, her masterpiece. She, had found him.

Painting “Division of the Roses”

Objects | Interesting | Map

The Vítkovci were among the oldest members of Czech nobility. The first information about them dates from the 12th century, mentioning Vítek of Prčice in 1134. In 1165 he was the senior waiter to King Vladislav I. In 1173 he was the Envoy of the same king to the court of Emperor Friedrich Barbarossa. In 1179 he fought in the battle of Loděnice between the “peasant duke” Soběslav II and another member of the Přemyslovci, Bedřich. Soběslav won the battle, but had to resign because of quarrels with the nobility, and subsequently Bedřich ruled the country. By this time, Witigo was probably a wealthy man and fought for him. In 1184 he became the Count of Prácheň and it is very likely that he used this as the reason to break through to the southern parts of the country that were owned exclusively by Czech dukes.

The Bum’s Rush

Posted on July 28, 2018 by Royal Rosamond Press

The Royal Janitor


John Presco

Everyone who entered the ‘Bum’s Rush’ cafe were bemused by the name. What to name your new restaurant is so very important. Victoria was amused. Myriam was still disgusted with von Bond because he told her a lie.

At the salad bar, John works deftly with that fake silver pincer device, and is grabbing olives that are trying to roll off his plate. He let’s out a moan, when he sees his guests scoop cruisants in a small bowl, and, nothing more.

“I thought I was going to treat you two to a fine dining experience. Chef Maximorphius picks many of his herbs himself, out of his herb garden. The dandelions grow on his front lawn!”

“Nope! We don’t want any of this shit. After we watch you eat, we’re gong to the ballpark to eat junk food. I hope Maxi washed the dog-pee off his dandelions! Why Americans turn their yards into dog bathrooms, is very weird to me.”

John got the message. She was not ready to let it go, his responce to her question as to him being a real Professor, or, a fake Professor. He told her a famous homeless schizophrenic, named, Hatoon, kept calling him that, and the name stuck when others followed suit. In Mryiam’s mind, he was a mansifisation of the false notion that Men are ‘Givers’. In John’s case, the giver of knowledge,

“What do you really do for a living – Professor John?” Myriam asked in the best smart alec manner she could muster, that erased that beautiful receptive face he beheld in rapturous wonder, and replaced it with the face of his – Supreme Accuser! Such is life!

“Well. I was saving the best for last. I name restaurants for a living. Indeed, I named this one! I employed the idea of a Bohemian rebel getting a high from eating authentic food that gives him and her a rush of good nourishment.”

The sound of Myriam snorting the water she just drank, out of her nose, back into her glass, turned heads.”

“What bullshit! Do they sell drugs here?” Turning to her best friend; “Are you just going to sit there and dine on his bullshit!”

Victoria did a quick head dip, and held it – with raised brows! She knew how devastating it was for a male to have a woman be so much on his side, then, on a dime, she is against everything he holds dear. She was going to say she was sorry, but, then Victoria added a slight kick to her best friends ankle. It dug in deep. She felt hurt and betrayed. This, was not going to end well. Indeed, the threesome were on the brink of ‘Dining Hell’.

John cleared his throat.

“Yes. There is a market for this. I am called the Joseph Campbell of the Name Industry. Like Tolkien, I am a name freak.”

“You mean you are a…….?” Victoria started to say, but, Myrian cut in.

“An Etymologist. I am an expert etymologist. I know twice as much as you can possibly know, because I am an expert in Russian dialects. Do you speak Russian. That said, she tilted her head back, showed John her nostrils from which blew a cold Siberian wind. Then, she gave him a Cold, Dead, Fish Eye!”

John shuddered. During the lecture he had caught something, someone, lurking behind that fresh inquisitive face. Now, that voice was louder.

“I can kill you – just like that! I can grab your head, so, and snap your vertebrae. Why did you use the word –  schizophrenic?”

It was Victoria’s turn to clear her throat in a completely phony way, and Myriam shot her head her way – and gave her The Fish Eye!

‘Oh! You are on his side, now? Why did you kick me so hard. That really hurt!”

