A Native Breakfast

August 19, 2015


If you are underage, or in any way forbidden by your government or religious laws from viewing X-rated subject matter, please do not go there. If, however, you are not restricted by any laws in your geographical location, by all means click on the image above, to read my salty tale.

Am I Suicidal?

August 4, 2015

FACEBOOK CHAT (August 3, 2015):

Now pay attention to the clock time of each post.

8/3, 1:22pm

Gonna go see The Kills tonight @ First Avenue

8/3, 3:49pm

Well you have a wonderful time. Larkin’s in for a big surprise, I punked him back big time, for his pranking me by calling 911 some nights back, telling them I’m suicidal. You will read about that in “A Quiet Night at Mission Station.” /My/ retaliatory prank you will read about in the email. The devil’s in the details!

8/3, 3:50pm

That is not even a prank, that is just being an asshole. Haven’t the police got anything better to do? Obviously not!!!!

8/3, 4:03pm

Did you actually read the tale? If you did, you wouldn’t say that. You must now report to the principal and stay late for detention.

8/3, 4:03pm

Are you suicidal?

8/3, 4:04pm

Just read the tale, instead of trying to draw it out of me via tedious little chat bars. I’m gonna go jump off a bridge now; you drove me to it.

8/3, 4:07pm

I now have 989 followers on Twitter. I wonder what numerology has to say about that.

8/3, 4:15pm


8/3, 4:17pm

I guess you’re reading it right now.

8/3, 4:36pm

I sacrificed 18 goats, a narwhal and two gerbils in order to gain such astounding storytelling abilities! And now I have to listen to someone criticize my brilliant tale before she even reads it? As if I’m some sort of flaky dipwad who is totally delusional, thus interprets hateful attacks as true blessings. Jeez! What is this asteroid coming to?

8/3, 4:38pm

Furthermore: I firmly believe that 9/11 was orchestrated by our gov’t, and not by these Reptilian Overlords about to descend on our world in lavender pasties.

8/3, 4:57pm

More furthermore: if I /were/ suicidal I wouldn’t just blab about it to anyone, let alone to those closest to my iron heart. And to /ask/ someone if they’re suicidal is a definite party-crashing etiquette faux pas! You need to recite IMMEDIATELY 10 Hail Mary’s and 5 Desideratas. It is such a Brobdingnagian chore to stand there and hear someone spout such a clueless question that leaps from gawd-knows-what dark wrinkle in the cerebrum to confound my sensibilities like a shrieking phantasm that just turned a corner and ran right into me! Reminds me of that day several years back when I told some lady that my stage name as a gay-themed standup comic is Jehovah’s Queer Witness. “Oh?” she tilted her head like a budgie, “/Are/ you a Jehovah’s Witness?”

The Ultimate Joke

August 1, 2015

And by “ultimate” I mean one which finally breaks down Larkin’s poker
face, which he’s very good at sustaining through even the funniest
scenarios. As if he wore a mask of cement.

The Big Challenge he’s presented me, of course, is to keep fighting
back until the day finally arrives when the tables completely turn in
my favor. This means that he must continue to screw me over till
that day arrives…that day when no matter what he does to fuk with
me, karma will make it backfire, each and every time till Muhammed
Himself returns and puts the kibosh on his antics.

Obviously, that day has arrived, the day he was 86’d from all gay
bars–but one, one which I permitted, as a compassionate exception–by codifying his expulsion as New Rule #1.

But there are also various components to this Big Challenge, one of
which is to get him to crack up in my presence, because my joke is so
hilarious, he can’t help but ROTF&LHAO (roll on the floor and laugh
his ass off). Though most of my quips are utterly guffawlicious, I
believe I now have come up with The Hiroshima Bomb Of All Witticisms!

Not that I haven’t previously quipped lines equally funny, but I have
concluded that uber-success relies not solely upon quality of jape,
but of delivery and timing as well.

I have also decided to post this joke as an image to Twitter and Facebook, as well. It’s that good. IMNSHO (in my not so humble opinion).

