A BLAST FROM THE PAST - Circa 2012 - Stephen Obler now aka FRANKIE NEPTUNE
The Three G’s
Greasy, Grimy, Gooey too
That’s what’s going to become of you
You beat it out of here twice before
But it’s now you’ll finally meet with such unimagined and prolonged gore
Greasy, Grimy, Gooey too
That’s what’s going to become of you
You beat it out of here twice before
But it’s now you’ll finally meet with such unimagined and prolonged gore
|
Mini Wong Fong
|
Wong Fong or MWF was the best in the business. A sadist extraordinaire, he is all about hurting and killing people for profit. Mini’s services are expensive. That’s why he travels throughout the country and around the world, first class, with all expenses paid. This also goes for his traveling companion and life partner Fernando.
The pair strikes an unusual contrast. Fernando dresses in the deepest black. He has no idea what his lover does when they travel. The subservient Fernando remains locked in a hotel closet, hanging in chains with a ball gag. He awaits MFW’s return. When the assignment is complete, they retreat to their desert castle. It is a place of pain and sodomy in Arizona. MWF always takes a different route and/or mode of transportation for their return. The anticipation building in Fernando not knowing when or how they will arrive at the castle for their games to begin. His torturous anticipation is so gratifying to MWF. They make quite the couple. READ MORE |
It's The End of The World as We KNEW it
Reggie Benangin had always been this way. He couldn’t do anything right. The following is true - Though not even Polish, he couldn’t screw in a light bulb. When growing up in Westfield, New Jersey, his father knew never to ask Reggie to cut the grass. Every time Reggie came within a few feet of the gas lawn mower it would start to sputter and would soon stall.
Frustration was hard to hide on Mr. Benangin’s face when he would try to teach his only son how to use the elementary items of a tool box. Reggie couldn’t drive a nail without hitting his thumb.
READ MORE
Reggie Benangin had always been this way. He couldn’t do anything right. The following is true - Though not even Polish, he couldn’t screw in a light bulb. When growing up in Westfield, New Jersey, his father knew never to ask Reggie to cut the grass. Every time Reggie came within a few feet of the gas lawn mower it would start to sputter and would soon stall.
Frustration was hard to hide on Mr. Benangin’s face when he would try to teach his only son how to use the elementary items of a tool box. Reggie couldn’t drive a nail without hitting his thumb.
READ MORE
Don’t call me Dipsey Doodle
(From The Brewery Boys Cheese Ball Challenge)
Clyde was exploring Brooklyn - after arriving in New York City from his hometown somewhere in the Midwest. He was discharged from the orphanage where the Nuns’ found him on their doorstep as a two day old baby.
He wanted to see the world and left the only home he had ever known without leaving a trace. That was two weeks after his eighteenth birthday when Clyde took a buss to New York City.
READ MORE
Three Minute Read
(From The Brewery Boys Cheese Ball Challenge)
Clyde was exploring Brooklyn - after arriving in New York City from his hometown somewhere in the Midwest. He was discharged from the orphanage where the Nuns’ found him on their doorstep as a two day old baby.
He wanted to see the world and left the only home he had ever known without leaving a trace. That was two weeks after his eighteenth birthday when Clyde took a buss to New York City.
READ MORE
Three Minute Read
Russia, Russia, Russia
There existed in Russia a small group of intelligence operatives left over from the KGB. They are known as Sputniks.
From Wikipedia:
"Sputnik was the first artificial Earth satellite. The Soviet Union launched it into an elliptical low Earth orbit on October 4th 1957, orbiting for three weeks before its batteries died, then silently for two more months, before falling back into the atmosphere."
One can easily configure the human equivalent of Sputnik in the ark of a career in the Russian intelligence services. By mere speculative deduction, there is an excellent chance of identifying why these operatives are labeled Sputniks.
In the United States intelligence service, they're called losers.
READ MORE
5 Minute Read
There existed in Russia a small group of intelligence operatives left over from the KGB. They are known as Sputniks.
From Wikipedia:
"Sputnik was the first artificial Earth satellite. The Soviet Union launched it into an elliptical low Earth orbit on October 4th 1957, orbiting for three weeks before its batteries died, then silently for two more months, before falling back into the atmosphere."
One can easily configure the human equivalent of Sputnik in the ark of a career in the Russian intelligence services. By mere speculative deduction, there is an excellent chance of identifying why these operatives are labeled Sputniks.
In the United States intelligence service, they're called losers.