That remark was utterly ignored, but, it sucked the good vibes out of the air, that strangers were enjoying. Peace – is practiced here! Some wizened ears tuned in.

“So, tell me more about how the Viking Panzer Division came upon the empress Zita’s bedroom.” Victoria piped in with an Ol Topic Changer.

“The Waffen SS recruited Nordic fighters from the Viking countries they had conquered. Good Patriots, who had fought the invasion of the Nazi, were now eager to invade their old enemy………Mother Russia. Many progressive Bohemian types, were transformed into stone cold killers. Even devout Christians forsake their upbringing in order to go on what a amounted to a Nazi Crusade against Bolshevism!

“You are a fucking liar!” Myriam snarled. Christians would never forsake Christ like that. Why are you telling lie after lie? After being caught in one lie, you then told another, as if the game of truth-telling has been called – due to lying!”

“And – YOU! You encourage it. I watch you two. You play this easy game of Liar’s Tennis. He lobs you a soft lie, and you lob it back! ”


Mryiam is on her feet, glaring down at John – with two forks in her hand!

Where did she get two forks. I didn’t see her get a fork. I didn’t get a fork. Victoria said to herself. Then, comes a serenade of old fucks clearing their throats. Looking around, several old dudes are wearing tie-dye. Two got a psychedelic Peace sign on their t-shirt. Is that a hologram of Jerry Garcia?


“Ah! How much did you say you got for naming this place?”

“Five grand! I have made as much as ten grand!” John offered, his eyes glued to the forks, that were released from Myriam’s powerful grip. Sitting down, she leaned foreword and looked at John – dead in the eyes!

“Are you shitting me?”

“No! No I’m not. Hitler paid the guy who came up with NAZI ten grand, which is about $200,000 thousand in today’s money. It is the most recognized brand name in the world, after………”


“The Peace sign, is No.3”

“This might not be correct. I read……………..”

Victoria excused herself and went into the bathroom to call BAD.

“What do you have on John Bond?”

“Not much, but for his desrire tto shoot Billy Graham when he emerged from that tunnel in the L.A. Coliseum with his two bodyguards. He was sixteen.”

“Really! Was he an Oswald copycat wanna-be?”

“No, this was eight months before the Kennedy assassination. In his first girlfriends biography, John accused Billy of using teenage erections to extort money out of their parents, in what he titled Holy Blackmail. He saw the whole con after his girlfriend’s mother forced him to go to four Crusades. He says it was a case of Penis and Vagina Shaming aimed at the parents of virginal teens, who conceived many children out of wedlock. Graham was telling 50,000 people in that stadium God sees all and knows all. Then he talked about Bobby wanting to put his teen boner, in Sally’s teen vagina. It comes natural, Billy said. We are all born sinners. Best get the kids down on the fields while the 5,000 person choir sings ‘Jesus I Come’. Of course the parents are putting a lot of pressure to go down. John refused, and his girlfriend’s mother refused to let him see her daughter.”

“So, this is why he wanted to shoot Mr. Graham?”

“No! He wanted too shoot him – before the mother threatened to call the cops!”

“He must have told his girlfriend.”

“Yep! She says, he wanted to save the world from Graham and his Mass Shaming Racket!”

“Interesting. Put that in my JFK file, and google Billy and Jack.”

“On August 18, 1960, with Kennedy showing unexpected strength, Graham convened a meeting in Montreux Switzerland, far from the media and prying eyes. Among the invited guests was Dr. Norman Vincent Peale, whose 1952 book The Power of Positive Thinking is still a bestseller today. Peale was also a notorious Catholic hater.

Read More: Why hasn’t there been a Catholic president since JFK? 

In all, about 25 Protestant leaders took part, with Graham leading the discussion.”

When Victoria emerged from the bathroom, Mryiam held up a bottle, and shouted;

“Look what I’m drinking………ZIG-ZAG BEER!”


“Check out this label. This is John’s idea. This is the Zig-Zag Man. He got $20,000 grand for this, because the label is going world-wide. Zig-Zag is in the brewery business. They started right here. In Eugene!”

