My Next Big Project

Well, thank you all for your kind messages and donations during my stay in hospital over there in England. Jesus, what a total fucking dump. Those dumb assholes couldn't even tell me who to make the cheque out to. And they call it the National Health Service? Those limey fucks.

Anyway, after my unfortunate encounter, I got to thinking about the future, and what might have happened if my fabulous career had been cut prematurely short. Being stripped almost naked and beaten to a pulp by Max Maven while London gangsters cheer him on can do that to a guy.

So it occurred to me that I might take a different type of 'holiday', at least until after Halloween. There's this guy, see, calls himself Jim Callahan. It's strange that he calls himself that, because someone over in England tells me Jim Callahan was probably the most terrible, hopeless, ineffective Prime Minister they ever had. The guy had zero credibility. It's probably just a coincidence. I guess his name was spelled with a G anyhow.

Well, this Jim Callahan has an interesting offer on his website. It seems Mr Callahan is offering $1,000,000 for anyone who's "passed over" (which means ANYONE WHO"S FUCKING "DIED" TO THOSE OF US WHO DON"T BEAT AROUND THE GODDAM BUSH), that will appear in one of his seances. Jim's agreed to renegotiate the terms in my case, and claims he will pay me the $1,000,000 when I appear, right after he gets it from James Randi. Call me stupid, but I think I can trust this guy!

So, my plan is to have myself frozen cryogenically, and after I appear, scaring the shit out of Mr Callahan, naturally, I'll get myself thawed out. And there I'll be, sipping a Creme de Menthe, while Mr Callahan pays over the money. 

I might just buy him a martini while I'm about it.

So Halloween will be the night when the ghost of Barry Solayme haunts Jim Callahan. Watch this space, folks, and don't have nightmares....

BS