I have killed many people over the years; too many to put a number on, I’ve lost count. The first, I remember like it was yesterday, I was eight-years-old, he was in high school, I don’t know why he picked on me, but on the fifth day of him stopping me on my way home from school, when I was sure nobody was watching, I plunged a linoleum knife into the soft spot between his rib cage, I pulled the hooked blade down to his groin and my hand was warmed with what once was inside of him—it was no longer his, it was mine. As he fell to his knees, I stepped around his back, reached around his neck and cut his throat. Since that day, I’ve killed to protect myself, I’ve killed for financial gain and I’ve killed for pleasure. And under these categories I have killed every type of person, while I prefer the bully, the big shot, the alpha male most of all, I have equally destroyed the young, the old, the female, because I am a killer, I kill. Every moment, of every day, I desire nothing more than to unchain my true self and pulverize into lifelessness, that which stands before me and breathes. Continue reading
As I sat and pondered All Hallows Eve, a dark cloud descended on my soul, mournful sorrow its only goal. And then the ghost of my porch stood silently and stared, urging me to ponder further if I dared. So I searched the deepest reaches of my mind, waiting for this skeleton jackal to opine. Finally this pirate long dead spoke, “The remedy to your doom and gloom is a party on this particular date, that would be a party at Iron Gate.”
“Yes, a Halloween Party!” I shouted out to nobody at all. Then dreamed of the days past at The Monsters Ball.
Few days to the fright of night, few days til Poe’s delight. Do you hear Iron Gate calling, do you feel yourself falling, falling into your doomed fate, Halloween night at Iron Gate?
To men of analytical persuasion does Halloween make sense? To men of genius tis a night of recompense. Why? Because genius is found in the imagination, dark a place as it may be, you’ll need to come to Iron Gate to speak more of this with me!
True it is of sightings of apparitions at the house with gates of iron, “And thou art dead as young and fair,” haunts the words of Great Lord Byron. Will the spirit of this noble poet join our Mr. Poe? Attendance at All Hallows Eve at Iron Gate, is the only way to know. To know about love lost, at such a cost, that souls are left to wander, sad, sad it is a Halloween to squander.
The rooms have been occupied and we have served food and libations galore, but all who can count, know it well that it’s only hours til the night that we adore. Now there are those who want something for nothing, America’s truly great foe, so if kids want candy at Iron Gate, they’re going to listen to Mr. Poe!!! ha, ha, ha, ha!!! Continue reading
So last we left off I had just left the Michael Jackson “This Is It” premier at the Palms / Brenden Theatre. And I was feeling the terrible effects of the bite from the zombie girl that I had, had sex with in the bathroom at Mickie Finnz…And the ghost of Howard Hughes had given me some troubling advice as I drove to meet Jessie “James Super VIP Host” Gibson who was helping Nightlife Marketing Guru Alicia decorate Cherry Nightclub at the Red Rock Casino…
“This is Stan?” Alicia asked Jessie, as I strolled up to Cherry, which was in the process of getting a large pair of fangs over its entrance—to give it the proper atmosphere for the upcoming Halloween Fang Banger’s Ball.
“Yeah,” responded Jessie.
“He’s hot for a middle aged writer.”
I took her hand and kissed it. “Flattery and money will get you everywhere with me. What would you like me to review?” I gesticulated toward my own finely tailored double-breasted suit. “I was at a movie premiere thus the suit…Otherwise I’ve been dressing more casual so as to fit in and get good stories…Fly on the wall kind of thing…But it hasn’t been working.”
“You look a little pale. Are you feeling okay?” asked Jessie.
“We need to talk, I need your help.”
Jessie nodded toward the club. “We have the whole bar to ourselves.”
This of course made me forget about all of my problems!!! Moments later with a Jack and Diet in hand I tried to think of a subtle way to explain my strange pallor.
“Remember the zombie girl I had sex with in the bathroom while I was on a first date with Roxy?”
Jessie nodded. And Alicia laughed and said, “I loved that blog!”
I sighed. “Everyone did. But she bit me and now I’ve got zombie fever.”
“That’s not good,” said Jessie, probably wishing James “Hollywood Deal Maker” Westbrook hadn’t asked him to look after me while I stayed in Las Vegas indefinitely.
“It gets weirder,” I continued, “the ghost of Howard Hughes was just riding shotgun with me in the Benz and he said the only cure is to seduce a married midget—otherwise I’m a zonbie—f*ck, I can’t believe this happened. Everyone else just gets herpes and I get this.”
Alicia just giggled, clearly realizing that Jessie wasn’t’ kidding when he told her he had never met anyone quite like me.
“Stan do you think the fact that you’ve only slept nine hours in the last seven days might have something to do with all of this.”
I pulled up my sleeve and showed him my see through skin and fluorescent veins.
“Wooooo,” said Jessie, as he stared at evidence of my rapidly changing state.
“Do something,” said Alicia, no longer giggling.
“Okay, no big deal, I’m a VIP host I can make anything happen in this town. Why not this? How long did the ghost of Howard Hughes say that you have?”
“He didn’t, but I don’t think too long.”
“Look it’s Halloween all weekend. I’ll just invite a bunch of midget couples to our table at Prive…I’m sure you can take it from there.” Continue reading