“And!” piped John. “We both came to the conclusion, the No.1 symbol in the world, is THE DOLLAR $IGN! Can you dig it?”

Victoria offered her infamous cheap fake smile, that concealed a real concern about Myriam even touching a bottle of booze. Being such a powerful empath. this never failed to summon the spirit of a very nasty Russian merchant ship captain, who tells anyone who will listen, he ass-raped a hundred sailors who his motley crew had shanghaied.

“Taking a seat, she refrains from kicking John in the nuts, under the table.

“Gee! I leave you alone for ten minutes, and you cop-out on me!”

“What does cop-out mean? Are you going to tell me, or, am I going to have to tie you to a barrel and let my crew butt-fuck you all the way to China!”


bum’s rush. Forcible ejection, abrupt dismissal. For example, When Henry started shouting, the bouncer gave him the bum’s rush, or Within hours of being fired, Alice was given the bum’s rush. This idiom uses bum in the sense of “a vagrant or tramp.” [ Slang; early 1900s]

Starfish Meets Calvin Klein

Posted on January 31, 2021 by Royal Rosamond Press

The Royal Janitor


John Presco

Starfish was in serious denial as to why she suddenly became so concerned about how her bodyguard dressed. Miriam Starfish saw her coming a mile off, and played her like Hemmingway played with his great fish. Yes, she was deeply hurt that Victoria did not accept her for who she is – even though she was acting out of jealousy. Oh how our most precious being emerges on to these faux stages. We are never more dramatic then when we know we are inventing things, making it all up. All love stories begin, thus.

“O.K. I’ll play along. I’ll be as phony as can be. I’ll go on that date, even though I just resigned myself to live like a fifteenth century Russian Monk.”

Miriam’s Mood Swings

Posted on September 17, 2019 by Royal Rosamond Press

The Royal Janitor


John Presco

Copyright 2018

It can be said Miriam is always experiencing mood swings, but several days after she and Victoria returned from Eugene Oregon, her mood had taken a turn for the worse.

“I hate my room. I need to be relocated. My accommodations are not austere enough. I need an environment that is more, severe.”

“Didn’t we go through this when your were hired? You saw all the rooms at Osborne, and settled on the chore girl’s room. Didn’t you measure it? Is the bed – too big?”

“Stop patronizing me. I know the story of Goldylicks.”

“That’s – locks!”

“Whatever! I have studied Osborne House. The chore girls were sluts. They didn’t last long. They got pregnant in a year. I feel like I’m living in a whore house.I’m a good Christian girl.”

“Well! Aren’t we picky. How about the boiler room?”

“Show me!”

It was love at first sight! Miriam shrieked when she saw the old army cot.

“Is this – mine?”

“Ahh – yes. The boiler man uses it when there is boiler trouble and he has to spend the night.”

“Is he an old guy?”


“Tell him he can have my old room.”


Well, the boiler guy was not told anything, and when he came to make his weekly check on his boiler, there was Miriam laying naked on his cot staring up at the monograms on the boiler. She had an earplug in that broadcast tinny music and the news report from he crystal radio set she made. The boiler guy studied her long lithe form lit by Miriam’s kerosene lamp. A wave of jealousy swept over him. This is how he longed to live, but, then he would not find the right person to live with him. And…..there she be!

“I deserve you!” The boiler man said in a haunting voice. Miriam jumped up, and was ready to pounce. The old man saw the fire of the furnace between her long legs. her eyes were ablaze.

“Thank you. I will be going now!”

Miriam lay back down on her cot. A man had just seen her naked in Osborne House. She went back to studying the monogram, and let out a quite whimper because she was mind-blind to monograms. She could not fathom them, see the letters.

“Why?” she asked. Miriam was talking to herself, and it was noticed. Victoria summoned her to her office.

“Miriam. It has come to my attention you are talking to yourself.”

“Did that old fuck say something?”

“If you are talking about the boiler guy, he quit. You really stressed him out. I might have to ask you to wear more clothes.”

