The General Musings of Falkie2013 (George Senda, The Guy From Pittsburgh)

[area51drone]

If he isn't having an emergent event 911 is completely the wrong choice. The ER for an eye infection that isn't causing blindness is the wrong choice. Not that falkie gives a shit about appropriate care.

Would I call 911?  No.   But you and I both know George probably believes he might go blind because of this.    It's killing him, it's very painful.

[Yorkshire pud]

“Speaking of Kathy, as I often do, I’m not happy today. She broke my giant, uh, plush George Noory mustache and then told me I can glue it back on . . . I’m gonna have to figure out how to fix this or go get another one.”

Needle and thread is far too advanced for his little mind to fathom.

[Yorkshire pud]

Would I call 911?  No.   But you and I both know George probably believes he might go blind because of this.    It's killing him, it's very painful.

Oh that's a shame. No really it is. It isn't killing him though. Being vastly overweight and continuing to stuff his face with food is killing him, not a dicky eye.

[3OctaveFart]

Recent cable from Falkie:

My eye problem is NOT pink eye. Without having examined me ( Jan 8th doctor's appointment ) they think I have dry eye but I don't. Heavy weeping of left eye with some in right eye, severe swelling of left eye with some kind of white discharge, severe burning in both eyes, severe pain in left eye which at times has pain in eyeball that feels like someone shoves an icepick in the center of my eyeball and it radiates to the back of my skull. Yesterday we were in the car and I got one of those spikes, screamed from the pain & doubled over and put my fist on the eye to try to stop the pain.
Adding to that is severe lower back pain along lower spine and across lower length of back from <>.
Came home and took 3 200 mg Motrin and immediately passed out and slept solidly for 10 hours.
Eyes also merge vision into one spot and then blur everything or I can't see at all.
This is why I have not been sleeping of late.
Last week eye pain lasted 18 straight hours of non stop flaming agony.
I tend to wake up about 4 am and do videos or work on IPad.
Sleep hours are irregular.
Will get eye medication next week and new keyboard.
Wrist also hurts at times. Carpal tunnel ?
Cat video was a test to see if video would record properly.
Bellgab video had problem at the exact time I started talking about Casio.
He's been leaving threats on my You Tube channel.
Very weird.
Will have to re-record it once I can see things better and have new keyboard.
Got 4 books ( hb !) for a buck yesterday.
One on history of Trump family.
One Dick Morris book I didn't have.
One on the myth of man made global warming.
And one biography on a big time Chicago day trader.
Going to go get more next week.
Have a great and Happy Christmas !


Feel free to print.

[area51drone]

FIFY

No,  you didn't.

[Yorkshire pud]

Recent cable from Falkie:

My eye problem is NOT pink eye. Without having examined me ( Jan 8th doctor's appointment ) they think I have dry eye but I don't. Heavy weeping of left eye with some in right eye, severe swelling of left eye with some kind of white discharge, severe burning in both eyes, severe pain in left eye which at times has pain in eyeball that feels like someone shoves an icepick in the center of my eyeball and it radiates to the back of my skull. Yesterday we were in the car and I got one of those spikes, screamed from the pain & doubled over and put my fist on the eye to try to stop the pain.
Adding to that is severe lower back pain along lower spine and across lower length of back from <>.
Came home and took 3 200 mg Motrin and immediately passed out and slept solidly for 10 hours.
Eyes also merge vision into one spot and then blur everything or I can't see at all.
This is why I have not been sleeping of late.
Last week eye pain lasted 18 straight hours of non stop flaming agony.
I tend to wake up about 4 am and do videos or work on IPad.
Sleep hours are irregular.
Will get eye medication next week and new keyboard.
Wrist also hurts at times. Carpal tunnel ?
Cat video was a test to see if video would record properly.
Bellgab video had problem at the exact time I started talking about Casio.
He's been leaving threats on my You Tube channel.
Very weird.
Will have to re-record it once I can see things better and have new keyboard.
Got 4 books ( hb !) for a buck yesterday.
One on history of Trump family.
One Dick Morris book I didn't have.
One on the myth of man made global warming.
And one biography on a big time Chicago day trader.
Going to go get more next week.
Have a great and Happy Christmas !


Feel free to print.

For someone who has an eye problem, he's quite good at typing his business. Which is none of his business of course. But he managed to get the screams in, that's good. He needs to develop that until someone actually gives a fuck. Maybe he should be introduced to kids with terminal illnesses who have every right to scream but don't. He's a pathetic shit.

