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Jumpin' Jehosaphat clanked down the hall

  • Jumpin' Jehosaphat clanked down the hall at midnight. J.J. was a cat with a cast in a house that was all halls. He loved this mischievousness, frightening the kids into thinking
  • of the old folk tales surrounding the household, although few people truly believed them. Legend had it that
  • if you paced counter-clockwise three times on the widow's walk and looked at the sea at the brink of sunset and held aloft a piece of wool roving and said 'his' name backwards then
  • 'he' would think you're a right nana. Just send 'him' a text saying you're willing to participate in rituals of a dodgy nature and 'he''ll send you a welcome pack with complimentar
  • y "Owl Pass". My friend thought this was all a joke but I fretted about it all night. I couldn't sleep, until ninjas gassed me and I woke up at the altar in Bohemian Grove. This
  • Bohemian Grove had cliffs made of bongos and a forest of microphone stands. It had a meadow of berets and a cheap table wine pond. There was a tribe of beatniks living in the
  • Cottage next door, including Allen Ginsburg and Jack Kerouac. The legendary acid tripping was in the headlines, causing my parents to groan with disgust. I never did any drugs!
  • I never had to. My parents had done so many drugs that I was born stoned, and continue to be such. So I dropped in on Allen and Jack with a neighborly plate of brownies with which
  • I had captured three demons from the 5th Hell's External Infernal courts. I had the foresight to sell only souls of Trump supporters, never for a second anticipating how many the
  • re would be who knew about demonology and would be able to even from the other side exact revenge. Eternity as a proctologist for fat bastard became daunting. Rats!

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