“Good! I want his job!” Miriam asked, and Victoria was relieved a fight over her dress had been avoided another day.

“You got it. No need to tell me you studied-up.”

“Did you know twenty percent of the boilers in the great estate were maintained by The Dorchester Orion Amalgamate. Union members wear the belt of Orion. The Romans commissioned them to supply wood for their baths throughout England. They are way older than the Catholic church. My menstrual cycles are affected by Orion’s Belt.

“Really!” Victoria said, and sucked in some air through her gritted teach. She was not in the mood for more strange Communist cosmologies that developed behind the Iron Curtain in the 50s. “Miriam. I think it would be best that you go out, more often. No, that was bullshit. Miriam, you need a social life. Your moods have soured. If you were a feline, I would buy a cat for you to play with. You are in need of a companion. We have found someone your age who will play with you. We do not want you hitting the pick-up bars. You don’t take rejection well.”

“Are you paying her to play with me?”

“No – yes! She’s a professional model, and, her whole life is dedicated to her craft. Models are always, on. Even when asleep.”

“How do you know she will get along with me?”

“We don’t. Thiis is why we thought it best she be on the payroll.”

“May I ask, who “we” is? Have you, and the others, been spying on me?” With that question, Miriam turned her back, but not before Miriam shot Victoria a very lethal look. Now her boss felt all the cylinders of her fury being ignited.

“Gulp! Did I just tell my deadly bodyguard I am paying someone to play with her. What kind of asshole am I? I’m – dead! I deserve to die.”

Miram gripped the handle on her desk drawer where she hept her required weapon. But, Mirriam turned, and was wearing a bright happy look!”

“What’s her name. I can’t wait to meet her! This will be so much fun!”

“Ah….Let me see!” Victoria flipped through her notes. “Her name is Barbazanya! I want you to take a week off in order to get know each other.”

“What a beautiful name! I will send you pics!”

Then one day, Nattitude announced

“Hey – look! I just got some pics of Miriam. Come look!”

Victoria rushed over feeling a pang of jealousy.

“She was supposed to be sending me pics!” Victoria gasped. “Oh my God! Is this our Miriam? She looks so – artificial! That’s Barbazanya? She’s gorgeous! What!? Miriam won a string bikini contest? I told her not to model!”

“Yeah! But, you didn’t tell her she couldn’t enter a beauty contest. You got to be specific. My thirteen years old daughter can bend light around corners.”

“Why does Barbazanya have her arm draped over Miriam’s leg? She not writing. She’s just pretending. What the?”

“Their posing.” Nattitude said. ‘They’re posing for you.”


“They want to make you jealous. How many girlfriends did you have growing up?”

“None!………What a phony!”

Nattitude cleared her throat, ever so slightly, then, put her Rubic’s Cube down on her desk. She was done figuring this one out.

“Look at that – baby face! Those are pouting baby lips! Barbazanya has taken her cute little baby to the beach wearing her baby bonnet! What is this, stuff? Who shot these pics? These aren’t selfies. This is professional eroticism for women – only! Do men look at these magazines, Nattitude? Do black women have similar magazines? Why haven’t I seen this before?”

“Hey, leave me out of this! The answers are, no, and no!” Nattitude looked at her computer screen to avoid seeing Victoria home-in on those baby bee-stung lips, that are very popular. Many women desire to own lips like this, and spend millions on plastic surgery.

“Looks like we have a hot commodity working for us! Barbazanya should be paying us!”

When Miriam got back from vacation, she was curt. She never made eye contact with her boss. Then, Miriam came to work with her underwear showing. The button on her jeans was undone. She read ‘Calvin Klein’. Fashion World had invaded the headquarters of BAD. Victoria felt her heart drop – in a deep plunge into pure jealousy. Barbazanya had done a Calvin Klein layout  that was on T.V.. These were – her underwear!

You bitch……Victoria said under her crimson blush. You paid me back. You’re telling me she owns you, now! You are her little slut, now!

