tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57916775825794346162024-03-04T20:52:44.159-08:00Dana C. Kabel's THE NON-STOP BULLETDana C. Kabelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13364961727027777878noreply@blogger.comBlogger40125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791677582579434616.post-60775408832035910782016-07-27T22:38:00.000-07:002016-07-27T22:38:25.849-07:00Hello Governor!<br />
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I'm back from a long hiatus from my blog, the internet, my jobby-job, and the planet Earth in general. After 5 years at the YMCA I am moving onward and hopefully upward to better things. I am about to embark on a nomadic lifestyle that will allow me to see more of my family that are spread across the eastern side of this great continent and write my ass off while doing so as I travel back and forth between North Carolina and New Jersey.<br />
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The gig at the YMCA ran it's course. I learned a lot and met a lot of really awesome people who have become beloved friends that I will always cherish, but it is time to move on to some new things and get back to doing the most important and challenging job that I have been neglecting for a great while now.<br />
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That is.....PIMPING!<br />
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Starting with THIS:<br />
Check out those gams, you howling wolves!<br />
Have you bought this book yet? If the answer is no, then WHY NOT?!?!? The cover alone is worth the modest price of this pulp masterpiece from the most dangerous duo to ever collaborate for this epic noir series, Ken Bruen and Jason Starr.<br />
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If you are a Hardcase Crime fanatical collector like me, then you already own the preceding books: BUST, SLIDE, and THE MAX. If you don't own those, go out and get them now. But when you order this colossal kick-ass crime omnibus, make sure you get TWO copies of PIMP.<br />
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WHY? Because your's truly has the honor of being quoted in this amazing opus!<br />
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Hey! Who yelled "whoop-di-friggin-do?!?" Do you know who you're messing with?<br />
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Now don't stop reading because you suddenly realized that the only pimping I'm doing here involves my own selfish, egotistical ass. Because that's just not true. I'm really here to promote the works of my more talented friends in the literary world. And I will prove that by pointing out this excellent interview of my friend, Marcia Clark in the Summer edition of Mystery Scene Magazine<br />
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If you haven't picked up the latest ish, do it NOW!!! Marcia is a talented mystery writer with a great new book out called BLOOD DEFENSE. Put that in the shopping cart too! As soon as you read the fantastic interview that was conducted by a brilliant new voice who is already being touted as "the next Barbara Walters", you will want to read Marcia's book right away!!<br />
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What? Are you saying the only reason I'm pimping this on my blog is because I was said interviewer? Well, you're right. But I am the next Barbara Walters. My next interview is going to make you cry.<br />
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Enough about me...well, not really because now I'm going to tell you what I'VE been reading:<br />
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First:<br />
BOOM!!!<br />
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SAVAGE LANE by Jason Starr. YOU MUST READ THIS BOOK!!!!!<br />
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Nobody gets inside the head of a sociopath like Jason Starr. It makes me kind of afraid to get near him again. If you've read my other blogs you know how much I hate comparing writers to other writers because the writers I read have their own unique voices.<br />
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BUT<br />
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Just this once I have to say that Jim Thompson's ghost read James Ellroy's Killer on the Road and then demonically possessed Jason while he was writing this book.<br />
SAVAGE LANE is your summer book. It's your beach book. It's your stay up all night long to finish the last hundred pages book. Get it. Read it. It's brilliant.<br />
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Next, go to Barnes & Noble tomorrow and shamelessly peruse the discount table until you find this:<br />
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David Morrell scares the living shit out of me. Buy this book. It's disturbing the hell out of me and I'm only three chapters in.<br />
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Which is why I am going to end now, so I can read myself into a gruesome sleepless night.<br />
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Sleep tight kiddies.<br />
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You'll be hearing lots more from me soon!Dana C. Kabelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13364961727027777878noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791677582579434616.post-82464899169998299082014-10-10T11:33:00.000-07:002014-10-10T11:33:32.159-07:00LAWRENCE BLOCK, CANNIBALISM, DEATH BY EXPLOSION, INEBRIATED CANINES and the late JAMES CRUMLEY!!!Wow, with a tag-line like that, I'd better deliver. If you didn't tune in to last week's blog; GREAT!! Because I didn't either. Not only did I fail to deliver my blog, I failed to shout STOP SENDING SUBMISSIONS to the now infamous Kabel's Kannibal Cookbook. The deadline for submissions ended with my youth on September 28, when I turned 45 years old. Okay, so my youth ended a handful of birthdays ago when my hair turned gray and started migrating from the top of my head to the middle of my back. Let's move on already.<br />
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When I was a kid, my father was quick to dub his three sons with nicknames. Most of the time I was Bean. But every now and then I would be assigned the title of Fireball Roberts. I never asked why he called me that (occasionally), and he never bothered to offer it.<br />
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As years passed and I had the privilege of spending most of my adult life in the company of my dad building houses with him and one of my brothers, he would bring the nickname up on the golf course. Particularly when I overshot the green or hit a put too hard and it raced by the little hole in the ground you are supposed to put it in.<br />
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Again, I never bothered to ask about the Fireball Roberts reference; it merely assumed that this Roberts fellow was some icon of forgotten days who used to move quickly in some capacity or other.<br />
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This morning when my six year old daughter, Rose was acting like she took in great doses of sugar and caffeine just before her feet hit the cold floor, I found myself calling her Fireball Roberts. My wife asked me why I called her that, and I was at a loss.<br />
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Why did I call her that, and who was this character. Of course a more curious, or ambitious fellow would have looked this easily attainable information up a long time ago. That's what Wikipedia is for.<br />
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I should have probably looked it up a couple of years ago when I came across the name for the first time in a handful of years, when I read The Last Good Kiss by James Crumley. I cannot kiss the ass of this book enough to do it justice. If you haven't read it yet, shame on you. Go buy, steal, or borrow it right this instant!<br />
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Anyway, this great book opens with the line, "<b><i>When I finally caught up with Abraham Trahearne, he was drinking beer with an alcoholic bulldog named Fireball Roberts in a ramshackle joint just outside of Sonoma, California, drinking the heart right out of a fine spring afternoon</i></b>."<br />
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WOW! If that doesn't send you running to check a reference, what will? The height of ambition I may not be, but I was overly curious enough to want to read as much of that book as I could in one sitting after taking in that great opening. The mention of Fireball Roberts sparked something in my head that only confirmed the notion that this Roberts dude was an icon of a forgotten era that my old man didn't just make up off the cuff.<br />
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Still, I filed it away and read on through the Crumley book and loved it. In fact, I loved it so much that as soon as I had finished it, I went on a biblioventure (my word), searching near and far for everything Mr. Crumley ever put to print. So far, I haven't enjoyed anything of his as much as I enjoyed The Last Good Kiss. Since much of it was out of print, I went up one cyber-hill and down the other until I had obtained every last word he put to print before he died. That's just the kind of obsessive nut that I am. But I did not look up the origin of this Fireball Roberts to guess why anyone would give an alcoholic bulldog such a moniker.<br />
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Today, when my wife asked me who Fireball Roberts was, I decided to take that embarrassingly easy step into the land of knowledge both true and false (since anyone can submit anything to Wikipedia and have it recorded for posterity). My new found ambition rewarded me with this:<br />
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Fireball Roberts is a horrible nickname to give a little kid.<br />
