Worst Dads in Horror

Posting this blog a day late and a dollar short, just like dear ‘ole dad. If you were one of the millions who spent Father’s Day pining over your lost, non-existent volatile relationship with daddy dearest, cheer up, and be glad you weren’t the offspring of any of these bad dads of horror.

10. Satan – Rosemary’s Baby (1968)

It doesn’t really get much worse than having Satan for a dad. Sure, there are probably perks to being the Antichrist, but the trade-off is lifetime of micromanagement from mid-level staffers on daddy’s payroll. Satan’s coven rape, conspire, commit murder and drive the chosen mother-to-be to the brink of insanity, all to ensure Satan’s son is born on the exact date that will make him 33 years on the millennial, the same age as Jesus when he came into his own. Who would’ve guessed the devil would be so petty?

Rosemarys-Baby

Continue reading “Worst Dads in Horror”

Haiku of the Week – Celebrate Earth Day

betrayal mario sanchez nevado
Betrayal ©Mario Sanchez Nevado

the earth is but dust
seasons have no memory
save mother nature

*Illustration by Mario Sanchez Nevado

Special Valentine’s Day Poem – Saying Goodbye is Always Hard

Saying goodbye is always hard.
I don’t like the feel of it.
The soft caress of a lover’s embrace by a warm body next to mine.
Now, hard muscles turned to stone.

Saying goodbye is always hard.
I don’t like the sound of it.
A harmonious melody of a chorus of angels floating in the air.
Now, a cacophony of gnawing little teeth.

Saying goodbye is always hard.
I don’t like the smell of it.
Odors become memories burned in the mind, like the cologne I bought last Christmas.
Now, the metallic sickly sweet stench of blood.

Saying goodbye is always hard.
I don’t like the taste of it.
The taste of red wine with wild cherries, warm peaches and a hint of passionfruit.
Now, the cold, succulent, saltiness of raw meat.

Saying goodbye is always hard.
I don’t like the sight of it.
Pink cheeks flush a deeper red when crystal blue eyes catch mine.
Now, a blackened mass of exposed bone and rotting flesh.

Saying goodbye is always hard.
I don’t like the finality of it.
I should see, hear, smell, feel, and taste my love, whenever I want.
No. I’ll never say goodbye.

Monthly Haiku Corner

orange hues of autumn
gone in the misty morning
winter came too soon

Recipe Corner – October 2018

November 1st is Dia de los Muertos and what better way to celebrate with a little Pan de Muerto, Bread of the Dead.  A nice lady named Mely Martinez from the Mexico in my Kitchen has given us a simple  recipe for Pan de Muerto, a key ingredient to any Day of the Dead altar.

Pan de Muerto

Pan-de-muerto-Day-of-the-dead-recipe-3
Photo by Mexico in My Kitchen
Ingredients
  • 500 grams 4 cups All Purpose flour
  • 2 Tablespoons active-dry yeast
  • 100 grams sugar 1/2 cup
  • 1 teaspoon salt
  • 80 grams butter at room temperature + 30 grs. to brush the bread after baking.
  • 80 grams unsalted margarine room temperature plus more for bowl and pans.
  • 4 large eggs room temperature
  • Orange crest from 2 oranges
  • 60 ml. warm water about 110 degrees
  • 1 teaspoon orange blossom water or orange essence
  • 1 large egg lightly beaten to brush the bread
  • Sugar to decorate the bread at the end.

You can find the full recipe and baking instructions at the Mexico in my Kitchen blog:
https://www.mexicoinmykitchen.com/pan-de-muerto-mexican-bread-of-dead/

pan-de-muerto-day-of-the-dead-bread-recipe-1
Photo by Mexico in My Kitchen

 

Poe Sundays

The Haunted Palace

by Edgar Allan Poe

 In the greenest of our valleys
By good angels tenanted,
Once a fair and stately palace-
Radiant palace- reared its head.
In the monarch Thought’s dominion-
It stood there!
Never seraph spread a pinion
Over fabric half so fair!
Banners yellow, glorious, golden,
On its roof did float and flow,
(This- all this- was in the olden
Time long ago,)
And every gentle air that dallied,
In that sweet day,
Along the ramparts plumed and pallid,
A winged odor went away.
Continue reading “Poe Sundays”