[area51drone]

Recent cable from Falkie:

My eye problem is NOT pink eye. Without having examined me ( Jan 8th doctor's appointment ) they think I have dry eye but I don't. Heavy weeping of left eye with some in right eye, severe swelling of left eye with some kind of white discharge, severe burning in both eyes, severe pain in left eye which at times has pain in eyeball that feels like someone shoves an icepick in the center of my eyeball and it radiates to the back of my skull. Yesterday we were in the car and I got one of those spikes, screamed from the pain & doubled over and put my fist on the eye to try to stop the pain.
Adding to that is severe lower back pain along lower spine and across lower length of back from <>.
Came home and took 3 200 mg Motrin and immediately passed out and slept solidly for 10 hours.
Eyes also merge vision into one spot and then blur everything or I can't see at all.
This is why I have not been sleeping of late.
Last week eye pain lasted 18 straight hours of non stop flaming agony.
I tend to wake up about 4 am and do videos or work on IPad.
Sleep hours are irregular.
Will get eye medication next week and new keyboard.
Wrist also hurts at times. Carpal tunnel ?
Cat video was a test to see if video would record properly.
Bellgab video had problem at the exact time I started talking about Casio.
He's been leaving threats on my You Tube channel.
Very weird.
Will have to re-record it once I can see things better and have new keyboard.
Got 4 books ( hb !) for a buck yesterday.
One on history of Trump family.
One Dick Morris book I didn't have.
One on the myth of man made global warming.
And one biography on a big time Chicago day trader.
Going to go get more next week.
Have a great and Happy Christmas !


Feel free to print.

This sounds like a legit cable to me, verified by the books he mentioned to me on the phone that he recently got.

[Yorkshire pud]

No,  you didn't.

It's none of your business.

[area51drone]

It's none of your business.

See how that works?

[Yorkshire pud]

See how that works?

Wow! Don't mention work on Senda's thread; work is a dirty word to him, he'll give you serious grief for that.

[3OctaveFart]

Drone, I don't make shit up about this guy.

His lousy girlfriend, eh, maybe I have once or twice.

[Yorkshire pud]

Drone, I don't make shit up about this guy.

No-one would doubt you; when it comes to Senda it's life imitating art.

His lousy girlfriend, eh, maybe I have once or twice.

If he is sick and she won't take him for help then she needs to be fired.

Maybe he shouldn't have taken her fat grasping indolent ass for granted, she was in good company with him though. Exactly how are the rape allegations against Patty panning out?

[3OctaveFart]

Self-improvement can give him incentive to find a better girlfriend.

A new woman would energize him, as it would any man. Unless he's gay.

I really think this is critical for Falkie, replacing this negative, inert object in his life. There are no signs of it being a healthy thing for him. They don't inspire one another. No physical component. No romance. There is no point to the relationship.

Half-day is up. Merry Christmas to Falkie, his advisors and all Falkizens. Out.

[Who]

A new woman would energize him . . .

A thoughtful, accomplished gentleman like Senda should have no problem finding a new lady friend.  First, he can give her a tour of Casa Senda.  And there's his impressive home library with the published works of Richard C. Hoagland and George Noory.  And, of course, there's his impressive career in journalism.

At his age he should limit his search to women his own age, presumably widows.  A younger woman may see him as another Hugh Heffner, an elderly man of great wealth and influence with one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel. 

Finally, and this is vital, he must require any potential Mrs. Senda  to sign a prenuptial agreement to protect his vast wealth just in case things don't work out.

[Who]

Recent cable from Falkie:

Have a great and Happy Christmas !

Feel free to print.

Merry Christmas, George.  And a very Happy New Year to you!

[Inglorious Bitch]

I don't ask for much. My new years resolution is to not get ass raped again.

Well, not after New Years, but SV can't promise anything for Christmas.

[Curandero81]

Sorry but this thread is now the Re: The Specific Musings of paladin1991 thread.

Party on!

Paladin
I am sorry for sending you and you "partner" Casio the "small" size..
I was NOT able to purchase midget extra small, so sorry.
May I suggest you and your "partner" ..wet (how ever you choose) and put in dryer for 69 minutes (haha) and they may fit!
Anyway
HAVE FUN SUITIN' EACH OTHER UP !!
MERRY CHRISTMAS

[SredniVashtar]

Falkie's Christmas Carol - Stave Two - Part One

Cast:

Anthony George Senda - 'Falkie' (A Drooling Moron)

Mrs Senda - 'Herself' (The Ghost of Falkie's Mother)

Mr Senda - 'Himself' (The Ghost of Falkie's Father)

Inglorious Bitch - 'Loretta LeStrange' (Adult Book Store Owner)

PonyBoySunset - 'Dolores Lesbian' (A Lesbian)

Onan - 'A Perverted Customer'

SciFi Author - 'The Revd Everard Forboys' (Moral Campaigner)

We rejoin Anthony George Senda, star of the recent straight-to-video horror classic 'The Human Dung Beetle', during an exciting period at Senda Towers. His ten-year project to complete a life-size sculpture of Sweet Kathy out of his own navel lint has almost reached completion. Despite derision from 'the haters' that it looks like nothing more than a enormous heap of shit with eyes, our hero insists that it is a lifelike representation (visually and olfactorily) of the great love of his life, whom he kicked out in the snow to live with her rapist only a few days before. In an unusual turn of events, Senda has suddenly found himself visited by the ghosts of his own dead parents.

Now read on...