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Edward Glenn "Fireball" Roberts, Jr. was a Florida race car driver who lost the great race of life in 1964 during the World 600 when his car crashed into a wall and exploded in (you guessed it) a great big fireball. If you look hard enough, you can find the grainy old footage of his demise and see the actual ball of fire that did him in. Not a thought that I want to associate with my beloved little princess.<br />
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You must be thinking the worst about racing fans right now. I always do. What kind of sick people would slap a nickname like this on a guy who literally went up in a ball of fire? It would be like calling your late uncle who lost his life to cancer, "Cancer Joe" or your aunt who was trampled in a riot, "Flat Mabel."<br />
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Before you start throwing retaliation at the NASCAR fans by awarding them such seemingly appropriate insults, <i>(Inbred, toothless drunk</i> comes to mind.<i> Dipshit who gets off watching cars go around and around in a circle until someone explodes into a fireball could be another)</i> just relax; they weren't the ones who gave Mr. Roberts his grimly prophetic nickname.<br />
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No, Edward Glenn "Fireball" Roberts, Jr. got his nickname when he played baseball for the American Legion several years before he aspired to drive a car around in a circle until it crashed into a wall.<br />
Apparently, old Fireball had a hell of a fast pitch and received his nickname from it.<br />
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He may have had a chance to earn the nickname from the Army Air Corp, which he enlisted in, in 1945. But Uncle Sam gave him the boot after basic training when his asthma kicked in. Which seems rather suspect to me as he went on to spending quite a bit of his time outdoors, throwing fast pitches and later driving his car around in circles before smashing it into a wall.<br />
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Now for the really good stuff, because I see someone bouncing up and down in the back with their hand raised. What about Lawrence Block? You think I threw his name in the title of this post just to get some of his fans to read my blog? Shame on you! I would never exploit my very favorite writer in such a way.<br />
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To prove it, I submit this picture of me standing next to Mr. Block with the look of a frightened deer or wild eyed stalker in my eyes. This was taken at the recent launch party for a book by Larry's late friend, the great Donald Westlake, who some of you may know as Richard Stark, creator of the Parker series.<br />
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Larry wrote the introduction to the very nice collection of Donald Westlake's non-fiction essays called The Getaway Car, that I have clutched in my trembling, sweaty hands. If you want to hear some great stories about the early days of the Golden Age of crime fiction in NYC, talk to Lawrence Block. Both Larry and Donald Westlake lived through a lot of growth and change in publishing history. It is a fascinating topic that is woven through this book. If you don't have a copy, go to the Mysterious Bookshop and get one NOW!<br />
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He also wrote the book A Walk Among the Tombstones, which everyone knows has been made into a feature film with Liam Neeson and is burning up the competition in movie theaters across the country right NOW!<br />
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All well and good, but what the hell does that have to do with cannibalism? You promised Lawrence Block AND cannibalism!<br />
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Well, the best news I have for you is that Mr. Block is one of the many talented authors contributing to the upcoming Kannibal Cookbook collection that is being put together by me and the awesome folks at Out of the Gutter.<br />
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This much anticipated collection of short stories will also feature such talents as Dave Zeltserman, Jason Starr, Stuart Neville, Joe Clifford, and many others.<br />
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I hope you have a healthy appetite and a strong stomachDana C. Kabelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13364961727027777878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791677582579434616.post-63836887265639010592014-09-24T21:00:00.002-07:002014-09-24T21:30:38.453-07:00VINCE VAUGHN'S CANNIBAL CONNECTIONI'm going to tell you a secret about me.<br />
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<b><i>I'm a bit off.</i></b><br />
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Crazy, nuts, cuckoo, and even disturbed. Forgive me if you think I'm lampooning mental illness. I have quirks, ticks, and jerks!<br />
Sometimes I am compelled to count things. Sometimes I have to touch things for a set number of times. I've been told this is O.C.D., or I have O.C.D. tendencies.<br />
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I'm a daydreamer. There's some kind of movie constantly rolling in my skull, along with music and dialogue. That shit never stops. I should probably be locked in a padded room somewhere.<br />
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I do things that I don't remember doing, and I remember doing things that I did not actually do, Sometimes I wake from some horrifically frightening nightmare and I am paralyzed in my own bed with the feeling that there is something dark and ominous looming over me in my bed. I do not enjoy it when my dream self has to attempt to violently wake my sleeping self.<br />
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When that happens, I scream with all I've got inside my head, while my mouth barely opens, quivering to produce a most pathetic and microscopic cry for help. I'm not shitting you. This has been happening to me since I was a boy.<br />
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I have a need to be entertained every second that I am awake. A movie, music, a book.<br />
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I am not unique. I know many people out there go through the same things and much worse. So please know that I am not trying to elicit sympathy for poor little old me.<br />
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I am merely going to give you my opinion on a current topic in the entertainment world, and I want you to know that I have the credibility to do so. I was raised by entertainment. When I was a kid I was in front of the TV, the stereo, or a book. Always. Think Cable Guy.<br />
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Sometimes I use my powers of perception and taste to help someone out of a jam.<br />
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What the hell does any of this have to do with HBO's announcement that Vince Vaughn will be partnered with Colin Farrell in the next season of True Detective?<br />
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HBO struck gold with the first season cast. It's a no brainer that they would use the same formula for season 2 in picking the leads.<br />
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Woody Harrelson is an actor who has predominately starred in comedic roles with a serious role here and there. Matthew McConaughey is an actor who has predominately starred in serious roles with a comedic role here and there. <br />
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Vince Vaughn is an actor who has predominately starred in comedic roles with a serious role here and there. Colin Ferrell is an actor who has predominately starred in serious roles with a comedic role here and there.</div>
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See the formula? It's gotta work, right?</div>
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Nuh, uh. Not for me.</div>
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I know that I am stepping on some really thin ice here. I know that I'm tossing turd bombs at Vince before they have even shot one scene of the new series. I hope that I am wrong. Let me clear that off the plate right away. I hope that he brings his A game and does a decent job with the role he'll be given.</div>
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I liked the guy in Clay Pigeons. He was a great quirky serial killer. He can act when he wants to. The problem is that he mostly doesn't act. When Vince Vaughn is on the screen he is Vince Vaughn. That guy was hilarious in Dodge Ball. I spit my soda through my nose in Old School. What a riot in The Wedding Crashers. Then he did a few goofy holiday movies and then Couples Retreat and The Break-up and ....etc...</div>
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And then one day a movie came on called The Interns. Vince partnered up with his buddy, Owen Wilson again for an uproarious flick about two buddies who lose the jobs they were complacently doing and try to reinvent themselves trying to land jobs at Google.</div>
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Vince's character could be described as an over 40 schlub who never really matured past the 5th grade and now he has to man up to make necessary life changes while still keeping that 5th grade playfulness that everybody really loves about him.</div>
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Was that the role he played in The Intern, you ask?</div>
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Yes. It is also the role he played in all of those other films I mentioned. Feel like you've seen the movie before? That's because he plays the same damned character in every film he's been in for the past fifteen years.</div>