READ MORE
5 Minute Read
Tomorrow Never Knows
The AICIU (The Artificial Intelligence Crimes Investigations Unit) of the New York City Police Department handles more AI crimes than ever before. A slew of potential AI crimes continues to be committed. Technically, most are not illegal until after the incident(s) are perpetrated.
Cocaine and LSD had the same history. Both not listed as illegal drugs until the law caught up to date with them. Until that time, they were not illegal.
These new AI related potential criminal incidents have greatly increased. The New York State Legislator deemed it necessary to update (in real time) the increasingly outdated NSYPL (New York State Penal Law.) The goal simple: To create a mechanism to keep up with, identify and outpace the rapid changing responsibility and criminal culpability of the AI reality.
Detective First Grade Brian O’Donnell Moresby of the NYPD’s AICIU has been ordered to provide information to the New York State Legislature. It is a closed-door meeting. He is to facilitate an understanding as to a new methodology the politicians should consider. A new strategic timetable method of updating the law.
READ MORE:
7 Minute Read
The AICIU (The Artificial Intelligence Crimes Investigations Unit) of the New York City Police Department handles more AI crimes than ever before. A slew of potential AI crimes continues to be committed. Technically, most are not illegal until after the incident(s) are perpetrated.
Cocaine and LSD had the same history. Both not listed as illegal drugs until the law caught up to date with them. Until that time, they were not illegal.
These new AI related potential criminal incidents have greatly increased. The New York State Legislator deemed it necessary to update (in real time) the increasingly outdated NSYPL (New York State Penal Law.) The goal simple: To create a mechanism to keep up with, identify and outpace the rapid changing responsibility and criminal culpability of the AI reality.
Detective First Grade Brian O’Donnell Moresby of the NYPD’s AICIU has been ordered to provide information to the New York State Legislature. It is a closed-door meeting. He is to facilitate an understanding as to a new methodology the politicians should consider. A new strategic timetable method of updating the law.
READ MORE:
7 Minute Read
Cogito Ergo Sum
Cogito Ergo Sum
For the past ten years, Frankie returns to a run-down industrial part of Staten Island that faces New Jersey around the end of January. He is drawn to this place. He instinctively knows when it is time for a visit. It is home to a longshoreman old-timer bar on the shores by the Kill Van Kull.
Frankie took a drunk Merchant semen there from lower Manhattan when he drove a taxi overnights during his college days in 1971.
After dropping off the fare, he entered this bar to drain the dragon before dead-heading back to Manhattan. An older, tough-looking crowd populated this establishment. Once drawing the attention and silence of the patrons upon entering, it turned out to be an uneventful 1971 bitter cold winter night at the bar. Frankie had all but forgotten this brief episode until ten years ago.
***
Today, Frankie contends this bar only appears at the deadest time of winter. The wind must be able to chill one to the bone as it blows down the dark and desolate street of those 19th century worn smooth cobblestones. This is where the 1971 anachronism of the bar sits.
The bar has no name, and it is 1971 every time Frankie returns. Nothing changes, and none of the patrons get any older. The warm beer is still 25 cents a glass, and the pretzels remain stale. The food is still cheap and lousy. There is still sawdust on the floor.
The visits always seem so real.
READ MORE:
4 minute read
Cogito Ergo Sum
For the past ten years, Frankie returns to a run-down industrial part of Staten Island that faces New Jersey around the end of January. He is drawn to this place. He instinctively knows when it is time for a visit. It is home to a longshoreman old-timer bar on the shores by the Kill Van Kull.
Frankie took a drunk Merchant semen there from lower Manhattan when he drove a taxi overnights during his college days in 1971.
After dropping off the fare, he entered this bar to drain the dragon before dead-heading back to Manhattan. An older, tough-looking crowd populated this establishment. Once drawing the attention and silence of the patrons upon entering, it turned out to be an uneventful 1971 bitter cold winter night at the bar. Frankie had all but forgotten this brief episode until ten years ago.
***
Today, Frankie contends this bar only appears at the deadest time of winter. The wind must be able to chill one to the bone as it blows down the dark and desolate street of those 19th century worn smooth cobblestones. This is where the 1971 anachronism of the bar sits.
The bar has no name, and it is 1971 every time Frankie returns. Nothing changes, and none of the patrons get any older. The warm beer is still 25 cents a glass, and the pretzels remain stale. The food is still cheap and lousy. There is still sawdust on the floor.
The visits always seem so real.