Misfortune is a Cookie Named Zeke

July 31, 2015

THESE ARE THE END TIMES…of my birthday month, that is. So let me toss in some email dialogs and finish with a delightful sci-fi fable in the fashion of Stanislaw Lem:

Date: Tue, 28 Jul 2015 11:20:10
This will put San Francisco on the Intergalactic Map
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My E-frenz

“I am not going to stand here and act falsely humble!” – Gay Zombie Jesus speaking atop Twin Peaks to the gathering rabble on day 1 of his return.

Date: Tue, 28 Jul 2015 11:28:09
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My E-frenz<

Change “gathering rabble” to “surly rabble”.

PS: Barbara, my brother does /not/ have cancer, thank deity. He does a lot of charity work and left a msg. on my ans. machine that sounded to me, like: “I’m running around like a chicken with his head cut off [blah blah blah] cancer diagnosis.” So I told him yesterday that my prayers for him shall be redirected to all good souls with cancer. I had a /fantastic/ first conversation with you, BTW. Minneapolis is so fortunate to have your kind presence.

Date: Tue, 28 Jul 2015 12:03:44
Let’s welcome Barbara Lodermeier to our group!
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My E-frenz

By “group” I mean email list, which now totals a whopping…[drumroll now]…FIVE!

But soon I’m gonna burst on the world scene like a thieving kidney stone in the night. At which point my emailbox, Twitter account, Facebook page, WordPress blog, and gay-bible.org web site will get so rapidly flooded by fans and enemies alike, it will bring down the entire Interwebs.

Barbara is the same age as This Queer Miscreant (2,015 years, give or take a few months), and hails from Minneapolis. So lucky to live in a town with a statue of Mary Tyler Moore! I can barely contain my envy.

Minneapolis, you have a bright angel in your midst!

– Zeke Krahlin (Jehovah’s Queerest Witness Of All)

Date: Thu, 30 Jul 2015 11:02:02
New Rule #4
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: Eleanor Cooney

This latest New Rule shall be mailed to the 4 bars Larkin used to frequent (till I got him kicked out), as well as Moby Dick:

NEW RULE #4: Be kind to Larkin Kelsey, yet do not allow him to disappear from my world, geographically, socially or consciously. This includes watching over him, that he does not hurt himself (unlikely, but better safe than sorry). Know that whatever outcome is my lot with Mr. Kelsey, reflects directly upon the S.F. LGBT community at large.

It occurred to me just moments ago (as I exited Muni Metro at Embarcadero Station on my way to Posh Bagel):

There shall be /ten/ New Rules in toto. Mimicking Moses’ Commandments.

It /also/ occurred to me (2-3 days ago) that Larkin intentionally suckered the SF Queer Family into despising me, that I may eventually blackmail them into fulfilling my dreams. For the shame they’d otherwise suffer would be insurmountable…hence eviscerate all our achievements thus far, against a homophobic reality. And all sexual minorities would be wiped off the planet…and erased from The Book Of Life.

They now have no other choice but to honor me in every way possible. And I owe it all to Larkin, who must play a little while longer, my backstabber.

– Zeke


By Ezekiel J. Krahlin

Date: 25 Glaucus 50,970 A.Z.A. (After Zeke’s Awakening)
How My Cookies Conquered the World and Beyond
To: My Loyal Reptilian Subjects from Andromeda
From: Master Thaumaturge Ezekiel Joseph Krahlin (Eminent Overseer of Sector 357, Quadrant B)

There is no way to explain how I became the most powerful sentient being in the entire Milky Way Galaxy plus 14 neighboring clusters, based solely on cookie sales, without believing in the supernatural. I do not dabble in The Black Arts, nor have I in any other way consciously sought This Impossible Destiny. The cookies just fell into my lap (so to speak), one thing led to another until 50,970 years after my first cookie tumbled off the assembly line, and *voila* here I am.