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At this point, when I see that Vince Vaughn is going to be starring in a show that I wanted to see, I feel the same deflated feeling I get when the radio DJ announces that they are going to play Freebird after the break.</div>
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"Freebird? Jesus God no! Pull the plug out of the wall! Hurry up, I can't stand it!"</div>
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That fucking song is the most overplayed piece of shit in rock-n-roll history. It's been in a million movies and TV shows. Its been played six times a day on every classic rock radio station in the country for the past thirty years or more. I cringe at the start of that song, and it has had that effect on me for the past twenty years easily. Put your fucking lighter away already.</div>
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We've all heard Freebird over and over and over and over again. Does anyone besides a classic rock station DJ willingly select that song to listen to anymore?</div>
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Like I said at the beginning, I hope I'm wrong. I hope Vince Vaughn does a decent job with this dramatic role. I hope that when he steps up to bat he's wearing a real helmet and not one of those novelty drink holder helmets with the tubes that hang down for you to slurp Budweiser through.</div>
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He's going to have to make a big turn from everybody's favorite man-boy to win me, though. Because if I hear Freebird one more time, I just might throw up in my own mouth.</div>
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And with that I'll...</div>
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What? Oh, the cannibal thing? That's right, I did promise to tie all of the subjects of this blog to the topic of cannibalism to promote my forthcoming Kannibal Cookbook anthology, so here goes...</div>
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In 1998, director Gus Van Sant decided to remake Alfred Hitchcock's most famous film, Psycho. I know, WTF, right?</div>
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So he cast Vaughn in the role of Norman Bates, a sexually confused mama's boy who dressed in drag and butchered people at his family motel. Norman Bates was not a cannibal. The real life murderer that author Robert Bloch based his character on for his 1959 novel was a Wisconsin man named Ed Gein. In 1957, this real life psycho was arrested for the abduction and murder of a local woman. When police apprehended Gein at his farm, they discovered a horrific collection of knick knacks and furnishings made out of human body parts and skin from graves that he had been robbing in the night. Here is a list of items that were found in the Wisconsin farm house. I ripped it out of Wikipedia:</div>
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Whole human bones and fragments</div>
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wastebasket made of human skin</div>
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Human skin covering several chair seats</div>
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Skulls on his bedposts</div>
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Female skulls, some with the tops sawn off</div>
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Bowls made from human skulls</div>
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A corset made from a female torso skinned from shoulders to waist</div>
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Leggings made from human leg skin</div>
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Masks made from the skin from female heads</div>
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Mary Hogan's face mask in a paper bag</div>
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Mary Hogan's skull in a box</div>
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Bernice Worden's entire head in a burlap sack</div>
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Bernice Worden's heart in a saucepan on the stove</div>
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Nine vulvae in a shoe box</div>
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A young girl's dress and "the vulvas of two females judged to have been about fifteen years old"</div>
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A belt made from female human nipples</div>
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Four noses</div>
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A pair of lips on a window shade drawstring</div>
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A lampshade made from the skin of a human face</div>
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Fingernails from female fingers</div>
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<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;">Ed's dead mama had apparently taught the boy a lot of arts and crafts when she wasn't reading to him from the Bible and telling him what a shameful little masturbating bed wetter he was. He had one of those freaky Oedipal love/hate relationships with the old bag that went on in his head for years after she had died.</span></div>
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Ed was missing the old gal so much, that his biggest pet project was making a woman suit out of the skins he had collected from the boneyard and from a couple of women that he killed.</div>
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While Ed had a keen interest in native tribes that practiced cannibalism, there was no evidence that he had actually ingested any of the scraps he was playing with, despite the discovery of a human heart in a pan on the stove.</div>
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So Gein <i>wasn't</i> a cannibal, you say? Ah, no he wasn't. There is yet another degree we must take to complete the cannibal link.</div>
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The 1991 film based on the book by Thomas Harris, featured a character named Buffalo Bill, who was also modeled after Ed Gein as he was stitching together his own woman suit made from the skins of his victims. Buffalo Bill was not portrayed as a cannibal either.</div>
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The notorious Dr. Hannibal Lecter, played so well by Anthony Hopkins, did enjoy the rare and exotic meat of his fellow man. Hannibal the Cannibal was a prominent character in the book and movie. He helped the young agent Starling in her investigation of Buffalo Bill's heinous crimes.</div>
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There you have it: Vince Vaughn to Norman Bates to Ed Gein to Silence of the Lambs. Hooked to cannibalism in just three degrees. Until next week....</div>
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<br />Dana C. Kabelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13364961727027777878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791677582579434616.post-87864479716082935122014-09-15T11:35:00.001-07:002014-09-15T11:37:16.572-07:00For Whom The Dinner Bell Tolls<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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And tale so strange and unsettling that it just has to be true....</div>
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<b>The year was 1944 </b>and American fighter pilots were peppering the South Pacific with bombs in a ruthless retaliation to the attack on Pearl Harbor. After nearly three months of continuous raids of Futomi Harbor on the Island of Chichi Jima, just 700 miles south of Tokyo, the Japanese had surrendered and the Red Cross went in to clean up and patch up the survivors.</div>
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There were nine American flyboys shot down during the raids, but only one of them survived to tell the tale. 20 year old George Herbert Walker Bush was fortunate to glide his ruined plane further from the island than the others who had been shot down. He was plucked out of the ocean by the crew of the USS Finback. They found him clinging to the wreckage of his craft, vomiting and bleeding from the head. The only words he could muster were, "Happy to be aboard," when they brought him up on deck.</div>
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When some of the Japanese officers were captured and questioned as to the whereabouts of the other eight pilots who had swam to shore, General Yoshio Tachibana happily told them, "Yes, we captured six of them and they all received very kind treatment."</div>
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<b>HA!</b></div>
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The General's idea of "kind treatment" was akin to the kind treatment that Hannibal Lector showed his patients whenever he felt a bit peckish. For it was revealed through further trials and investigations that those captured pilots were clubbed, bayoneted, and mutilated before they were served up as a four course meal!</div>
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That's right, boys and girls. It seems that the military Asian aristocrats had a taste for "long pig" and a sick sense of humor. The General and his pals feasted on the pilots' livers and large chunks of meat that were stripped from their legs and boiled into a stew.</div>
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The fiendish General Tachibana liked the man meat so much that he became incensed when he found that one of the airmen had been buried before his liver had been removed.</div>
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"What the fuck?!" he reportedly shouted in a fit of child sized boot stomping anger. "That's my favorite part of gai-jin (foreign barbarian)!!!"</div>