The bundle of old clothes pointed an accusing finger at her wastrel son, gesturing contemptuously at the perspiring mountain of fetid offal that stood before her. Senda had soiled himself and stood quivering with fear. He thought that he probably should have put some pants on earlier, just in case, but it's not every day you find yourself standing before the spectral apparitions of Mr and Mrs Senda. Naked from the waist down (yes, dear reader, I hope you are enjoying your breakfast), hair standing on end, fat pad a-tremble, he was literally shitting himself with fear. Suddenly the skeletal hand started to rummage inside itself and produced a charred envelope, which it threw at Senda's feet. Senda gasped to the floor to pick it up (perhaps one of his YouTube subscribers had done the decent thing at last and paid for a frayed iPad cable?), chubby, eager fingers tearing at the envelope. Inside was a Christmas card depicting a naked Senda, apple in mouth, being spit roasted over a large fire, with two gleeful demons wearing Santa hats looking on. When he opened the card he read the message, “Merry *****mas, Bitch Tits. Be seeing you soon. Love, Satan xoxo.” Senda soiled himself. Then the bundle of old clothes addressed him in a loud, commanding voice:

'Well, anyway, sweet pea, how have you been keeping?'
  'What do you mean, “how have I been keeping”?' said Senda. 'I've just been threatened by the Prince of Darkness! And anyway, how did he find out about my pet name? I don't let anyone but George Noory call me “Bitch Tits” â€" well, sometimes Tommy on Threeway Thursdays, but that's it!'
  'Oh, I forgot, he also asked me to call you a...umm...I have a terrible memory, hold on'. Wanda Senda furrowed her brow in thought. 'Oh, that's right: you are a “work-shirking, goof-offing, race-baiting, hygiene-neglecting, cat-flattening, salad-dodging, panhandling, woman-beating, fat fucking piece of shit!”' said Wanda. 'Oh, and there was also something about spinning on devil dick for all eternity, but I forget the details.'
  'I object to “panhandling”; I considered it, but it seemed too much like regular employment,' said Senda. 'And the haters keep saying I'm an idiot, but Bill Gates offered me a job.'
  'A trucker called Bill Gates gave you ten bucks for a blowjob. That's not quite the same thing,' corrected Wanda.
  'But why has The Lord of the Underworld â€" peace be upon his cloven feet - got it in for me? I have always been a good son, for instance.'
At that, the bathtub started to rock from side to side and a hollow reverberant laugh seemed to rise up from the plughole. Senda soiled himself.
  'Hush, Genghis!' said Wanda. 'I suppose it depends on what you define as “good”. You certainly finished your plate up every mealtime. The trouble is, you also finished everyone else's too. You just didn't know when to stop. I had to keep the ER on speed dial, the number of times I had to get them to remove a plate from your colon. And when you bent down to speak to me in my last minutes, instead of “I love you, Mommy”, you asked me what my credit card PIN was. I know you were only joking, but some people take a different view.'
  'By the way, I'm sorry about the whole “burning in hell” thing,” said Senda. 'I didn't mean it literally. It was just my little joke. You know I was always such a kidder. I think I inherited my sense of humour from the German side of the family, as well as my ideas about racial purity. I still get a postcard every Kristallnacht from Great Uncle Adolf, by the way.'
  'Oh, I'm not in Hell because of you,' said Wanda. 'I was curious about what you were masturbating to every night, so I searched your bedroom. I was hoping it was just gay porn but it turned out be some guy called Art Bell. I listened to one and he was talking to some dope called John Lear going on about not going into the light because “it's a trick”. Well, I remembered what he said and did as he suggested. The next thing I knew I heard a door slam behind me, a deep voice said “April Fool”. and now here I am'.
  'But what does His Satanic Majesty mean by “see you soon”? said Senda. 'Only really bad guys go to Hell, like people who don't send me money, or give me free shit. All I do is sit on my fat old ass picking crumbs of Cheetos out of my pubes all day long. It's not as if I ever murdered anyone.'
  Once again, the bathtub produced an ear-splitting maniacal laugh, and started to bounce up and down. Senda soiled himself. He reflected he probably should have avoided that eighth TV dinner this evening.
  'Quiet, Genghis!' hissed Wanda. 'I'm sorry about Pop. He's got some silly idea in his head that you killed him. I tried to tell him that you were only trying to make him comfortable in that bathtub, by raising him up a bit so that he didn't slip down and injure himself. It just so happened that while you were lifting him up by his throat he died at the same time, but it was an accident that could have happened to anyone,' said Wanda. 'There was also something else that the boys downstairs wanted me to mention,' said Wanda, putting a bony hand to her decomposing forehead in thought. 'Oh yes, they wanted to know if the name “Zodiac” meant anything to you?'
  “STFU!” said Senda, a bead of sweat on his brow, beady little eyes darting around his hovel nervously.
  'That's what I said!' said Wanda. 'I remember thinking at the time that a roll of duct tape, a hunting knife and a sniper's rifle was quite a lot to take for a nature ramble, but you said you liked to go butterfly collecting and that some of those Red Admirals don't go down without a fight.'
  'Oh shit, I am well and truly fucked. I made sure Sweet Kathy ate all the evidence, but I never believed in G*d, or the Devil. You never liked Sweet Kathy, did you?' continued Senda. 'Her breath is like attar of roses, and her lips taste sweeter than honey wine...,' said Senda, lost in an unpleasant trouser-rubbing reverie.
  'It's hard to love someone like that mess!' said Wanda. 'It's difficult to put my finger on exactly when I went off her. I think it happened around the time you first brought her round for Thanksgiving and she trashed the living room because there was no more pumpkin pie left. I'm pretty sure she ate my couch too, because I never saw it again after that.'
  'Give me another chance, Momsy,' said Senda. 'I promise to mend my ways.'
  'That's why I'm here. I have pleaded your case, and you are going to get one more chance to shape up, or...'
  'Or what?' said Senda.
  'Let's just say, you won't need to grift any heating money out of people for a very long time,' said Wanda, with a meaning look. 'You are going to be visited by three spirits.'
  'Well, those bastards had better not call before noon, that's all, because I am NOT a morning person and...'
  'Oh, for fuck's sake,' said Wanda.
And with that, the air was filled with a ghostly howl. It was the usual evening wail of Sweet Kathy outside Senda's window baying for fish scraps. Senda's parents joined in the unearthly moaning, danced to the window, and flew out into the wintry Martinez night. Senda was alone again.