It all started quite innocently on the 29th day of July, 2015 A.D., with a frivolous email exchange between myself and The Osmium Empress (a.k.a. Eleanor Cooney). Who as you all know so well from your brain-implant history classes, led us to a magnanimous victory in 38,112 A.Z.A. against the Axzyspuluk Swarm that threatened to teleport us back to the Stone Age when dinosaurs had yet to invent the rotating disc. Which disc is responsible for uniting two intelligent species–reptilians and humans–into an amalgamated imperium. For posterity’s sake, here is the exchange:

Date: Tue, 28 Jul 2015 12:37:59
Wanna go into business together? I have a plan…
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: Eleanor Cooney

…forget literary endeavors, let’s get into the cookie business. Specifically:

Zeke’s Misfortune Cookies

Printed on each strip of paper will be one of my silly quotes, of which I have /many/ (as you all-2-well know). Such as:

“Help! I’m a prisoner in a Neptunian/Chinese cookie factory, and I can’t find the right wormhole that will lead me to freedom!”

I think it’s a fabulous idea, and if you are likewise inspired, run with it. We can split it 60/40, with the 60 part for you and yours.

– Zeke

Date: Tue, 28 Jul 2015 13:47:09
Re: Wanna go into business together? I have a plan…
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: Eleanor Cooney

On Tue, Jul 28, 2015 at 1:28 PM, Eleanor Cooney wrote:

{{ It’s a winner idea, all right. But how to implement? }}

Once the money from my fame comes rolling in, I can hire some of the best to handle the business aspects. I was also thinking: you can add your own Morticia quotes. “Morticia & Gay Zombie Jesus” has a nice ring to it.

Gawd I’m on a roll these days!

– Zeke

PS: I saw Larkin yesterday afternoon, seated at the counter of Moby Dick and rolling the dice. His roommate Marty was tending bar. I paused a moment at a spot where Larkin (though not Marty) could see me through the plate glass. Just in case he needed to talk. He didn’t, so I moved on. None of my scouts have seen Larkin at any other bar, nor have I, these past 7 days. Looks like my New Rule has trumped Larkin big time.

Date: Tue, 28 Jul 2015 14:34:41
Re: Wanna go into business together? I have a plan…
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: Eleanor Cooney

On Tue, Jul 28, 2015 at 2:05 PM, Eleanor Cooney wrote:

{{ Imagine our web page!!! }}

My eyes, my eyes, my eyes are burning!

{{ I think you should make some Misfortune Cookies specifically for Larkin! }}

He’s gonna need a whole passel each and every day.
I’ll whip him up a batch of glop and tell him it’s okay.

– Zeke

Towards the final months of 2015 I finally made my breakthrough as an activist and author: celebrated throughout the world, with ginormos sums of cash flowing into my Paypal account. By April of the following year, my asset value increased from $1,550 to $4,325,000. Which empowered me to open my first Misfortune Cookie (tm) factory.

My cookies were a big hit, bigger than I ever hoped, infiltrating even the poorest nations and remotest regions with their playful mayhem. They made people laugh, something sorely appreciated in those tumultuous times of poverty, disaster, oppression and disease. But more than that:

These Misfortune Cookies (tm) are highly nutritional, composed of a base of gluten-free quinoa and brown rice flours sweetened with stevia. The remaining ingredients (a trade secret) ensure that my cookies will always be delectable, and with just the right, satisfying crunch.

In appearance, they look just like standard fortune cookies, except for a special logo stamped onto one side:

This symbol was originally my graffiti signature as a gay street activist, scrawled here and there throughout The Castro to mark my turf. But since my fame took off, it has become a seal of quality for all my products, including my starship franchise established 700 years later. But let’s get back to the 21st century.

Here are seven early examples of my Zeke-style quips (besides the one displayed in the email exchange above):

Many are called but few are chosen, so step right up for your lederhosen!

“Who wants to play Twister?” – the Elephant Man on his birthday

The way to a man’s heart is his stomach…either orifice.

“Can I meet you if I retweet you, can I eat you if I reheat you?” – Gay Zombie Jesus

“Crumpets in bed, crumpets in bed. Gnoshing on crumpets and getting good head!” – gay bachelor raconteur Neville Snidermannington III

Don’t count your chickens before they change horses in midstream.

“I am not Larkin’s stalker, I’m his boyfriend.” – Zeke Krahlin

Plus six examples from Eleanor’s Morticia alter ego (which tend to be more direct and blunt than mine, no pussyfooting about):

You will lose your foot in an accident involving farm equipment.