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The General ordered the buried airman to be dug out of his grave and had the liver removed so he could enjoy it with his cream of sum yung guy soup.</div>
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In contrast to these atrocious and horrific deeds, the captured Japanese officers were most polite and cooperative to their captors. They were thought of as "gentle and soft-spoken." One of the men, Adml Kinizo Mori, a senior naval officer said that his friend, "Major Matoba brought a delicacy to a party in his quarters- it was a specially prepared dish of Airman Floyd Hall's liver.<b style="font-style: italic;"> I ate it pierced with bamboo sticks and cooked with soy sauce and vegetables." </b> Yum.</div>
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Matoba went on to convey that they believed the human "delicacies" to be good medicine for their stomachs.</div>
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Fortunately for Mr. Bush, he survived to become the 41st President of the United States. And fortunately for you, dear reader, he survived to have this picture taken and posted on the internet....</div>
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It's a damned good thing he wasn't wearing these when he was shot down. The Japanese would have fought to the death to get their mouths on those tasty gams!!!</div>
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<br />Dana C. Kabelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13364961727027777878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791677582579434616.post-76409603873620151372014-09-08T08:40:00.000-07:002014-09-08T08:40:53.233-07:00WE NEED A HERO...TO STOP THE CANNIBALSHello my friends. With the September 28 deadline for <a href="mailto:www.danakabel@gmail.com" target="_blank">submissions</a> to my Kannibal Cookbook story anthology coming very soon, I thought it might be a good time to start throwing my opinions around the web like paternity tests in a Jerry Springer Green Room. From now until publication of the aforementioned opus, I will desperately try to link all posts here to the topic of cannibalism. You will be surprised by either my creative endeavors or by how disturbingly close we all are to eating each other.<br />
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I have really tried to like the show Ray Donovan. Liev Schreiber is a cool, gritty actor. He makes a hell of an anti-hero. Jon Voight is an even cooler and grittier actor. He makes a hell of an anti-hero. I love a good bad guy or a bad good guy. Some of my favorite movies are about damaged sociopaths who barely function in society and live outside the rules. Think anything directed by Scorsese or anything written by John D. MacDonald. Think Ken Bruen's damaged alcoholic from hell, Jack Taylor for Jaysus sakes.<br />
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What's the draw? They're human. They're mortal. They have just enough of a measure of decency to outweigh their indecent compulsions. They can save the day without having to adhere to a code. If the really, really bad guys need killing, the anti-hero can generally get away with killing them and not losing any sleep over it.<br />
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Why is Frank Castle the Punisher? Because there are some people that need punishing without using their sleazy lawyer to manipulate a damaged system of justice. Sometimes the sleazy lawyer gets punished for good measure.<br />
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So I watch Ray Donovan, "Hollywood Fixer," with some kernel of expectation building inside me through each episode. The little critic in my head screams, "here it comes...here it comes...here it...oh. Shit. What happened? Did the horse fall down in the middle of the track? Did the lava stop boiling before it reached the peak of the volcano? Did the dude pull out of the dame before he could...well, you get the picture.<br />
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There is always a great deal of suspense in Ray Donovan's world. There is darkness, corruption, murder, and mayhem. There's extortion and drug use, violence and nudity. There are smarmy elitist rich people getting punched in the face. There was even the murder of a filthy scumbag pedophile priest.<br />
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The show has everything a guy who loves the anti-hero could want...but it's missing that something that keeps it from being great. Last night, I think I put my finger on it. That is good and bad.<br />
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Good because I don't have to figure out what it is anymore. I can stop wasting my time on a show that just isn't going to satisfy. I have surrendered that hour of my week to loftier ambitions. Perhaps I will use the time to work on this blog that I have barely paid attention to in the past year. Seriously, my last post was October of 2013. This year I have fruit ripening in the garden and I need to pimp my wares by telling the world wide web what I think of duds like Donovan.<br />
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Okay, here is the bad news: Despite having a sweet deal with Showtime, moderately capable writers, and an excellent cast of actors, RD is missing one essential ingredient. I don't care about anybody on the show. Not one...little...bit.<br />
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And that is because not one single character in the series has any kind of redeeming value. Every major character on the show is so severely flawed that I am left with the feeling that they have gotten away with something they should not have gotten away with. They sulk through every scene with very big chips on their shoulders. They are all selfish, manipulative assholes who bring wreck and ruin to every other life they come in contact with on the show. I sit on my couch for an hour watching people that only try to rise out of the muck enough to fall into another shit hole.<br />
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I can't even bring myself to like these characters when they are giving each other their own medicine. Ray is a borderline alcoholic thug who cheats on his wife and manipulates his brothers, father, and even his own children. His wife is a feisty red head who looks the other way when cash and prizes are dangled in front of her. I want to feel good for her when she decides to give Ray a taste of his own medicine by cheating on him with a cop, but she does it at the cost of neglecting her own children when they are in the most desperate need of a sane parent in their lives.<br />
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Ray's son is a moody, rage driven teenager who gets off on pummeling other kids and throwing a rival down a stairwell at school. His daughter came the closest to grabbing a morsel of sympathy when she fell in love with a black rapper that her father forbade her to see. But last night she ruined it *SPOILER ALERT* when she lied to the cops about witnessing her boyfriend's inevitable murder (you knew the poor bastard didn't have a chance from the very first episode).<br />
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I could go on with a laundry list for each and every character on this show, but I would have to write a part II to this post and I simply can't spend anymore time with these people. There are no good guys here. There are no heroes. No one even comes close.<br />
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As some of you have probably guessed, I have revived the barely beating heart of this blog to begin pimping my upcoming anthology on cannibalism, The Kannibal Cookbook. At this point you're asking, "what the hell does Ray Donovan have to do with cannibalism?"<br />
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Well my friends, I am not one to switch and bait using the tantalizing palette tickling theme of anthropophagy. So here is a link to a video of Ray Donovan's Liev Schreiber saving a photographer from being eaten alive by a real life cannibal!!!!<br />
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<a href="http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=SrAY4KDlNYk" target="_blank">Ray Donovan saves woman from being eaten!</a><br />
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Until next time, here is a picture of Sean Bean dressed like a very scary woman. My next post will be about his show that does have a hero I can root for: TNT's <strong>Legends</strong><br />
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<br />Dana C. Kabelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13364961727027777878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791677582579434616.post-42897934800303512602013-11-17T09:59:00.001-08:002013-11-17T09:59:09.546-08:00This is my most recent publication from the Halloween submissions at Thrills, Kills, n' Chills. <span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: '.HelveticaNeueUI'; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19px; white-space: nowrap;">http://tknc.wordpress.com/2013/10/29/halloween-special-dripped-with-blood-by-dana-c-kabel/</span><br />