(to be continued)

[Yorkshire pud]

BRAVO Sir!!! Absolutely brilliant. And Merry Christmas. 

[GravitySucks]

OHMYGAWD

[SredniVashtar]

Falkie's Christmas Carol - Stave Two - Part Two.

(Cont.)

Things had gotten serious, and Senda needed to think. He had thought himself into a doze when he heard a tumult of confused noises in the street outside his hovel. Cautiously peeping out of the window, Senda saw what looked like a fleet of limousines parked outside, and a group of official-looking men in shades and earpieces milling about and looking busy. At a signal from the senior man, the door of one of the limos opened to reveal a familiar figure, who marched in purposeful fashion to Senda's toilet/apartment. Senda thought he was looking into the mirror - if he hadn't already known that Sweet Kathy had broken six mirrors in the last month and he hadn't bought another one since he kicked her out. It looked like Senda, but yet it wasn't. This one was wearing a suit and George hadn't worn a suit since his last court appearance concerning that unfortunate business at the children's playground ('I had an itchy dick and was just trying to scratch it, that's all, so STFU!') so this prosperous-looking Senda was puzzling. Then he decided that, blood being thicker than water, a long-lost Senda relative might be perfect loan material, and rushed to open the door, his grifting antennae twitching urgently at this new potential income stream.

'Please come in,' said Senda, trying to moderate the ghastliness of his appearance with a muscular spasm that he hoped was an ingratiating smile. 'I'm sorry I haven't had a chance to clean today, but...'
The visitor looked piercingly into Falkie's fat face, taking him in at a glance and swallowing hard to control an urge to vomit. It could have been owing to the natural loathsomeness of Senda's features, the three months of skidmarked laundry piled in a corner of his hovel, or the aroma of the three rotting cats he had already spatchcocked in the last three months but not had a chance to clean up yet...take your pick. The unexpected guest cleared his throat and began to speak in a deep rumbling voice:
  'I am President George Senda,' said President George Senda.
  'That's fascinating,' said Senda. 'Anyway, can you lend me 100 bucks till the end of next month? I am guest speaker at the fourteenth annual “FatBastardCon” and I am having trouble finding the airfare to get there, so if you wouldn't mind doing the decent thing and spotting me a bit of spending money...' rambled Senda. 'Hang on a minute, you can't be president. That's some jungle bunny from Kenya.'
  'I am President George Senda nevertheless. In an alternative universe I am the world's most loved human being. America is like the Garden of Eden, there is no unemployment, and everyone lives useful productive lives. Work is prayer, my friend,' said the president, a beatific smile wreathing his bronzed, distinguished face. 'What's the matter? He said, looking concernedly at his alter-ego.
  'Would you mind not using the 'W' word in front of me? It's in very poor taste,' said Senda, clutching his chest.
  'I am also the Ghost of Christmas Past, come to teach you the error of your ways. This life of living on handouts and public charity has got to stop. In my world, everyone has their place and contributes to society.'
  'Fuck you! Said Senda. 'I am a respected YouTube commentator; do you think I just turn the camera on and say the first shit that comes into my head or something!? And as soon as they find life on another planet, George Noory promises me they will be able to sell that TV show we did. I thought we nearly had a deal the other week, but those fucking Eskimos backed out at the last minute, saying they didn't have cable in their mud huts, those stupid bastards!

President Senda sighed, grabbed Senda by his greasy 'Got Conspiracies?' T-shirt, and flew out into the night. After they had soared through the air for some time, Senda looked down and saw a street sign that said “Bell Avenue”: a tidy, well-kept area of town, peopled by apple-cheeked children and decent, upright churchgoing folk. Except for one seedy, tumbledown shop with blacked-out windows and a rather dubious collection of characters entering it - looking from right to left in furtive fashion before dashing into its unhallowed portals. The sign above the shop said 'The Hanky Spanky' â€" Adult Book Shop'.
  'Oh, I remember this place,' said Senda. “It brings back memories. It's where I saw my first fisting  video,' he said, glasses misted over with nostalgia. 'That's how I bonded with my good ol' buddy George Noory. He was running a competition to guess how many babies he could fit into a donkey's anus and...'

