Random Brainfarts

[annajaneclare]

Ninety eight years today the Daddy of the vampire genre, Bram Stoker, did the mortal coil shuffle somewhere in Pimlico. He was cremated and his ashes were interred in Golders Green. Can he command the ash from beyond the grave like Dracula could command wolves and shit? Maybe he's behind the volcano - there was a seance somewhere and someone told

Comments

[penguineggs]

If it's in Whitby, it'll involve chips. Never have I encountered a location so picturesque so utterly imbued with the smell of hot oil (and, at the posher end, hot beef dripping, I strongly suspect). I imagine, in any modern version, Renfield would have his bluebottles battered.

[annajaneclare]

But he'd much rather have kitten and chips.

[ozreison]

I daresay it's a safe bet that these hysterical types who have spent their entire adult lives studying ash-clouds, jet-engines, weather patterns, etc know a fuck of a lot more about it than you with your piffling 2.2 degree in Business Management. So step off, sit down and shut the fuck up.

This! A million billion trillion times this! This should be sent to every airline CEO, CFO, and marketting person. Totally. Completely. At least twice. *grin*

[annajaneclare]

I shall stitch it on a sampler and send it to the head of British Airways.