READ MORE:
4 minute read
The Dive
It was a beautiful brisk Manhattan autumn evening in 1984. Sean and Frankie were getting back on patrol from their meal. They had enjoyed a late supper at a new French restaurant, the CAFE DU PARC. Their old pal Nicky now owned and managed this elegant cafe on East 19th Street. Last week he had invited them to tonight’s private opening. Nicky was welcoming his hand-picked list of guests. Decked out his natty tuxedo and coiffed salt and pepper hair.
Jimmy had his usual DUCK A L’ORANGE. Frankie loves COQ AU VIN. The Chef outdid himself. Everything was perfect. His made from scratch raspberry salad dressing was out of this world. The perfect crusty bread was reminiscent of Paris.
READ MORE:
6 Minute Read
It was a beautiful brisk Manhattan autumn evening in 1984. Sean and Frankie were getting back on patrol from their meal. They had enjoyed a late supper at a new French restaurant, the CAFE DU PARC. Their old pal Nicky now owned and managed this elegant cafe on East 19th Street. Last week he had invited them to tonight’s private opening. Nicky was welcoming his hand-picked list of guests. Decked out his natty tuxedo and coiffed salt and pepper hair.
Jimmy had his usual DUCK A L’ORANGE. Frankie loves COQ AU VIN. The Chef outdid himself. Everything was perfect. His made from scratch raspberry salad dressing was out of this world. The perfect crusty bread was reminiscent of Paris.
READ MORE:
6 Minute Read
Illegal Frequencies
Their mission was to find those dark and dingy “Dive Bars” to meet the neighborhood elders. Those original Brooklynites who held the history of their newly adopted neighborhood. That’s where they found Mickey McDougall. He was a long time neighborhood resident alcoholic and former playwright. The perfect person to spin the tale of “Illegal Frequencies” for the two metrosexual urban homesteaders.
As long as they bought Mickey drinks.
READ MORE:
7 Minute Read
Their mission was to find those dark and dingy “Dive Bars” to meet the neighborhood elders. Those original Brooklynites who held the history of their newly adopted neighborhood. That’s where they found Mickey McDougall. He was a long time neighborhood resident alcoholic and former playwright. The perfect person to spin the tale of “Illegal Frequencies” for the two metrosexual urban homesteaders.
As long as they bought Mickey drinks.
READ MORE:
7 Minute Read
They Turn Shit into Gold
The two ambitious and young entertainment entrepreneurs had been working together for the past three years.
They seemed to be an unlikely duo: Mousy and Tommy.
Michael Mousy Mandlelap graduated from Queens College in 1973. He left for California with his Bachelor of Arts degree in Communications Arts and Sciences. His partner Tommy Grant aka Tommy Afta Dark received the exact credential. He decided to stay in New York to pursue his dreams.
Tommy was a thin, tall, and very confident individual. His clothing was modish and stylish. Tommy’s gift: Even though he was always looking to get over, he never projected that impression.
Mousy looked every bit of Queens College Jewish as one could be. One word described him: Schlep. He appeared to lack confidence, but that was a dangerous misinterpretation. One might describe him as a Woody Allen look-alike. He wore black glasses, button down shirts and corduroy pants. But he did share one thing in common with his partner: Mousy was always looking to get over. But Mousy never projected that impression as well.
When Tommy and Mousy first met, it was chemistry: all taking place in Professor Cleary’s Freshman English Composition class. Within minutes the duo realized they both were meant to be in the same business.
READ MORE:
7 minute read
The two ambitious and young entertainment entrepreneurs had been working together for the past three years.
They seemed to be an unlikely duo: Mousy and Tommy.
Michael Mousy Mandlelap graduated from Queens College in 1973. He left for California with his Bachelor of Arts degree in Communications Arts and Sciences. His partner Tommy Grant aka Tommy Afta Dark received the exact credential. He decided to stay in New York to pursue his dreams.
Tommy was a thin, tall, and very confident individual. His clothing was modish and stylish. Tommy’s gift: Even though he was always looking to get over, he never projected that impression.
Mousy looked every bit of Queens College Jewish as one could be. One word described him: Schlep. He appeared to lack confidence, but that was a dangerous misinterpretation. One might describe him as a Woody Allen look-alike. He wore black glasses, button down shirts and corduroy pants. But he did share one thing in common with his partner: Mousy was always looking to get over. But Mousy never projected that impression as well.
When Tommy and Mousy first met, it was chemistry: all taking place in Professor Cleary’s Freshman English Composition class. Within minutes the duo realized they both were meant to be in the same business.