Miriam stood at Victoria’s desk, rubbing it in. She leaned foreword and pressed her mound of Venus against her boss’s desk.

“You wanted to ask me something?”‘

“Yes. I don’t want you walking around the office with your underwear hanging out. I understand this look is sweeping the fashion world, but, we………..”

“O.K. Anything else?”

“Yes. I don’t want you to see Barbazanya again.”

“You got it!”

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Miriam’s Tree House

Posted on September 17, 2019 by Royal Rosamond Press

The Royal Janitor


John Presco

Copyright 2019

One can conclude the best thing about being in love, is contemplating – if you have fallen in love! As Victoria lie in her bed, frozen in a strange wave of eroticism, she was forced to consider if her subordinate had come onto her, made a very obvious pass at her.  She could not get the sight of her Calvin Klein panties out of her mind. Victoria felt her heat transmitted though he oak desk. This was so – forbidden! But, then came her words;

“You got it!”

Victoria felt her stomach muscle constrict. She had a powerful desire to touch herself. Then she violently threw that thought aside. In it’s pace was the idea she had been seduced by a human being. This was a major move in Victoria’s chessboard. A whole new world had collided with her singular world. Instant trade agreements were now on the horizon. The idea of intimately sharing ones existence with another, had never happened to Victoria. This possibility superseded all sexual desire – and sent Victoria soaring into the cosmos! Her heart was pounding. When she realized Miriam had come to this place before her, and was waiting for her – to arrive – was beyond compare. This waiting, this, longing is a great teacher, that imparts the finest ideas, ideals we will ever know. But, this realization is cloaked in our sexual being, that we are compelled to come to terms with.

Victoria studied Miriam’s face. She had resigned herself to her fate.

Oh my God………she loves me! She has fallen in love with me. Being around Barbazanya was the preamble to the world that awaited her, that had already arrived. Is this a case of – love at first sight? Did they fall in love with each other in the first seconds of their meeting? There is my cellphone. Call her…….in the lonely boiler room!

Victoria turned on her stomach, grabbed her pillow hard, and buried her head and breasts in it. She then let out this strange sound, and raised her hips ever so slightly. Everything is possible! It is all permitted!

Victoria arrived early for work. Sitting behind her desk she could not contain herself. Soon she will be seeing Miriam’s beautiful flat abdomen, with that incredible belly button. Then she heard the sharp approach of heals coming down the hall. When she saw Miriam, she gasped, then, felt sick to her stomach.

Miriam was wearing a black skirt and white blouse buttoned to the top. She had on white socks that highlighted he clunky black nurses shoes with a thick heal. Her hair was put in a tight bun. From the side Miriam looked at Victoria. Her eyes were puffy. She had been crying. She had not slept well.

Victoria felt a powerful tingling. What have I done? She wanted to go an embrace Miriam, and reassure her, tell her…….I know. But Miriam’s superior intuition had already discovered Victoria’s secret that was just sixteen hours old. Here was the other have of the events…..when worlds collide…….that are extremely complex.

Suppressing a sob, Victoria got up to pour herself a cup of coffee. She had to pass Miriam sitting at he desk. Coming back to her desk, her hand was shaking. she was spilling coffe on the white carpet. Then……….she fainted!

The next day the gardener told Nattitude that he found a trail of clothing leading to one of the cork oaks Prince Alpert had planted. Looking up, he saw Miriam working on her tree house. She couldn’t go back to the boiler room. She had outgrown it. She had outgrown everything. Here in her tree, she could nurse, she could caress, her love for Victoria. Miriam was love sick.

Victoria was grateful she had fainted. She had dressed all wrong. Now she had a chance to run to her room, as Miriam ran to her room, crying. She had spilled coffee on her Bohemian Gypsy dress that exposed her perfectly flat abdomen. She was wearing a Spanish halter top. Did she own a pair of castanets? Ripping her work uniform off the hanger, she pulled her tight skirt up. Did she own a pair of Calvin Klien shorts for women? Digging into her drawers, she came up empty. She did find the top half of her Betty Page erotica outfit. She loved the pointed bra look that hooked many a man in the fifties and early sixties. Now she was at her mirror putting on bright red lipstick. Should she wear her pearls? No. Button her blouse to the top button matched Miriams meassage, saying their Days of Whine and Roses, was over. The truth was, they had just begun!

