Do you think I might be standing in Satans doorway? This really happened to me: One All Hallows Eve, when I was playing the White Album backwards (Why Dont We Do It in the Road and Helter Skelter*), high on LSD and reading Harry Potter while floating three feet above the ground and watching a Twilight movie via satellite-linkup with my vampire and werewolf friends (just the Virgos and Geminis) and Shirley MacLaine, eating Tofurkey, playing Donkey Kong, and discussing the lack of metanarrative in Tolkien, our Ouija board tipped, spilling all our tarot cards onto my copy of Neuromancer (the one autographed by Henry Kissinger). Suddenly, Senses Working Overtime came on the radio, so we had another toke and started doing that Basil Pennington thing. When the vampire missed his saving roll (which was inevitable given the length of the life line on his left hand), he got mad and stuck a pin in his doll of Joseph Smith (the one with the white pancake makeup, black nail polish, and saffron robes). Goddess! he swore, as Like a Virgin began to play. Give me that forked stick; Im going to go look for something to drink. But he came back with a shrunken head, a rosy cross, and a copy of Dianetics. By then Dreamweaver was playing, and the werewolf was studying the unfinished pyramid on the back of the one-dollar bill. A knock came at the door, and it was the Witch of Endor, walking on fire, reading the Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers, waving a Jolly Roger, and talking to Moses or Noah or somebody like that. The radio was now playing Homme Brûlant. The doorbell rang, and when the witch opened it, I heard a voice say, Hi, Id like to talk to you about my lord and savior Anton LaVey. The witch slammed the door and joined us in the air. Wrong number, she said. *generally considered the first heavy metal song according to my son who knows these things
Posted on: Sun, 19 Jan 2014 06:35:51 +0000
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