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: '.HelveticaNeueUI'; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19px; white-space: nowrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: '.HelveticaNeueUI'; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19px; white-space: nowrap;">I know my blog is in serious need of upkeep, updates and so forth. I've been away from the short form for a bit, working on the novel and some longer stories.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: .HelveticaNeueUI;"><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-size: 15px; line-height: 19px; white-space: nowrap;">You may have noticed the absence of the short story links. A collection is in the works and I will give you news as I get the news.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: .HelveticaNeueUI;"><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-size: 15px; line-height: 19px; white-space: nowrap;">Peace.</span></span>Dana C. Kabelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13364961727027777878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791677582579434616.post-15233218035617225192013-04-15T04:10:00.001-07:002013-04-15T04:10:05.790-07:00BLAMEBLAME is up at Yellow Mama, one of my favorite E-Zines. You can get it here: <a href="http://blackpetalsks.tripod.com/yellowmama/id953.html">http://blackpetalsks.tripod.com/yellowmama/id953.html</a>Dana C. Kabelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13364961727027777878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791677582579434616.post-74990942645419774132013-03-12T21:52:00.002-07:002013-03-12T21:52:15.246-07:00The White Van Challenge
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">OMINOUS
IN WHITE<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">By
Dana C. Kabel<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Saddler, my office…please.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tom looked up from his desk and saw his boss disappear
behind the mahogany door. Patterson was undone; he never said please.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tom got up from his desk and followed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Please…come over to the window and look at this.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Another “please,” Tom noted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The view was beautiful from four stories up. There was a
park across the road with a jogging trail around a small lake, which meant
plenty of women in spandex shorts bouncing around it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“There!” Patterson hissed, stabbing a finger against the
glass.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tom followed the direction the finger was pointing in, to
the dirty white utility van parked across the street.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tinted windows in front, no windows in the back, mud over
the plate…a serial killer van.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>That was what they jokingly called them when he was a
kid…<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">stranger danger…look out for the
serial killer van!</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Y-you see it, don’t you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>If Tom hadn’t noticed it before, he certainly would have
when the van suddenly peeled away from the curb and tore down the road,
narrowly missing a crossing pedestrian.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Patterson stumbled back with his hand on his chest like
he had just been hit with something or was having a heart attack.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Jesus,” Tom said. “He almost killed that lady.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What the hell am I going to do?” Patterson buried his
face in his hands. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I…don’t know if there’s anything you can do at this
point,” Tom said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You idiot, you don’t understand…” Ah, this was the
Patterson he was used to.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“That van has been parked on my road every night for a
week now. When I leave in the morning, he follows me. And now he’s stalking me
here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Why don’t you call the cops?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Patterson laughed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I called the cops. They can’t do anything about a van
parked on a public street where parking is allowed. He tried to run me down a
couple of days ago…came within an inch of me, I swear. When I called the cops
again I found out why they won’t help me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tom raised his eyebrows waiting.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“That little prick, Murphy…in accounting? His uncle is
the head pig in the police department.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Murphy hated
Patterson, just as everyone else on the floor did. Two days before Patterson announced
that as a result of the faltering economy that raises and bonuses were indefinitely
suspended, he went out and bought a brand new Lexus to replace the year-old
Lexus he had been driving.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The employees hated Tom too, because someone let it slip
that he did, in fact, receive the yearly bonus and raise. Tom was the number
two. He was the Smithers to Patterson’s Mr. Burns.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Still, if someone is threatening you…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“That’s the problem. This bastard hasn’t made an actual
threat. Murphy’s uncle told me, you’re a fifty year old guy living alone with
no children. A van parked outside your house just isn’t that sinister. Call me
if they actually try something. Then he laughed at me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Man,” Tom said. “Well sir, I wish I could do something,
but…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“That’s why I called you in here. You’re
ex-military…fought in the war and all that…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I didn’t really see a lot of action over…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Don’t bullshit me, Saddler. I know you killed people
over there.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I don’t know what you’re suggesting, Mr. Patterson, but
I’m not going to kill a guy for sitting in a van across from your house.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Jesus Christ, you sound like the cops.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tom shook his head and started to walk. Patterson
wouldn’t fire him. Nobody would put up with the shit that he put up with.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Wait, Tom…please…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The third please was almost sickening.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’m not asking you to kill anyone. I just…I need
protection. Could you just…help me, until I figure out what this fucker wants?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I have a wife and kids at home and I already put in
fifty plus hours a week here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’ll pay you. A lot. And…and you can take a couple of
weeks off when this is over. Go on a nice vacation with the family.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>At quitting time, the other employees left with the usual
dirty looks and smirks on their faces. There was kiss-ass Tom, staying late
again. The only guy with his nose planted so firmly up the boss’s ass that he
couldn’t see sideways.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“See ya, dick,” the Murphy kid said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tom glared at him until he was out the door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A half-hour later, Patterson emerged from his office. He
was staggering and there was booze on his breath.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“A productive day, sir?” Tom chided.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Fuck you, Saddler. Let’s go.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tom shut his computer off and got up. He had the whole
afternoon to realize that Patterson had no intention of following through on
his promises. He would talk his way out of floating anything more than a mere
pittance to Tom and indefinitely put off the two weeks’ vacation he was
promised. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Here,” Patterson said when they got in the elevator. He
pushed a brown bag into Tom’s hands. There was a gun in the bag, and some loose
bullets rattling around.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What the fuck! I don’t need this.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yes you do. Now make sure it’s loaded!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It was dark outside. Patterson was holding onto the side
of the building when the van screeched to a halt on the sidewalk. The side
panel door slid open. Patterson screamed shrilly. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tom turned around and smashed him in the face with the
butt of the .38. Patterson fell to his knees trying to hold in the blood that
was spraying out of his broken nose.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You fucker, Saddler!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tom heeled back and kicked him in the ribs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Hurry up,” he shouted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The Murphy kid jumped out of the van and grabbed one end.
Tom grabbed the legs and they threw him into the van like a sack of shit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You’ll make things right when you get his job?” Murphy
asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah,” Tom said, handing him the .38. “Here’s your first
bonus.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
Dana C. Kabelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13364961727027777878noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791677582579434616.post-83019807546053380702013-02-22T22:40:00.000-08:002013-02-22T22:40:09.913-08:00Buy it Before You Try It!My next piece of twisted writing can be found in an anthology from Gutter Books called <strong><em>Out of the Gutter 8</em></strong>. The story is called You Oughtta be in Pictures that I should have been pimping in time for Valentine's day. It's a rather romantic little piece of flash about sex and porno and snuff...er, I mean stuff.<br />