At that moment, they descended to the ground. After a brief period of haggling, when Senda tried to get the ghost to pay for his phantom journey, they made their way to the door of the bookshop. They entered the shop and were confronted with a 25 year-old Senda serving at the counter: fishnet T-shirt, assless chaps and a Jewfro. It was a busy morning: Not only was it Christmas Eve, but Wednesday was always new book day, and Senda and his boss, Loretta LeStrange, were readying themselves for the usual rush of perverts wanting to get their hands on the latest fap material.

Loretta, born and raised in the Shithole district of the Bronx, opened the bookshop nearly 10 years ago on the proceeds of her previous career selling crack to schoolchildren. Stunningly beautiful - in spite of being totally bald, only having one ear, a glass eye, and a wooden leg â€" her naturally sweet disposition was soured irrevocably after being abandoned by the love of her life, a Lebanese immigrant called George. She assuaged this heartbreak in her leisure hours with a combination of casual sex and baby-punching. Despite his initial reluctance to earn less than his boss, or be told what hours he should work, Loretta and Senda had managed to bond over their shared hatred of Mexicans, or “those ugly fuckers”, as they preferred to call them.

'Right, you fat lazy fuck,' said Loretta. 'Don't forget, when you are finished with the morning rush, I want you to finish decorating the Christmas tree.'
  'Yes,' said Senda, 'I was meaning to ask you about that. Is a tree decorated with dildos quite in keeping with the birth of our Saviour? Even if I am Jewish?'
  'They're different colours, aren't they? I don't think many of our customers see too well anyway, so they'll probably think they're just Christmas pickles. Oh, but I think I'll keep that one,' said Loretta, taking a 12-inch black one from the box.
  'Anything else?' said Senda.
  'Yes. Remember to put the fairy on top of the tree. I paid good money for a genuine squirting one, so don't forget!'
  Senda nodded, while sliding the January edition of “Weird and Nasty Shit” into a large brown envelope and addressing it to “Mr W Crow”. It had been a tiring morning; it was already 9.15am and he had worked nearly 15 minutes. He slumped down on a nearby stool, only to hear a splintering, squashy sound, and a kind of muffled yowling.
  'OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE. Not again! Look, Senda, when I said I'd like you to destroy my pussy later, this is NOT what I had in mind,' said Loretta, holding what looked like a furry long-playing record between finger and thumb. 'This is your final warning,' she said, frisbeeing the former feline out of an open winow with a casual flick of the wrist. 'If you sit on another cat I will take it out of your wages. Well, I would if I were paying you any. I normally pay you in piss porn vids.'

Loretta stalked off into the back office, while Senda busied himself with a new title for the festive season: an African-American gay Santa porn called 'Jungle Balls'. He was halfway through writing 'Batem-' on the address label when the bell rang and a customer bounced in.
  'Hello, my name is Dolores Lesbian. I'm a lesbian. Has the latest issue of “Chubby Lap-Lickers” come in yet?'
  'Here you are,' said Senda. 'Do you want it in a bag?'
  'Oh no,' said the lesbian. 'I want EVERYONE to know I'm a lesbian,' said the lesbian. 'By the way, do you have anything about someone who has a creepy gay obsession with an elderly radio host that hardly anyone has heard of?'
  'Oh, sorry,' said Senda. 'We just shipped the last copy off to Australia.'
  'Never mind. Oh, by the way,' said this committed Sapphist, 'I have just opened the new cycle shop across the street. Here's my card.'
The lesbian reached into her dungarees and produced a small, embossed piece of cardboard with a monogrammed 'Y' above the legend 'Dykes on Bikes.' Then, having paid for her book (making sure she got her usual 10% lesbian discount), she sashayed out.

The bell rang again and an elderly customer shuffled in. He was wearing a long raincoat, frayed at the cuffs, and the considerable expanse of bare ankle suggested he had neglected to put any trousers on this morning.
  'Is the latest issue of “Farmyard Fun” out yet?' he rasped.
  'Here you are,' said Senda, placing a heavily laminated copy on the grubby counter, with a picture of a Friesian cow (eyes blacked out to preserve its anonymity) on the cover.
  'Oh yeah, baby!' the customer said, looking at the centre-page spread. 'Mr Ed, behind the camera. That shit is hot! I love the retro stuff.'
The customer riffled further through its pages and gave a sudden squeak of pleasure.
  'Fame at last!' he said, pointing to the readers' wives section, and indicating a picture of a sheep called “Flossie”. 'My neighbour married a pig last year, the fag! Do you know they have almost exactly the same DNA as humans? Where's the fun in that?'
Senda nodded. He'd met a woman called Kathleen the other day, while she happened to be upside- down in a dumpster scoffing potato peelings, and had reached much the same conclusion himself.
  'I don't dig the kinky shit. Oh, sorry!' he said, as half a dozen gerbils rolled out of his coat sleeve on to the counter. 'Anyway, I must be going. I have patients to visit this morning. You know, there are some really fucked up freaks in this world, and they rely on my guidance.'