READ MORE:
7 minute read
A Dinner in Olde New York
Arlington and Buffy Cwizweld will celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary this year on April 1, 2055.
This is their story.
****
Arly and Buffy had a more than passing interest in the New Technology and Artificial Intelligence. Now their highly successful and diversified investments have made it possible for the discovery of a special process. The couple had sought and financed their quest for this specific concept for years.
It was always meant to be theirs and theirs alone.
The Name: Process Perpetual.
Arly and Buffy, as planned, now enjoy this miracle process. It's existence known only to them and their unconventional researcher. He was discovered and mentored especially for this undertaking.
READ MORE:
8 Minute Read
Ping Pong from Saigon
The Immigration Officer scanned the messy pile of paper she was handed.
“What’s your name?” She said trying to put the papers in some semblance of order.
“Ping” he nervously answered.
“It says, Ping Pong from Saigon?” The Officer looked up.
“Well, Ping Pong originally from Saigon.” He said.
READ MORE:
1 Minute Read
The Immigration Officer scanned the messy pile of paper she was handed.
“What’s your name?” She said trying to put the papers in some semblance of order.
“Ping” he nervously answered.
“It says, Ping Pong from Saigon?” The Officer looked up.
“Well, Ping Pong originally from Saigon.” He said.
READ MORE:
1 Minute Read
The New Dive Bar
“Geez, I don’t feel like I belong here anymore.” Marvin Muttleman sighs about his beloved Clancy’s while commiserating with Pollack Joey.
They give a long stare at the young artsy couple now entering the bar.
READ MORE:
1 Miniute Read
“Geez, I don’t feel like I belong here anymore.” Marvin Muttleman sighs about his beloved Clancy’s while commiserating with Pollack Joey.
They give a long stare at the young artsy couple now entering the bar.
READ MORE:
1 Miniute Read
The Gift
The two Detectives from NYPD's Manhattan South Homicide Squad were doing the old "hurry up and wait" routine familiar to most members of the NYPD. The order came FORTHWITH to show up at 0800 Hours, June 15th 1999.
The two cops were awaiting the determination of another “high level” meeting.This specific meeting being held at the the Senior Executive of the New York County District Attorney’s office AKA The Manhattan District Attorney.
The Detectives were sitting on the old worn heavy mahogany bench. This bench sat in the outside corridor of the suite of executive offices. Many a cop has set his ass on this exact bench for this same stupid purpose.
“He’s been in dere width dat guy and his fuckin’ lawyers for about two hours.” Detective First Grade Vinny “The Guinea” Mastoriellio softly said.
READ MORE:
9 Minute Read
The two Detectives from NYPD's Manhattan South Homicide Squad were doing the old "hurry up and wait" routine familiar to most members of the NYPD. The order came FORTHWITH to show up at 0800 Hours, June 15th 1999.
The two cops were awaiting the determination of another “high level” meeting.This specific meeting being held at the the Senior Executive of the New York County District Attorney’s office AKA The Manhattan District Attorney.
The Detectives were sitting on the old worn heavy mahogany bench. This bench sat in the outside corridor of the suite of executive offices. Many a cop has set his ass on this exact bench for this same stupid purpose.
“He’s been in dere width dat guy and his fuckin’ lawyers for about two hours.” Detective First Grade Vinny “The Guinea” Mastoriellio softly said.
READ MORE:
9 Minute Read
I Got The World On A String
Jonathan Fletcher, a retired WASP (White Anglo-Saxon Protestant) male, was driving his new Lexus listening to Rush Limbaugh. No matter what the left wing drive-by media reports, he believes El Rush-Bo’s concise analysis cuts right through their liberally biased anti American agenda. Jon relies on Rush to always use facts to fortify his beliefs. The ultra right wing toxic cocktail radio mixture of Rush Limbaugh and Michael Savage tides Jon over until he settles down after dinner to watch an evening of Fox (Faux) News. Needless to say, he was ecstatic when Donald Trump won the 2016 Presidential election.
Jon has done quite well for himself. The retired widower of 20 years comfortably lives in an upper middle class bucolic suburb of New York City. He is a loner, surrounded in his isolated bubble by a few right wing politically like minded friends and associates.
Both Fletcher children are college educated and married with exceptional careers. Mimsy, his Medical Doctor daughter is married to a well respected lawyer in Florida. His son Christopher is also married and is the Founder, President and CEO of a successful Silicon Valley Tech firm.