Coming back into the common work area, Victoria caught Miriam’s eye, and wouldn’t let go. She bent down to pick up the earring she just dropped.

“Oh, here it is. I thought I lostit!”

Nattitude watched Miriam take it all in. The days of Tight Buns and Pointed Tits had begun. Victoria had her hair in a tight bun, and, was giving her co-worker a good look at her profile. Het tits were way out to – here! Miriam had to get a bra like that. Victoria couldn’t wait for the clock to strike five s she could buy a couple pair of Calvin Kleins. She just missed Mirriam coming out of the Betty Page shop.

The sexual tension in the office that morning – was fierce! It was an erotic fencing contest between two women. Nattitude called her husband just before lunch.

“I love you darling!”

“Is anything wrong? I can tell by your voice something is going down. Are you in any danger? Shall I come over?”

“Ahhh………no!……….Are you two breaking for lunch? (click)”

Her co-workers did not hear. There ears were inflamed, engorged with blood. Both were panting like bloodhounds. Who’s going to jump on whom? It was like ‘The Battle of Britain’. The sound of the Buzz-bomb made everyone tense. As long as your heard the buzzing, everyone was safe. Their pussies, were buzzing. Have they no shame?

Then, it happened. Miriam moved down the hall to the fax room, like a great cat. Victoria took in every muscle of her glutamus maximus. Putting her hand on the doorknob, Miriam Wild Woman turned her head slowly, sand gave her boss…..The Look!

Victoria would like to think she got around her desk in a graceful manner, but, Nattitude describes it to her husband, like this;

“Have you seen videos of The Running of the Bulls? You see this dude come barreling around the corner because a bull is right on his ass. Then, when your think he’s going to get gored, the bull slips on the cobblestone! Victoria was like that bull. She knocked a bunch of shit off her desk, and tipped over the printer table. She didn’t every notice! Hardy! Har! Har!”

Natitude’s husband did not laugh, because he had heard too much office talked about Miriam, that was supposed to stay in the office. He had two nightmares about her.

What she had given Victoria was The Look of Complete Receptiveness that had repopulated the planet – many times over! One of the two have to give this look, or, we would not exist as a species. Victoria thought she would be the receptive one, due to Miriam fierce aggressiveness. The realization that she would tame the tiger, get her to raise her tail for her, was like scoring a knock-out with a upper cut. Ms. Bond had a raging boner for her beloved bodyguard.

When Victoria put her hand the knob, it was hot to the touch. Throwing the door open quickly, she shit it even more quickly. She had crossed the threshold. The fax room was filled with flames. From Miriam’s solar plexus shot these waves of blue flames that came to caress Victoria, and pull her close.  Then there were these green eyes that looked at Victoria like a panther in the forest.

Panting, not able to catch her breath, Victoria let go with the agreement she had been rehearsing for four days.

“I’ll show you my Calvin Klein’s, if you show me yours?”

“We are victims of a very successful Branding campaign.” said Victoria. “Now, turn around!”

When Nattitude came to work the next day, she opened the front door, tentavly. Things were in disarray, out of place.

They done slicked up my work space!” Nattitude said with a tisk. “They done played nasty in tere!”

Victoria did not say good morning to Nattitude, because she only had eyes for Miriam, who was in the little girl’s room. Victoria had ordered a huge bouquet of flowers. Next to the vase was an envelope containing the poem she whipped out for………her lover. Instead of the sexual tension, subsiding, it was now a British Air-raid Siren that you could feel for miles,

To be continued.

About Royal Rosamond Press

I am an artist, a writer, and a theologian.
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1 Response to The New Cultural Warfront

  1. Reblogged this on Rosamond Press and commented:

    Peter DeFazio is calling it quits. Is it because of radical Democrats, especially that Latino woman?

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