After the customer tottered out, Senda was left on his own again, with nothing but an old copy of “Random Slags” to keep him company. While perusing a couple of elderly women calling themselves Darth Sandra and TigerLily, and wondering what end was up, he heard the door slam against the wall, and a priestly figure strode in, asperging the soggy carpet and grimy shelves with Lysol.
  'Begone, filth!' he said.
  'Mom, is that you?' said Senda.
  'I am the Reverend Everard Forboys!' he said. 'I am secretary of the “Campaign against Unnatural Naughty Things” and I am here to shut your ass down!'
  'Does that mean you won't be wanting your copy of “Choirboy Chronicles” this month?' enquired Senda.
  'STFU! I was only doing research. I had to find out how DISGUSTING this place really is,' said the Revd, accidentally knocking over Loretta's 'alternative manger scene', featuring the Three Kings teabagging the baby Jesus.
  'We are not having you lowering rents in this area any longer. The pure air of Bell Avenue is being defiled by the stink of this place and we will have it no longer. This is a notice to quit,' he said, throwing a document on the counter. 'You have one month and then you are out of here!'

Falkie awoke with a start. What a horrible nightmare! He didn't know what was worse - being sacked, or having a paying job in the first place!

(To be continued. Falkie is visited by the Ghost of Christmas Present)

[Darth]

Im here to inform all of you Losers that are "Art Bell Fans" that you need to get a fucking life. Art is a loser and a quitter. He does not have the balls to be on the air. He is also a fucking Liar too. People please do yourself a favor and get a life, move out of your parent's basement, get laid and vote for Trump for 2016. As for Jazmunda, please smoke less weed and listen to George Noory. B-Dubb you just need to get a life. Eddie Coyle please go fuck your self. Redacted please stop hosting MITD because your NO Art Bell. Casio and Falkie when are you two getting married. Chefist your the only normal person here.  Ponyboysunset you need to get a life.  Fort Rock I heard that you are Eddie Dean's gay lover.

[onan]

Im here to inform all of you Losers that are "Art Bell Fans" that you need to get a fucking life. Art is a loser and a quitter. He does not have the balls to be on the air. He is also a fucking Liar too. People please do yourself a favor and get a life, move out of your parent's basement, get laid and vote for Trump for 2016. As for Jazmunda, please smoke less weed and listen to George Noory. B-Dubb you just need to get a life. Eddie Coyle please go fuck your self. Redacted please stop hosting MITD because your NO Art Bell. Casio and Falkie when are you two getting married. Chefist your the only normal person here.  Ponyboysunset you need to get a life.  Fort Rock I heard that you are Eddie Dean's gay lover.

Hey SR71 AKA Mr. Spock. Merry Christmas.

[whoozit]

Falkie's Christmas Carol - Stave Two - Part Two.

Well done sir!

[BellBoy]

Falkie's Christmas Carol - Stave Two - Part Two.

...Falkie awoke with a start. What a horrible nightmare! He didn't know what was worse - being sacked, or having a paying job in the first place!

(To be continued. Falkie is visited by the Ghost of Christmas Present)

(It's just like a Christmas Miracle!)

[starrmtn001]

Falkie's Christmas Carol - Stave Two - Part Two.

(Cont.)

Things had gotten serious, and Senda needed to think. He had thought himself into a doze when he heard a tumult of confused noises in the street outside his hovel. Cautiously peeping out of the window, Senda saw what looked like a fleet of limousines parked outside, and a group of official-looking men in shades and earpieces milling about and looking busy. At a signal from the senior man, the door of one of the limos opened to reveal a familiar figure, who marched in purposeful fashion to Senda's toilet/apartment. Senda thought he was looking into the mirror - if he hadn't already known that Sweet Kathy had broken six mirrors in the last month and he hadn't bought another one since he kicked her out. It looked like Senda, but yet it wasn't. This one was wearing a suit and George hadn't worn a suit since his last court appearance concerning that unfortunate business at the children's playground ('I had an itchy dick and was just trying to scratch it, that's all, so STFU!') so this prosperous-looking Senda was puzzling. Then he decided that, blood being thicker than water, a long-lost Senda relative might be perfect loan material, and rushed to open the door, his grifting antennae twitching urgently at this new potential income stream.