You will catch a tropical disease and be hideously disfigured.

A grand piano will fall on you from ten stories up.

You will be drugged and transported to a refugee camp in Somalia.

You will reincarnate as a leper in 11th-century India.

You will swallow a thumbtack.

The world went through many upheavels during my stellar rise to power, and my cookie factories spread across the globe to number 182,448. Not only had I led The LGBT Revolution to establish the world’s first gay nation, Athenia, but I grew so affluent I bought up every country that collapsed under the weight of economic catastrophe, one by one. By the year 2022 immortality had been invented in the form of a nasal spray, though reserved only for the rich.

But my militia stole the formula and distributed it to everyone else within the short span of five years. So I could then breathe a sigh of relief at that point (as I morphed backwards in physical age to 19), and continue my conquest of planet earth in relative tranquility as nation after nation fell into my hands until not so much as a square inch anywhere on terra firma was not under my direct ownership. World peace was finally a reality, under the auspices of yours truly a.k.a. “Big Gay Brother.”

And I owed all this ridiculous success to my Misfortune Cookie (tm) dynasty, which garnered profit quantum leaps beyond my fame as a revolutionary author and activist. You might say that the world was now my oyster, though I would object.

As the centuries marched forward, humanity expanded throughout the solar system and on to neighboring galaxies…under my leadership with co-commander (and Uber Soulmate) Larkin Kelsey, and The Osmium Empress for My Most Trusted Military Advisor. My cookies were the first cash cow from earth to be traded on the Intergalactic Marketplace. Which of course boosted my legendary influence another quantum leap or two.

My transcosmically irresistable Misfortune Cookies (tm) were on the table (or pad or squadunk or whatever passed for a dining surface) of every sentient family across 15 galaxies including the Milky Way, by the time the Axzyspuluk Swarm was subjugated to lowly factory workers. Ah, yes, the factories:

It had finally become necessary to dedicate an entire solar system to the production of my cookies. The one I chose had 22 inhabitable planets, and the sole mission of every denizen on each of those worlds was to manufacture enough cookies to satisfy the demand of more than 6,433 quadrillion eager consumers.

These factories provided almost 17,000 years of quality cookie production, but like all good things they came to pass, and had to be demolished. Along with their entire solar system, due to residual byproduct. Of course I transferred all residents to a new location long before The Cookieocalypse took place.

Co-commander Kelsey and myself stood a safe distance from the demolition, as we watched the planets and its star quietly break up into fragments, then dust. I was quite disappointed, expecting instead a glorious super-nova implosion with many fireworks in tow.

So I looked up at him and questioned why such an anticlimactic end. To which he calmly replied:

“Well, Zeke, I guess that’s just the way the cookie planets crumble.”

A Quiet Night at Mission Station

July 25, 2015



If you are underage, or in any way forbidden by your government or religious laws from viewing X-rated subject matter, please do not go there. If, however, you are not restricted by any laws in your geographical location, by all means click on the image above, to read my salty tale.

New Rule

July 24, 2015

Date: Sat, 18 Jul 2015 14:44:09
Re: I’m gonna rock the world soon!
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: Eleanor Cooney

On Sat, Jul 18, 2015 at 1:22 PM, Eleanor Cooney wrote:

{{ Love the postcards. }}

Weren’t they fun?

{{ Also love the no-nonsense exposay of the corrupt medical system. You go! }}

Ya gotta do wotcha gotta do! I had another Larkin breakthrough just
last night, BTW:

Decided to have a drinky-poo or two at Toad Hall, now that I know Larkin sometimes goes there these days. No pool table, so I guess My Delinquent Diplodocus has been 86’d from yet one more gay hootch dive. ‘Cause he /never/ goes to a bar that doesn’t offer billiards! (Except for Twin Peaks Tavern, since their plate glass windows permit a panoramic view of Castro & Market, and thus can spot me when I swing by, and sometimes step out to exchange badinage.)

Passing to the back, where Toad Hall’s open air patio is located, I looked for barkeep Irene. She’s read my book, and is a staunch admirer of my mission. Yep, there she was! As she poured my two vodka tonics, I declared as quickly as possible so as not to cut into her earnings:

“So you know Larkin, eh? He’s the hero of my book, Arwyn Miles. He’s gotten me kicked out of many bars, calling me his stalker. But that’s not true at all. I’m his best friend.”

