The Curator of Schlock
-
The Curator of Schlock #507: A Walk Among the Tombstones
As the Revenging Manta was reconciling with his brother, Albert Simmons, the accountant for the Goose Lord gang, I heard a howl coming from the far side of the room. Edwige, my kangaroo companion from my misadventures in North America, was in a panic over the slumped over body of Waldo. I had forgotten that… Continue reading
-
The Curator of Schlock #506: Hell House LLC II: The Abaddon Hotel
I wanted the Revenging Manta, the ninja vigilante of downtown Orlando, to cut this sniveling accountant named Albert Simmons down to size. Not figuratively cut down to size. Literally. I don’t do the whole murder thing, but I wanted justice after this man’s involvement in the sale of my Beanie Baby collection. But the Revenging… Continue reading
-
The Curator of Schlock #505: In a Violent Nature
“Sold!” I screamed, my fingers digging into the shoulders of Albert Simmons, the accountant for the Goose Lord gang. “I can’t replace those Beanie Babies. My whole life’s work ruined!” I grabbed Albert by the back of his neck and pushed him head first through the door. The Revenging Manta was cleaning his blade on… Continue reading
-
The Curator of Schlock #505: The Amityville Horror
I had a trout Beanie Baby named Rainbow. The prize jewell of my collection is now gone with the rest. All sold on eBay by the Goose Lord and his gang. I’m sorry. I can’t process the loss right now. Maybe I’ll work up the strength next time. — To be continued. Happy Halloween, everybody!… Continue reading
-
The Curator of Schlock #504: House
“Who are you?” I asked the pencil-necked geek hiding in what was formerly my Beanie Baby archive. “I’m Albert Simmons,” he said as he dabbed his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief. “I’m the accountant for the Gooselord and his gang.” “Where are my Beanie Babies?” I asked with clenched fists. “Did these hoodlums throw them… Continue reading
-
The Curator of Schlock #503: Shivers
I opened the door to my Beanie Baby storehouse. I reached out for the string that when yanked would give me 60 soft-glowing watts. The illuminated room revealed no Beanie Babies. Half a lifetime of investment down the drain. I was supposed to retire on those! I screamed and with that, a pencil-necked geek came… Continue reading
-
Episode 642: Schloctoberfest 2024 #1 (Crimes of the Future)!
On this week’s show, Jeff Shuster and I discuss the existential provocations of two films called Crimes of the Future, both created by David Cronenberg. TEXTS DISCUSSED NOTES If you are an amazon customer, one way to support this show is to begin shopping with this affiliate link, so that the podcast is granted a small… Continue reading
-
The Curator of Schlock #501: Talk to Me
I almost tripped over a severed arm as I made my way over to Waldo, my compatriot in the striped red and white shirt. He was clutching his gut as red started to bleed into the white stripes of his shirt. “I’m dying, man,” Waldo said as he looked up at me with glazed eyes.… Continue reading
-
The Curator of Schlock #500: Alien: Romulus
I wheezed in the smoke that filled the room as my faithful companions combatted the goons that had turned the basement of the Museum of Schlock into a fentanyl distribution center. I do mean tooth and nail. Edwige, the kangaroo, was sinking her jaw into the neck of a flailing punk. The smoke began to… Continue reading
-
The Curator of Schlock #499: Four Flies on Grey Velvet
I had no idea that the Revenging Manta, the ninja vigilante of downtown Orlando, would throw exploding gas pellets to the floor, enveloping the room in smoke as we tried to subdue some fentanyl pushers. I could hear Waldo screaming in the background as gunfire went off. I could see the shadow of Edwige, my… Continue reading
About
The Drunken Odyssey is a forum to discuss all aspects of the writing process, in a variety of genres, in order to foster a greater community among writers.
The Drunken Odyssey 