You don’t ever want to get on the dark side of Starfish. Victoria had seen it on the day she was interviewed for the job of being her bodyguard. This, scariness, was a good thing, but, now that they were lovers, she had second thoughts – especially after Miriam got shit-faced on one Zig Zag Beer. What the fuck!
John Von John is very excited about this royal discovery that he wants to keep away from Victory Bond, and – that drunken bitch!
Starfish Drinks Zig Zag Beer
Posted on August 20, 2018 by Royal Rosamond Press
I debated about Miriam Starfish using force to put down Maximorphius, the cook and owner of ‘The Bum’s Rush’ bistro in Eugene. My subconscious altered the name of Max’s Tavern, which is around the corner from The Bum’s Rush. Miriam Starfish almost skewers Professor John Bond, a name that is a conjunction of John Dee and James Bond, I just discovered. She has a love-hate relationship with John (played by me) who give a lecture on the Habsburg painting and – the Division of the Roses! What!!!!!!! I have yet to write that lecture – that is now the key to my book!
The Bum’s Rush is now going to have a house band ‘The Scunnered’. They are Scottish Wanna-bes who dress like Scottish Pirates. Their chief is McHook. In truth they are Russian Army officers trying to kidnap Phil Knight and replace his tennis shoes on the world market with a Russian brand. Bad Boys will be Bad Boys, but, their mission is changed after coming in contact with Victoria Bond.
Myriam Starfish goes berserk after drinking one bottle of Zig-Zag Beer. After the lecture she got her hair done on 13th. John Bond had altered her life, but, did not want him to know it. She never had a mentor before. She wanted to get rid of her old fashioned look. She felt she had graduated. She wanted to put her savage ways behind her.
My first message and lesson to Yulia Rose got me banned from her Instagram.
“You are much more beautiful with your mouth, shut. Don’t overdo that cutesy bee-stung lip thing. It looks like your catching flies! You’re a woman, not a toddler.”
I knew I was on target when I read about Alec Baldwin and telling his daughter “No”. Scary shit. More tension then the wreck of a speeding locomotive. the best way to describe my Bond book, is, it is a Apocalyptic Comedy. I’m sure it feels like The End when you go on line and see your daughter’s big ass staring you in the face. Alec would make a great Bond character!
Dr. Just…..No
Just No will be Victoria’s suave stalker. His daughter is leaking info to No so he can be there when she goes out to dinner. He brings a new date each time to make her jealous. No is sure Bond is eyeing him, checking out his moves. You will see him lurking in the background. When Victoria goes to the small room, the camera pans in. His dates are always a disaster!
“What is your name again?” she asked, the hair atop her head bristling more than usual.
“No……..Just…….No!” Alex Worthington Dodge the third replied with an eager stare.
“Are you refusing to tell me your name? Come again?”
“No! ………Doctor……Just No!”
“Are you an old fuck doing your best to be rude?”
“You’re a freaken freak, a friggen piggish witch! Are you an imbecile – too?”
“Now you’re talking! I have a thing for abusive men. Let’s go to your room!”
“Now – your’re talking!”
John Presco 007
Copyright 2018
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Apocalypse
Ireland Baldwin/Instagram; Getty ImagesMaria PasquiniAugust 19, 2018 11:25 AM
Even the most supportive dad can experience some discomfort when his daughter strikes a pose for the camera.
After his daughter Ireland Baldwin posted a sexy snap of herself on Saturday, it didn’t take long before Alec Baldwin hopped into the comments section to share his take on the picture.
In the image, the 22-year-old model — who posed nude for PETA earlier this year — leans forward on top of a motorcycle while wearing a black bra with a matching pair of bottoms.
“No. Just… No,” the 60-year-old actor bluntly wrote in response to the shot.
Commenting on the over-the-top nature of the photo herself, Ireland captioned the image, “Stay extra.”
Professor John von Bond
Posted on July 28, 2018by 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.
The Bum’s Rush
Posted on July 28, 2018by Royal Rosamond Press
The Royal Janitor
by
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! ”
“IT IS IMPPOSSBILE FOR CHRSTIANS TO TELL LIES. TAKE IT BACK – YOU FAT FUCK! YOU HAVE NO IDEA OF THE TROUBLE YOU JUST GOT YOURSELF INTO!”
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?
Fuck!
“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………”
“Cross!”
“The Peace sign, is No.3”
“This might not be correct. I read……………..”
https://www.quora.com/What-is-the-most-recognizable-symbol-in-the-world
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!”
Fuck!
“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!”
Shit!
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]
Rosamond Press 