'Please come in,' said Senda, trying to moderate the ghastliness of his appearance with a muscular spasm that he hoped was an ingratiating smile. 'I'm sorry I haven't had a chance to clean today, but...'
The visitor looked piercingly into Falkie's fat face, taking him in at a glance and swallowing hard to control an urge to vomit. It could have been owing to the natural loathsomeness of Senda's features, the three months of skidmarked laundry piled in a corner of his hovel, or the aroma of the three rotting cats he had already spatchcocked in the last three months but not had a chance to clean up yet...take your pick. The unexpected guest cleared his throat and began to speak in a deep rumbling voice:
  'I am President George Senda,' said President George Senda.
  'That's fascinating,' said Senda. 'Anyway, can you lend me 100 bucks till the end of next month? I am guest speaker at the fourteenth annual “FatBastardCon” and I am having trouble finding the airfare to get there, so if you wouldn't mind doing the decent thing and spotting me a bit of spending money...' rambled Senda. 'Hang on a minute, you can't be president. That's some jungle bunny from Kenya.'
  'I am President George Senda nevertheless. In an alternative universe I am the world's most loved human being. America is like the Garden of Eden, there is no unemployment, and everyone lives useful productive lives. Work is prayer, my friend,' said the president, a beatific smile wreathing his bronzed, distinguished face. 'What's the matter? He said, looking concernedly at his alter-ego.
  'Would you mind not using the 'W' word in front of me? It's in very poor taste,' said Senda, clutching his chest.
  'I am also the Ghost of Christmas Past, come to teach you the error of your ways. This life of living on handouts and public charity has got to stop. In my world, everyone has their place and contributes to society.'
  'Fuck you! Said Senda. 'I am a respected YouTube commentator; do you think I just turn the camera on and say the first shit that comes into my head or something!? And as soon as they find life on another planet, George Noory promises me they will be able to sell that TV show we did. I thought we nearly had a deal the other week, but those fucking Eskimos backed out at the last minute, saying they didn't have cable in their mud huts, those stupid bastards!

President Senda sighed, grabbed Senda by his greasy 'Got Conspiracies?' T-shirt, and flew out into the night. After they had soared through the air for some time, Senda looked down and saw a street sign that said “Bell Avenue”: a tidy, well-kept area of town, peopled by apple-cheeked children and decent, upright churchgoing folk. Except for one seedy, tumbledown shop with blacked-out windows and a rather dubious collection of characters entering it - looking from right to left in furtive fashion before dashing into its unhallowed portals. The sign above the shop said 'The Hanky Spanky' â€" Adult Book Shop'.
  'Oh, I remember this place,' said Senda. “It brings back memories. It's where I saw my first fisting  video,' he said, glasses misted over with nostalgia. 'That's how I bonded with my good ol' buddy George Noory. He was running a competition to guess how many babies he could fit into a donkey's anus and...'

At that moment, they descended to the ground. After a brief period of haggling, when Senda tried to get the ghost to pay for his phantom journey, they made their way to the door of the bookshop. They entered the shop and were confronted with a 25 year-old Senda serving at the counter: fishnet T-shirt, assless chaps and a Jewfro. It was a busy morning: Not only was it Christmas Eve, but Wednesday was always new book day, and Senda and his boss, Loretta LeStrange, were readying themselves for the usual rush of perverts wanting to get their hands on the latest fap material.

Loretta, born and raised in the Shithole district of the Bronx, opened the bookshop nearly 10 years ago on the proceeds of her previous career selling crack to schoolchildren. Stunningly beautiful - in spite of being totally bald, only having one ear, a glass eye, and a wooden leg â€" her naturally sweet disposition was soured irrevocably after being abandoned by the love of her life, a Lebanese immigrant called George. She assuaged this heartbreak in her leisure hours with a combination of casual sex and baby-punching. Despite his initial reluctance to earn less than his boss, or be told what hours he should work, Loretta and Senda had managed to bond over their shared hatred of Mexicans, or “those ugly fuckers”, as they preferred to call them.

'Right, you fat lazy fuck,' said Loretta. 'Don't forget, when you are finished with the morning rush, I want you to finish decorating the Christmas tree.'
  'Yes,' said Senda, 'I was meaning to ask you about that. Is a tree decorated with dildos quite in keeping with the birth of our Saviour? Even if I am Jewish?'
  'They're different colours, aren't they? I don't think many of our customers see too well anyway, so they'll probably think they're just Christmas pickles. Oh, but I think I'll keep that one,' said Loretta, taking a 12-inch black one from the box.
  'Anything else?' said Senda.
  'Yes. Remember to put the fairy on top of the tree. I paid good money for a genuine squirting one, so don't forget!'
  Senda nodded, while sliding the January edition of “Weird and Nasty Shit” into a large brown envelope and addressing it to “Mr W Crow”. It had been a tiring morning; it was already 9.15am and he had worked nearly 15 minutes. He slumped down on a nearby stool, only to hear a splintering, squashy sound, and a kind of muffled yowling.
  'OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE. Not again! Look, Senda, when I said I'd like you to destroy my pussy later, this is NOT what I had in mind,' said Loretta, holding what looked like a furry long-playing record between finger and thumb. 'This is your final warning,' she said, frisbeeing the former feline out of an open winow with a casual flick of the wrist. 'If you sit on another cat I will take it out of your wages. Well, I would if I were paying you any. I normally pay you in piss porn vids.'