<br />
Anyway, as much as I would love to put up a link where you can read it for free, you have to BUY it! Moohoohaha (evil laugh). It is my second story in one of the Out of the Gutter print offerings and you can purchase it here in solid form or for your lovely electronic reading device. I prefer Kindle...when you get tired of reading, you can watch porn on it. Or Netflix. Here's the link for purchasing OOTG 8 <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Out-Gutter-8-Matthew-Louis/dp/0982688792/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1361600936&sr=1-1&keywords=out+of+the+gutter">http://www.amazon.com/Out-Gutter-8-Matthew-Louis/dp/0982688792/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1361600936&sr=1-1&keywords=out+of+the+gutter</a><br />
<br />
As well as a lovely picture...<br />
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<img alt="" id="main-image" rel="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/81We39Pg6ML._SL1360_.jpg" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51n-A%2BsmZWL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA300_SH20_OU01_.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: inline;" /><br />
<br />
Yep, that's my name on the cover. Yep, I'm bragging about that. bitch.Dana C. Kabelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13364961727027777878noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791677582579434616.post-42609260666149908132013-02-22T22:21:00.002-08:002013-02-22T22:21:44.024-08:00Crystal Freaking Meth BabyOkay, I really can't believe I forgot to put this one up. My friend from across the pond, David Barber, gave this story that I had so much fun writing, a home at <strong><em>Thrillers, Killers 'n' Chillers.</em></strong> Despite my various sultry dalliances with every brand of alcohol under the sun...including Listerine and rubbing alcohol, I have never taken methamphetamine. Met lots of folks who have. Such a fun drug...for other people to take. I guess the closest I have come to that kind of sick high is drinking lethal doses of lethally strong coffee. Oh well, if any authentic meth heads have a problem with the real feel of the story, drop me a line. I'm not in the book, so you'll have to try every variation of every ten digit sequence of numbers you can list and systematically eliminate everyone who answers the phone that isn't me. It won't take you long...if you're a real meth head. Or you can read and comment here <a href="http://thrillskillsnchills.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2012-10-07T12:33:00%2B01:00&max-results=10&start=8&by-date=false">http://thrillskillsnchills.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2012-10-07T12:33:00%2B01:00&max-results=10&start=8&by-date=false</a>Dana C. Kabelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13364961727027777878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791677582579434616.post-6904575743017267722013-02-22T21:36:00.000-08:002013-02-22T21:36:06.901-08:00The Bad Blogger<strong>I admit it...</strong>I am bad. In my forty-three years on this earth, there have been many things that <br />I have been bad at. At various times in my life I have been a bad student, a bad athlete, a bad musician, a bad friend, father, husband, worker...etcettera etcettera, blah-blah-blah. Never mind all of that, I did not intend this to be a post on self-degredation and self-loathing. Nay, my ego demands that I brag from time to time about all of the things that I am good at.<br />
<br />
For instance, you will never hear me admit that I am a bad writer. My writing is something that I have been complemented on since I was a small boy, and I have had nothing but time to improve upon it.<br />
<br />
Having said that, a good writer does not a good blogger make. My entries are few and far between. The only time I pay attention to this ethereal little corner of the Internet that I can kind of claim as my own, is when I have a story appearing somewhere in print or evailable online. <br />
<br />
This serves as an attempt to plug my product and archive a new published story. However, in light of the recent geographical changes in my life, I seem to have forgotten this dark little hideout entirely.<br />
<br />
The greatest part of this sin is that I have had work published that I have plugged on facebook and have not archived or plugged here in six months. I was almost afraid that when I tried to log on, I would find virtual yellow police tape roping off entrance to my own crime scene.<br />
<br />
So to begin mending this grievous error, I am announcing that way back on December 10, 2012, Court Merrigan published one of my favorite stories in the Bareknuckles Pulp online magazine over at Out of the Gutter. <strong><em>Calling Home</em></strong> is featured in issue no. 20, and you can find it here <a href="http://www.outofthegutteronline.com/2012/12/bareknuckles-pulp-no-20-calling-home.html">http://www.outofthegutteronline.com/2012/12/bareknuckles-pulp-no-20-calling-home.html</a> as well as on the link to the left along with all of my other published works. Thanks Court. Next time I won't drop the ball on timely pimping.Dana C. Kabelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13364961727027777878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791677582579434616.post-75908032968164715422012-08-16T19:10:00.000-07:002012-08-16T19:10:00.911-07:00Sleep deprivation does crazy things to the ordinary person. Just think of what it does to someone who is already mentally bent. For instance, for a couple of weeks I was lucky to get one or two hours of shut-eye a night and spent my days enjoying:<br />
-jitters<br />
-ringing in my ears<br />
-dizziness<br />
-headaches<br />
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When I thought it couldn't get any worse, it did. There was a follow-up of:<br />
-disorientation<br />
-hearing voices, and my favorite...<br />
-hallucinations.<br />
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It turned out that some of my arthritis medication was tweaking with my cholesterol and high blood pressure meds and with some Frankenstein like experimentation, things are pretty much back to normal. Well...crazy normal.<br />
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During this strange period that happened just a couple of weeks ago, I did a shit load of writing. Unfortunately, a lot of it is what your would expect from a disoriented, hallucinating insomniac.<br />
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I also had one of my favorite stories run by Joe Clifford over at The Flash Fiction Offensive. It is <em>called Nothing Left To Lose</em>, and it can be called a homage to a famous scene from The Deer Hunter.<br />
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While I did hock the shit out of this story on facebook, I thought that I wrote a little something about it here and put the link up over on the right. In fact, I would have bet money that I did so. Must have been dreaming...or day dreaming at night...or hallucinating or whatever.<br />
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Anyway, here it is damnit. I'd apologize, but...what the hell would it mean anyway?<br />
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find it here <a href="http://www.outofthegutteronline.com/2012/07/nothing-left-to-lose.html">http://www.outofthegutteronline.com/2012/07/nothing-left-to-lose.html</a><br />
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read it and weep bitches.Dana C. Kabelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13364961727027777878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791677582579434616.post-17293162803195812112012-07-30T16:23:00.000-07:002012-07-30T16:23:10.261-07:00We all float down here.Let me tell you a little about the world I live in. Tony Soprano is still breaking legs, Max Cady is doing a thousand pullups in his prison cell, waiting for the day he walks out into the world to bring vengence to the lawyer that sent him up the river, Michael Corleone is in the men's room looking for the gun taped behind the toilet, and Travis Bickle is standing in front of the mirror with a gun saying, "You talkin' to me?"<br />
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I grew up on this shit. I am the Cable Guy; raised by the boob tube and nurtured by the silver screen and pulp fiction. Call me crazy, but when Michael Madsen dances to Stuck In The Middle With You and slices the cop's ear off with a straight razor I get a little tingle up my spine.<br />
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And yes, The Deer Hunter was one of my favorite movies of all time. Yet when I wrote the story, Nothing Left To Lose, I wasn't consciously thinking about it for one second.<br />
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I was on facebook and saw a post from Joe Clifford that my favorite flash site, The Flash Fiction Offensive was in need of submissions.<br />
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The first story I had published online was Catching Up, which was accepted by DZ Allen for his Muzzleflash magazine. Mr. Allen was an assistant editor of Out of the Gutter, and Muzzleflash was his baby.<br />
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He went on to accept a handful of other stories from me over the course of a couple of years before he decided to shut the site down and concentrate on his own writing.<br />
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After a short hiatus, The Flash Fiction Offensive was born; created by a couple of other assistant editors from Out of the Gutter.<br />
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As anyone reading this probably knows, eventually the very talented David Barber eventually took over duties at FFO and did an exceptional job. Now Joe Clifford and Tom Pitts are at the helm continuing to put out quality fiction.<br />