My drinks were now ready for sweet imbibition, so I politely withdrew into the joyful crowd (thanks to Marriage Equality’s passage) as Irene gave me a goodbye wink and a grin.

I milled about, growing ever more snockered till I found myself at a small table close to the front door. The bar was already quite mobbed, for it was Friday eve and 9:30 PM. Lo and behold, who comes walking up towards me from the patio, but Sloan!

She tends bar down the street at The Mix, and is a good friend to Irene. However, she kicked me out two years ago, as Larkin told her I’m his stalker. She refused to let me speak in my defense, so just before I exited The Mix I proclaimed:

“Maybe I’ll send a letter to the SF Bay Times and tell them what an
asshole you are!”

Since that time, she ignores me whenever our paths cross (which isn’t very often), and I likewise ignore her. Anywayz:

Here she comes right up to me, smiles and extends a hand in kindness. We shake, and I speak:

“I’m sorry Larkin put enmity between us! I never wanted things to go that way.”

“Oh pshaw, no worries,” she replied.

No more words needed to be said, for I was already cognizant that Larkin (and many in the community as well) was simply running me through a gauntlet of adventures, that I may grow wise and happier beyond my craziest dreams. I therefore assumed at this point, that both Irene and Sloan are players in this secret organization that has been guiding me towards leadership (and Larkin) for many years now! As she drifted back outside, I called twice:

“Thank you!”

Now here is what I’m sure is gonna happen next, Ellie:

No bartenders in The Castro will serve Larkin anything, or even let him step foot inside, for now on. Unless /I/ am with him…and he treats me really nice and buys me booze, and introduces me with tremendous respect. In fact, I decided to have a little fun with this new change in my silly world. I’ll send a postcard to each bar, stating:

NEW RULE: Do not allow Larkin Kelsey to enter, or remain in, any gay bar, tavern, saloon or the like, without my company.

In light of recent events, I also expect that surprise party in my honor to go down very soon. And that is when Larkin will “pop the question.” And when Randolph Taylor will return to me. And so on. Guess somehow, some way, you and Mitch will be there too.

– Zeke

Date: Sat, 18 Jul 2015 15:38:24
Re: I’m gonna rock the world soon!
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: Eleanor Cooney

On Sat, Jul 18, 2015 at 3:03 PM, Eleanor Cooney wrote:

{{ Wouldn’t miss it!!! }}

I sure hope not! You’re one of my greatest heroes!

– Zeke

Date: Sun, 19 Jul 2015 12:31:18
Re: Hardy-har-har!
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: Eleanor Cooney

On Sun, Jul 19, 2015 at 12:22 PM, Eleanor Cooney wrote:

{{ Classics, all! }}

I am the boss of everyone now…especially Larkin.

Funny to see Sloan hanging out at Twin Peaks Tavern these past few days. Never seen her there before this week! Same for Irene, but I have yet to see them there together. I guess some are being assigned shifts at TPT.

Things are getting very funny in The Castro. I wouldn’t put it past them (meaning those members of my Blue Rose Militia) to provide yours truly with free drinks at any gay bar I visit…and refuse my tips as well.

I’d bet your life on it.

– Zeke

Date: Sun, 19 Jul 2015 14:42:08
Let this fly like a bird from its cage!
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My E-frenz

Gay Zombie Jesus Never Quits

July 15, 2015

Don’t know why Gay Zombie Jesus is so compelled to possess This Dismayed Little Soul, but here He is again! The last time He ravaged my world can be witnessed here: “Even More Gay Zombie Jesus.” Notice that in most cases, inclusion of the tweet immediately prior my own is necessary for the sake of context. 47 bastardly blithering bon mots in all.

Due to image width limitation for this particular WordPress layout, these tweets are truncated at the right margin, so just click for a full version. Apologies for this dilemma…but I know I’m so dammed funny that you’ll thank me for it later, when you’re sober.

[ Or you can simply click here to view them all at once without the hassle! ]


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