Loretta stalked off into the back office, while Senda busied himself with a new title for the festive season: an African-American gay Santa porn called 'Jungle Balls'. He was halfway through writing 'Batem-' on the address label when the bell rang and a customer bounced in.
  'Hello, my name is Dolores Lesbian. I'm a lesbian. Has the latest issue of “Chubby Lap-Lickers” come in yet?'
  'Here you are,' said Senda. 'Do you want it in a bag?'
  'Oh no,' said the lesbian. 'I want EVERYONE to know I'm a lesbian,' said the lesbian. 'By the way, do you have anything about someone who has a creepy gay obsession with an elderly radio host that hardly anyone has heard of?'
  'Oh, sorry,' said Senda. 'We just shipped the last copy off to Australia.'
  'Never mind. Oh, by the way,' said this committed Sapphist, 'I have just opened the new cycle shop across the street. Here's my card.'
The lesbian reached into her dungarees and produced a small, embossed piece of cardboard with a monogrammed 'Y' above the legend 'Dykes on Bikes.' Then, having paid for her book (making sure she got her usual 10% lesbian discount), she sashayed out.

The bell rang again and an elderly customer shuffled in. He was wearing a long raincoat, frayed at the cuffs, and the considerable expanse of bare ankle suggested he had neglected to put any trousers on this morning.
  'Is the latest issue of “Farmyard Fun” out yet?' he rasped.
  'Here you are,' said Senda, placing a heavily laminated copy on the grubby counter, with a picture of a Friesian cow (eyes blacked out to preserve its anonymity) on the cover.
  'Oh yeah, baby!' the customer said, looking at the centre-page spread. 'Mr Ed, behind the camera. That shit is hot! I love the retro stuff.'
The customer riffled further through its pages and gave a sudden squeak of pleasure.
  'Fame at last!' he said, pointing to the readers' wives section, and indicating a picture of a sheep called “Flossie”. 'My neighbour married a pig last year, the fag! Do you know they have almost exactly the same DNA as humans? Where's the fun in that?'
Senda nodded. He'd met a woman called Kathleen the other day, while she happened to be upside- down in a dumpster scoffing potato peelings, and had reached much the same conclusion himself.
  'I don't dig the kinky shit. Oh, sorry!' he said, as half a dozen gerbils rolled out of his coat sleeve on to the counter. 'Anyway, I must be going. I have patients to visit this morning. You know, there are some really fucked up freaks in this world, and they rely on my guidance.'

After the customer tottered out, Senda was left on his own again, with nothing but an old copy of “Random Slags” to keep him company. While perusing a couple of elderly women calling themselves Darth Sandra and TigerLily, and wondering what end was up, he heard the door slam against the wall, and a priestly figure strode in, asperging the soggy carpet and grimy shelves with Lysol.
  'Begone, filth!' he said.
  'Mom, is that you?' said Senda.
  'I am the Reverend Everard Forboys!' he said. 'I am secretary of the “Campaign against Unnatural Naughty Things” and I am here to shut your ass down!'
  'Does that mean you won't be wanting your copy of “Choirboy Chronicles” this month?' enquired Senda.
  'STFU! I was only doing research. I had to find out how DISGUSTING this place really is,' said the Revd, accidentally knocking over Loretta's 'alternative manger scene', featuring the Three Kings teabagging the baby Jesus.
  'We are not having you lowering rents in this area any longer. The pure air of Bell Avenue is being defiled by the stink of this place and we will have it no longer. This is a notice to quit,' he said, throwing a document on the counter. 'You have one month and then you are out of here!'

Falkie awoke with a start. What a horrible nightmare! He didn't know what was worse - being sacked, or having a paying job in the first place!

(To be continued. Falkie is visited by the Ghost of Christmas Present)

So far, so good.  Bravo!  Keep up the good work sir.

[Lilith]

Falkie's Christmas Carol - Stave Two - Part Two.



(To be continued. Falkie is visited by the Ghost of Christmas Present)

Wonderful reading ShredmeBashedher. Thank You SO MUCH!!  A wonderful Christmas Gift to all of us Falkie Fans indeed.  Even more wonderous, would be an audio book, read by yourself, in that wonderful Fire Breathing Voice of Yours!   

Merry Christmas to You, Falkie,  and all the Falkie Fans!

[Open Lines Gerry]

Merry Christmas to one and all from Mrs. Gerry and me.  We wish you all the best in the coming New Year, too! 

Enjoy the holidays with your families and friends, and stay safe and warm (if you're in a cold weather area).  Please don't drink and drive if you're going out.

Take care, everybody, and if you raise a glass to make a toast this Christmas, please remember our dear friend, George Senda, of course - and Ol' Gerry!

                 

[nooryisawesome]

He's probably too embarrassed to tell us that he has pink eye. Pink eye results from e. coli getting in your eye.

Falkie must have made some chicken again.

[Evil Twin Of Zen]

Wonderful reading ShredmeBashedher. Thank You SO MUCH!!  A wonderful Christmas Gift to all of us Falkie Fans indeed.  Even more wonderous, would be an audio book, read by yourself, in that wonderful Fire Breathing Voice of Yours!   

Merry Christmas to You, Falkie,  and all the Falkie Fans!

lady, lay off the 'nog.