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Am I biased? Sure I am. But I can afford to be. Read any story in the FFO archives by any of the writers who have been published there and you will find some damned fine stuff.<br />
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So when I saw the post calling for submissions at oh, two something in the morning, I put a pot of coffee on, sat down to my laptop, and pounded out the first thing that came to mind.<br />
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It was fast, it was violent, and yes it was inspired by one of my favorite movies of all time. But I really wasn't think Deer Hunter when I wrote it. The next day when I read it and carved a couple hundred words off...yeah, I saw it then. A similarity, a homage that bleed out of my subconscious.<br />
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Man was I happy when I read Joe Clifford's flattering introduction and saw that he pointed out the connection. So what are you waiting for, go here http://www.outofthegutteronline.com/2012/07/nothing-left-to-lose.html and read it. And while you're at it, peruse the archives of this great Ezine. Or else. I know where you live. :)Dana C. Kabelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13364961727027777878noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791677582579434616.post-662268878970840262012-07-09T22:46:00.001-07:002012-07-09T22:46:16.961-07:00Work work work it.I am very pleased to have had a story just recently published in Shotgun Honey. I had a couple of previous stories rejected by them, so it was that much sweeter to have the last story that I submitted to them accepted.<br />
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Shotgun Honey certainly raises the bar for the quality of submissions, and that is a good thing. Nothing can motivate you more than a rejection that is accompanied by words of encouragement to try try again. It tightens things up the way they should be. Go here to check it out.<br />
<a href="http://www.shotgunhoney.net/author/dana-c-kabel">http://www.shotgunhoney.net/author/dana-c-kabel</a>Dana C. Kabelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13364961727027777878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791677582579434616.post-49785689869889566342012-06-15T17:48:00.001-07:002012-06-15T17:48:41.411-07:00I'm back and you know what that means; new stories. Look to the left and you will find links to Time Bomb, which appears in the new Flash Fiction Offensive. You will also find Friends Without Benefits at Yellow Mama. I love both of these e-zines and I am proud to appear in both.<br />
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At the end of the month I will have yet another story in another fine e-zine, Shotgun Honey. Until next time...Dana C. Kabelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13364961727027777878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791677582579434616.post-18471643090317997592012-05-20T20:50:00.001-07:002012-05-20T20:50:31.982-07:00A lot of action on the writing front. I have a new story up at David Barber's The Flash Fiction Offensive. Click here for a little Poison <a href="http://theflashfictionoffensive.blogspot.com/">http://theflashfictionoffensive.blogspot.com/</a> <br />
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In June I will be the featured writer at FFO with a longer short story appearing along with bio and pic taken by my lovely wife, Lisa.<br />
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June will also bring stories of mine in both Yellow Mama and Shotgun Honey. I love writing short stories, but I have been putting most of my efforts into my current novel. Hopefully the hard work will pay off.Dana C. Kabelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13364961727027777878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791677582579434616.post-72504030809491669382012-04-19T19:49:00.002-07:002012-04-19T19:49:53.649-07:00Just logged on to find that Blogger has a <em>BRAND NEW LOOK! WHOOPDY FUCKING DOO!</em><br />
Translation: Blogger just hid all of your shit again. Good luck posting today!<br />
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Well Papa's got a brand new bag. And by bag I mean story. Check it out here at the awesome new Ezine, <strong><em>Near To The Knuckle</em></strong>. The story is called <em>Drinkin' on the Job. </em>Guess what it is about.<br />
<a href="http://www.close2thebone.co.uk/">http://www.close2thebone.co.uk/</a> Hopefully I can paste the picture of the girl with the generous rack that they assigned when I posted on facebook. Please check it out and tell me what you think about it...good or bad. I love constructive criticism.Dana C. Kabelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13364961727027777878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791677582579434616.post-9387143474084570282012-03-26T17:39:00.001-07:002012-03-26T17:39:14.572-07:00Been a while, huh? As if I am addressing an audience that has been waiting with baited breath for my next post. Yes, I have been working on my novel and no, I haven't given up writing short fiction. It has just been a while since I have submitted any.<br />
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So, here you go. The poop is called <em>Free Like Sherry</em> and it is at A Twist of Noir <a href="http://a-twist-of-noir.blogspot.com/">http://a-twist-of-noir.blogspot.com/</a>Dana C. Kabelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13364961727027777878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791677582579434616.post-77486908790706156762012-01-14T15:40:00.000-08:002012-01-14T15:40:40.205-08:00Writer's Cell Block at Black Heart MagazineThis is my first ever reprint, and I am very excited. Writer's Cell Block first appeared in Twist of Noir, which is a fine E-zine where I am looking forward to having more work appear. But I really dig the layout of Black Heart Magazine...plus they put a picture of my mug along with it.<br />
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In other news, Thug of the Day will continue shortly...stay tuned.<br />
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<a href="http://blackheartmagazine.com/2012/01/13/writers-cell-block-by-dana-kabel/">http://blackheartmagazine.com/2012/01/13/writers-cell-block-by-dana-kabel/</a>Dana C. Kabelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13364961727027777878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791677582579434616.post-35801655332842922772011-12-25T21:21:00.000-08:002011-12-25T21:36:01.420-08:00Fucking Santa<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiefYPqQxTrfIWYcuYscELg44bDt44YSwrbb_AuoOClGtM6NXQ7fwgagEzZa1G9ImRwD-I1fLHqBh4aGo4L06fsNPIga-wXUGHGDwJk3mCW1L8Zri8eJThrfDmV2BrCHRpb7DNlyCiKHA8/s1600/badsanta.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiefYPqQxTrfIWYcuYscELg44bDt44YSwrbb_AuoOClGtM6NXQ7fwgagEzZa1G9ImRwD-I1fLHqBh4aGo4L06fsNPIga-wXUGHGDwJk3mCW1L8Zri8eJThrfDmV2BrCHRpb7DNlyCiKHA8/s1600/badsanta.jpg" /></a></div>
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Okay, there's a good reason I opted to have the adults only warning upon entering this blog. Case in point is the title of my latest story at David Barber's Flash Fiction Offensive. I guess it is safe to tell you the name of my story is Fucking Santa...as in somebody actually fucking...Santa.<br />
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I know you were probably thinking, nay...hoping that the title was indicative of an expression of anger. As in, "I didn't get a pony for Christmas? Fucking Santa!"<br />
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But no, as you will find out when you read it; Fucking Santa is about, well, fucking Santa. Go ahead and enjoy. You have a whole year to get your name back on the "nice" list. <a href="http://theflashfictionoffensive.blogspot.com/2011/12/christmas-grit-fucking-santa-by-dana-c.html">http://theflashfictionoffensive.blogspot.com/2011/12/christmas-grit-fucking-santa-by-dana-c.html</a>Dana C. Kabelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13364961727027777878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791677582579434616.post-80010951884631823652011-12-22T20:18:00.000-08:002011-12-22T20:18:55.361-08:00THUG OF THE DAY: KRAMPUS<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;">THUG OF THE DAY: <span style="color: #38761d;">KRAMPUS; SANTA'S DEMON SIDEKICK</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfZ4K7H964av9JTlE8K4AIzw7rDE8CS635B2vYiZZp2QvZo99c-EqDnynr4RvdpanCd7QxzTFPD7Gxi0IKm0W1gPFo9NF6lU8ZX9NSj3HXRwrE8gpMu_Nz1Hx87_73pb5fuRSt0-iXfO8/s1600/220px-Krampus_Morzger_Pass_Salzburg_2008_04.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfZ4K7H964av9JTlE8K4AIzw7rDE8CS635B2vYiZZp2QvZo99c-EqDnynr4RvdpanCd7QxzTFPD7Gxi0IKm0W1gPFo9NF6lU8ZX9NSj3HXRwrE8gpMu_Nz1Hx87_73pb5fuRSt0-iXfO8/s320/220px-Krampus_Morzger_Pass_Salzburg_2008_04.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">He's making a list, he's checking it twice, and if you've been naughty your Christmas won't be so nice. According to ancient German folklore, while St. Nicholas was visiting the homes of good little girls and boys to reward them with toys and sweets, Krampus visited the bad children to mete out their punishment.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Sometimes Krampus would leave coal and switches in a naughty child's boots for their parents to swat them with. Those were the kids that got off easy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Krampus carried switches to punish you with himself if you were bad enough. Imagine waking to a hoofed and horned demon with red eyes and a forked tongue, pulling you out of bed to lash your hide.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Worse yet, sometimes Krampus would bring a wash tub to drown you in, or a sack to carry you off to a cave where he would eat you. The very worst boys and girls would be dragged out of their beds and carried to Hell.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Christmastime had something for everyone to look forward to.</span><br />
