New novel in the works!
I'm currently in the middle of writting a story for Evelyn Guanuna that has a bit of an abstract tone to it. The story invloves this guy who travels around the world with Kirk Cameron, co-star of the 80's sitcom "Growing Pains", and star of the low budget evangelical Christian thriller "Left Behind". Here's the first chapter:
Touching the sun with a 40 foot pole: My adventures with Kirk Cameron- by Bruce Call
Chapter 1: Euro Trash
Before I could train my dog in armed combat, I had to go to a class where I learned to speak a dialect of Caninish, which is the language dogs speak. Since my dog was a german sheared, I first had to brush up on my German. I had spent several years studying German because I was employed as a bounty hunter for ex-Nazi's during the mid-80's down in Brazil. The trouble is that I liked those good old Hitler youth boys a lot, not these stupid self-centered german blochs these days that backpack around the world and stay in youth hostels and poke fun of minority groups. So I was a bit hesitant to return to Germany this past summer and relearn German. But it was all in the name of being able to talk to my dog when we finally got to go on secret missions together.
I arrived in Berlin on a tuesday, which was bad luck for me because it turns out that that's the day when the banks are closed so that those lazy bankers and all their money can sit around and do nothing. I was short a few Euros for the taxi fare, and promised the driver if he took me to the nearest bank I would make it worth his while. It turns out that the driver was an undercover member of the "thought police". He arrested me for offering him prostitutional services and found myself on a Turkish Airlines flight headed for a Turkish Prison somewhere in Anatolia. I met a man on the plane who seemed to be from a country called Molvania somewhere in Eastern Europe. I couldn't help notice that he seemed to be rather edgy when I brought of his country's capital of Luttenblog. He said it didn't really exist. It turns out that the whole concept of Molvania is a conspiracy by an undisclosed central asian country to trap unsuspecting tourists who think they are boarding a flight to Molvania into work camps where they are forced to mine potassium. He didn't speak much after that.
When we arrived in Turkey, men in black leotards handcuffed me and hauled me into the back of a 1978 "Royal Deluxe 2". I was surprised to learn that the Royal Deluxe series of large-sized sedans were still being made in the former Yugoslavia. "Your Passport has expired as of yesterday" said the man in a black suit when I arrived at Yakup Kadri Karaosmanoglu prison. "You no longer are a U.S. citizen and deserve to spend the rest of your life here in are wonderful prison". He went on to explain that I should think of the place not so much as a prison but a commune where everyone was just part of one really big family. I asked for my one phone call, and found out that there wasn't a phone for several miles. If the embassy had ever found out about this, I would have been out of that prison with in a matter of hours. But all hope was lost. I was to spend an eternity there.
I bunked with a nice young man who called himself Tyrone and who liked to wear hot pants around the cell. I asked him one day if he could stop trying to be so flamboyant, and he replied in Turkish that "I speak your stupid language like a pig who wears those awful boot-cut jeans with your Nike running shoes with that horrible decrepit black line repeating itself in succession". A man in the cell next to ours translated whatever Tyrone said into Urdu, which was then translated by another man into Esperanto and then into English. We attended classes were we learned to hold back the Jew and oppress the Negro. I quite enjoyed them, especially the day when Michael Richards came and gave us a few pointers. But it struck me that someone in this prison might be someone I've seen many times before, in fact, I was once a huge fan of his back in the day. It was Kirk Cameron from the mid-80's sitcom "Growing Pains". I had a lot to discuss with him.
...stay tuned for next weeks chapter on Kirk Cameron's shocking revelations about his criminal tendencies and incriminating statements involving his 1989 Tax Audit!
Touching the sun with a 40 foot pole: My adventures with Kirk Cameron- by Bruce Call
Chapter 1: Euro Trash
Before I could train my dog in armed combat, I had to go to a class where I learned to speak a dialect of Caninish, which is the language dogs speak. Since my dog was a german sheared, I first had to brush up on my German. I had spent several years studying German because I was employed as a bounty hunter for ex-Nazi's during the mid-80's down in Brazil. The trouble is that I liked those good old Hitler youth boys a lot, not these stupid self-centered german blochs these days that backpack around the world and stay in youth hostels and poke fun of minority groups. So I was a bit hesitant to return to Germany this past summer and relearn German. But it was all in the name of being able to talk to my dog when we finally got to go on secret missions together.
I arrived in Berlin on a tuesday, which was bad luck for me because it turns out that that's the day when the banks are closed so that those lazy bankers and all their money can sit around and do nothing. I was short a few Euros for the taxi fare, and promised the driver if he took me to the nearest bank I would make it worth his while. It turns out that the driver was an undercover member of the "thought police". He arrested me for offering him prostitutional services and found myself on a Turkish Airlines flight headed for a Turkish Prison somewhere in Anatolia. I met a man on the plane who seemed to be from a country called Molvania somewhere in Eastern Europe. I couldn't help notice that he seemed to be rather edgy when I brought of his country's capital of Luttenblog. He said it didn't really exist. It turns out that the whole concept of Molvania is a conspiracy by an undisclosed central asian country to trap unsuspecting tourists who think they are boarding a flight to Molvania into work camps where they are forced to mine potassium. He didn't speak much after that.
When we arrived in Turkey, men in black leotards handcuffed me and hauled me into the back of a 1978 "Royal Deluxe 2". I was surprised to learn that the Royal Deluxe series of large-sized sedans were still being made in the former Yugoslavia. "Your Passport has expired as of yesterday" said the man in a black suit when I arrived at Yakup Kadri Karaosmanoglu prison. "You no longer are a U.S. citizen and deserve to spend the rest of your life here in are wonderful prison". He went on to explain that I should think of the place not so much as a prison but a commune where everyone was just part of one really big family. I asked for my one phone call, and found out that there wasn't a phone for several miles. If the embassy had ever found out about this, I would have been out of that prison with in a matter of hours. But all hope was lost. I was to spend an eternity there.
I bunked with a nice young man who called himself Tyrone and who liked to wear hot pants around the cell. I asked him one day if he could stop trying to be so flamboyant, and he replied in Turkish that "I speak your stupid language like a pig who wears those awful boot-cut jeans with your Nike running shoes with that horrible decrepit black line repeating itself in succession". A man in the cell next to ours translated whatever Tyrone said into Urdu, which was then translated by another man into Esperanto and then into English. We attended classes were we learned to hold back the Jew and oppress the Negro. I quite enjoyed them, especially the day when Michael Richards came and gave us a few pointers. But it struck me that someone in this prison might be someone I've seen many times before, in fact, I was once a huge fan of his back in the day. It was Kirk Cameron from the mid-80's sitcom "Growing Pains". I had a lot to discuss with him.
...stay tuned for next weeks chapter on Kirk Cameron's shocking revelations about his criminal tendencies and incriminating statements involving his 1989 Tax Audit!
1 Comments:
This is hilarious. So far it sounds like an amalgam of Tom Gleisner, a simpsons episode, and one of your roomates from your trip to Jordan. It would be pretty humorous to meet a person who understands Urdu and speaks Esperanto. That would be a Pakistani with an odd appreciation for Jewish invention.
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