READ MORE:
10 Minute Read
Jonathan Fletcher, a retired WASP (White Anglo-Saxon Protestant) male, was driving his new Lexus listening to Rush Limbaugh. No matter what the left wing drive-by media reports, he believes El Rush-Bo’s concise analysis cuts right through their liberally biased anti American agenda. Jon relies on Rush to always use facts to fortify his beliefs. The ultra right wing toxic cocktail radio mixture of Rush Limbaugh and Michael Savage tides Jon over until he settles down after dinner to watch an evening of Fox (Faux) News. Needless to say, he was ecstatic when Donald Trump won the 2016 Presidential election.
Jon has done quite well for himself. The retired widower of 20 years comfortably lives in an upper middle class bucolic suburb of New York City. He is a loner, surrounded in his isolated bubble by a few right wing politically like minded friends and associates.
Both Fletcher children are college educated and married with exceptional careers. Mimsy, his Medical Doctor daughter is married to a well respected lawyer in Florida. His son Christopher is also married and is the Founder, President and CEO of a successful Silicon Valley Tech firm.
READ MORE:
10 Minute Read
The Yutz and The Putz
*Preface*
“The Blob” was a 1958 Science Fiction movie: The film stars the then unknown but soon to be iconic actor, Steve McQueen The plot depicts an geometrically expanding red amoeba type alien who crashes to earth from outer space in a meteorite and begins to engulf and digest humans. The creature’s vulnerability to coldness is discovered and it is finally shrunken and contained. It is then transported the to the Arctic , where it is parachuted to a perpetual frozen and arrested existence. Conventional wisdom says while the “Blob” alien is not dead, it “has appeared to have been stopped.” To this, Steve McQueen replies with the now prophetic last line in the film, "Yeah, stopped as long as the Arctic stays cold.”
Cleon Neon has now devoted his life to becoming a full time Social Justice and Environmental Warrior. The twenty something snowflake millennial was formerly known as Ronnie Stebbani. He took the name Cleon Neon and dyed his hair green during his freshmen year at college. That’s when his professors started to smothered him with vile, guilt ridden left wing anti American propaganda. They also enlightened him to his shameful white privileged existence.
READ MORE:
9 Minute Read
*Preface*
“The Blob” was a 1958 Science Fiction movie: The film stars the then unknown but soon to be iconic actor, Steve McQueen The plot depicts an geometrically expanding red amoeba type alien who crashes to earth from outer space in a meteorite and begins to engulf and digest humans. The creature’s vulnerability to coldness is discovered and it is finally shrunken and contained. It is then transported the to the Arctic , where it is parachuted to a perpetual frozen and arrested existence. Conventional wisdom says while the “Blob” alien is not dead, it “has appeared to have been stopped.” To this, Steve McQueen replies with the now prophetic last line in the film, "Yeah, stopped as long as the Arctic stays cold.”
Cleon Neon has now devoted his life to becoming a full time Social Justice and Environmental Warrior. The twenty something snowflake millennial was formerly known as Ronnie Stebbani. He took the name Cleon Neon and dyed his hair green during his freshmen year at college. That’s when his professors started to smothered him with vile, guilt ridden left wing anti American propaganda. They also enlightened him to his shameful white privileged existence.
READ MORE:
9 Minute Read
How Good is Your Gay-Dar?
The life of Ralston Amicous was the talk of the nation. But he was now dead and he didn’t give a shit anyway. Imagine, Hugh Hefner dying on the same day, September 28th 2017. Similar to John Addams and Thomas Jefferson dying on the same day, July 4th 1826.
It is all in the marvels of destiny.
Hef and Ami, two individuals who used the same medium to institute two distinct cultural shifts in sexual attitudes.
Soon traveling the road to becoming historical pop culture questions on Jeopardy!
Old men whose sexual revolution had come and gone.
READ MORE:
3 Minute Read
When Attribution is not a Challenge
Shari met Johnny a long time ago. They knew each other through mutual friends. It was a casual and brief acquaintance, seeing each other at parties and infrequently running into each other on the streets of SoHo and Chelsea in 1990’s New York City.
He wasn’t seeing anyone steady and Shari was in a dead end long distance romance with an artist living in London. They never “clicked.”
READ MORE:
7 Minute Read
Shari met Johnny a long time ago. They knew each other through mutual friends. It was a casual and brief acquaintance, seeing each other at parties and infrequently running into each other on the streets of SoHo and Chelsea in 1990’s New York City.
He wasn’t seeing anyone steady and Shari was in a dead end long distance romance with an artist living in London. They never “clicked.”
READ MORE:
7 Minute Read