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<br />Dana C. Kabelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13364961727027777878noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791677582579434616.post-61713299218894482152011-12-17T20:50:00.000-08:002011-12-17T21:15:02.211-08:00<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;">THUG OF THE DAY: <span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Erzsébet</span> </span></span> <span style="color: black;">"</span><span style="color: #cc0000;">BLOOD QUEEN</span><span style="color: black;">" Báthory </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvoCNOSwgcOegmIafRtMOmS5qHBkNOOZx0_NLSXN4o7zLhLET3r0SPalLeD_eEFiVOh0CzO3xYGbxKCNsu4c7Hu6dA2Wm5SZEc6zE8Fqh4C7A9_-NQAA6kzdCo1yaQ5bo1Q8DD2eNG6vk/s1600/erzsebet+bathory" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvoCNOSwgcOegmIafRtMOmS5qHBkNOOZx0_NLSXN4o7zLhLET3r0SPalLeD_eEFiVOh0CzO3xYGbxKCNsu4c7Hu6dA2Wm5SZEc6zE8Fqh4C7A9_-NQAA6kzdCo1yaQ5bo1Q8DD2eNG6vk/s1600/erzsebet+bathory" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Ladies, the next time you hear someone whining about the cruel animal testing your favorite cosmetic company performs just so you can hold on to your youthful visage, throw this one in their face.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The nefarious "Blood Countess" of Hungary was willing to go the extra evil mile to preserve her beauty. Erzsébet Báthory (1560-1614) bathed in the blood of her victims in an effort to turn the clock back on aging.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The Blood Countess was rumored to have tortured and killed over 650 young women along with four of her friends who all happened to be fans of the occult.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">While the body count and the blood baths may have been inflated to bolster her evil image, the countess was found guilty of only 80 murders. But since she didn't show up for the trial, she was never convicted.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Bloody Liz may have escaped the fate of her collaborators, who were all put to death immediately, but Hungary's Finest caught up with her at home eventually. Her aristocratic status saved her from immediate death, but it didn't save her from being imprisoned for the rest of her life in a room in her own castle.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">King Matthias sent the royal masons to brick her up, leaving a couple of small slits to pass food through. The bitch lived for four years after that.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the height of her gruesome activities, the countess mutilated the hands, faces and genitalia of her victims. She tortured them with fire, blades, and needles. Sometimes she would bite the flesh off from their faces and arms or perform bizarre surgeries on them while they were alive.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">She appeared to turn it over to the Lord in her final days, and was reportedly heard singing religious hymns and praying to God before her death.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But after she died a paper was found that she had written a prayer to the devil on, imploring the prince of darkness to send 99 cats to kill King Matthias and the people who had brought her to justice. Crazy kid.</span><br />
<br />Dana C. Kabelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13364961727027777878noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791677582579434616.post-61647948228059433022011-12-13T03:41:00.000-08:002011-12-13T03:41:51.290-08:00In Hopes That St. Nicholas...Yes, boys and girls, it's that most wonderful time of the year....ho,ho,ho, and mistletoe...pine trees and dancing lights, candy canes and warm cookies. And don't forget old Santa Claus. That jolly old elf comes down the chimney to bring presents and happiness and double fisted vigilante justice to good little kiddies all over the world.<br />
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My present to you is my latest story at David Barber's The Flash Fiction Offensive. READ IT OR ELSE!!! And have yourself a Merry Little Christmas. <a href="http://theflashfictionoffensive.blogspot.com/2011/12/christmas-grit-in-hopes-that-st.html">http://theflashfictionoffensive.blogspot.com/2011/12/christmas-grit-in-hopes-that-st.html</a>Dana C. Kabelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13364961727027777878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791677582579434616.post-37531622157773701172011-12-10T14:47:00.001-08:002011-12-10T15:35:43.839-08:00<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;"><strong>THUG OF THE DAY: <span style="color: black;">JIMMY "THE GENT" BURKE</span></strong></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmMR-tVP3ly4t1Wzh2XtlTH-pAgTdDXwBenIJUqAiuqKr2s7AJCMoJsvD5PYB3Ep84VK5VRG0DyKbqJs823Uv6fmRlzKoxPS436oS5skwYeKuYJX9XdQudZoUosU0dMcH3aySse-0waCI/s1600/JimmytheGent.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmMR-tVP3ly4t1Wzh2XtlTH-pAgTdDXwBenIJUqAiuqKr2s7AJCMoJsvD5PYB3Ep84VK5VRG0DyKbqJs823Uv6fmRlzKoxPS436oS5skwYeKuYJX9XdQudZoUosU0dMcH3aySse-0waCI/s1600/JimmytheGent.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">You probably think of a slicked back Robert DeNiro in a sharkskin suit in the film, "Goodfellas" when you hear him mentioned. But </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The real Jimmy Burke (called Jimmy Conway in the movie) was not given his nickname because of the way he dressed, but for his habit of tipping the truck drivers whose cargo he hijacked.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">He did take their driver's licenses so that they knew that he knew where they lived, but they got $50 to forget his face.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Jimmy was an associate of the Lucchese crime family and the alleged mastermind behind the infamous Lufthansa heist in 1978. Jimmy and his crew stole approximately $6 million in currency and jewels from a cargo building at JFK International Airport.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It is likely that Jimmy was responsible for the murders of nine people following the heist to tie up loose ends and avoid being implicated in the crime and to keep more of the loot for himself. Over the course of his career, Burke was rumored to be involved in over 50 murders, though he was only ever convicted of one.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Famous Mob turncoat, Henry Hill testified against his old friend and said that Burke had "whacked out" a drug dealer and con man by the name of Richard Eaton.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Sentenced to life in prison in 1985, Jimmy The Gent served over ten years at Wende Correctional Facility in Alden, NY. He died in 1996 while being treated for lung cancer at Roswell Medical Center in Buffalo, NY.</span><br />
<br />Dana C. Kabelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13364961727027777878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791677582579434616.post-47758230986354616512011-12-02T13:44:00.001-08:002011-12-03T07:51:32.365-08:00THUG OF THE DAY: VIRGINIA HILL, MOB MOLL<span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">THUG OF THE DAY: <span style="color: black;">VIRGINIA HILL</span></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4H5Izt4WznLoZsi1WpP_pUQ-T2VXDUQ6nnYXrqVAOafrTbRrNrsfZeebjfaIC666qDUszkMmbbHRBNhKbBCXKfLBnI4IXsjxQYMy5e42xNEFf8c3P-VE-1Etzig2c3A7ijD2r2lL20gc/s1600/3-1-Virginia-Hill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4H5Izt4WznLoZsi1WpP_pUQ-T2VXDUQ6nnYXrqVAOafrTbRrNrsfZeebjfaIC666qDUszkMmbbHRBNhKbBCXKfLBnI4IXsjxQYMy5e42xNEFf8c3P-VE-1Etzig2c3A7ijD2r2lL20gc/s1600/3-1-Virginia-Hill.jpg" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> No need to check your eyes dear reader, the thug of the day is a beautiful female. I searched far and wide for a bad girl worthy of the thug label, and I believe the late Miss Hill fits the criteria.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Virginia Hill (1916-1966) a.k.a. The Flamingo, was a classic gangster moll who was associated with Al Capone, Frank Nitti, and Bugsy Siegel; who she met when she left Chicago to chase her dream of being a Hollywood movie star.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">She never made it to the silver screen, but she did make it to the wedding alter and got hitched to Bugsy in a quickie Mexican ceremony.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Virginia was extremely jealous and had a quick temper; two things that didn't mix well with Bugsy's philandering ways. At one time she nearly dislocated actress Wendy Barrie's jaw when she found out Bugsy was messing around with her.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">After Bugsy was murdered in a mob hit in the former home of Rudolph Valentino, Virginia stayed active in the underworld as a mob courier.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">She was a star witness in the Kefauver Commission hearings. When asked why she was so trusted by the mob, Virginia shocked the courtroom by replying, "that it was because of her unmatched talent for performing oral sex."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In 1961 she was out of money and in fear of both the Mob and the IRS, so she swallowed a handful of sleeping pills and laid down in a deep snowbank and took her final sleep. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>Dana C. Kabelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13364961727027777878noreply@blogger.com0