Monday, May 21, 2007

Henri Does Naked Ladies on Cruise Ship

I love 21st century.

I was visiting my friends - Cyn, Sandy and Millie, three great broads who gives Henri good times - and they were telling me about these naked ladies who are on cruise ships.

Henri has never been on cruise ships, but by what they tell me, they're a really good way to get across great bodies of water and explore new and foreign territories. But, another good thing is that they have fun on cruise ships which involves naked ladies.

Oh la la!

So, we all four made a date for a cruise ship that was going to foreign territory they call Barbados, and the girls were going to meet me there.

I told Juicy I was going to book event that would be totally boring and I knew how she hated those things so she decided it was for good cause, and I think she accepted it hook, line and sinker. Henri was telling what 21st century mortals call a little white lie.

Get four writers together and it's an event, n'est paux?

Early the next morning, I meet the girls in the lounge of the cruise ship as they are drinking their Margaritas and waiting for Henri to appear.

Might I say, they are a little...how do you Americans say this...hammered?

I look over at Cyn who is hanging on to long, shiny table as if steadying herself and she says, "Henri! Did I ever tell you that you look great in white?"

I know at that point it is going to be fun trip for Henri.

"So, girls, where are naked ladies?" I ask.

Sandy turns to me and says, "Henri, you want to see naked?" and begins to pull off ample filled blouson in which Millie grabs her and shakes her silly.

Millie does that when the girls get out of hand, but sometimes Millie does not know that this would cause great pleasure to Henri.

Anyway, the bartender asks the girls if they want another drink and you should have seen look on his face when Cyn said, "Yes, please, and Henri will have a Coors Light."

But, he is professional so he turns to the area where he is making drinks and proceeds to make three more Margaritas and pours a Coors Light into frosty mug for Henri.

He places the four drinks onto the long, shiny table and Cyn pushes the beer to where I am standing. I am not sure why bartender runs from room when he sees Henri pick up mug and drink. Maybe he does not like Henri in white like Cyn does.

We all share laughter and drink our drinks, but Henri wants to see naked ladies really bad since this is why Henri came in the first place, not knocking the girls as they were quite pleasurable to look at even with their clothes on.

Heh.

So, Henri decides it's time to check this naked ladies out and leave the girls to explore where naked ladies are hanging out.

As I do not know exactly where in the hell I was going, I go through many floors and down many corridors to find them. Just when Henri is about to give up, I see many ladies go into a room and close the door behind them.

I figure that must be it!

Many hours pass and I hear familiar voices. It's Cyn, Sandy and Millie who have come to take me to other places of pleasure.

"Henri!" shouts Millie. "Don't you know you're not supposed to be in there?"

"But.." I stammer, "I find naked ladies!"

I do not why they think it funny but after they point out sign that reads "Ladies Rest Room," I figure I did not find same naked ladies they are talking about.

But, Henri has good time anyway.

One thing confuses Henri. After ladies push metal handle on chair where ladies are sitting, why does Henri end up in the ocean every time?

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Saturday, May 19, 2007

Henri Does Old Man Hessop

It was getting late. Boo had ordered pizza and he and I were sitting around, throwing pizza crusts at Boo's dog who was scrunched up in between Boo and I. Quite a threesome in a 4x6' dog house.

Quite frankly, I think the dog was having more fun than we were, but we were okay. The moon was out, the sky was clear and Juicy and Maxine were nowhere in sight.

Maxine, btw, is Boo's wife.

I'd known Boo as far as I can remember. After we both died, we lost touch for a few hundred years, then caught up with one another on Halloween night, of all nights, in the cemetery of Old Man Hessop's place.

Old Man Hessop was a mean cuss and the only reason I was in his cemetery was because I was looking to see if it were true he came out at night and overturned all the headstones like they said he did.

I'm figuring it was an old wives' tale because I never saw him.

He died an untimely death in 1864 just as Boo and I had, only it was for an unjust cause. He'd been caught with the sharecropper's daughter at high noon underneath the hickory tree in the same cemetery Boo and I were standing. From what I heard, it was a simple peck on the cheek and Old Man Hessop's wife comes running after the two of them, causing the both of them to get run down by a herd of cows that had gotten loose.

Or, at least that's what was reported in the Ghostly Times. And Old Man Hessop never showed his ghostly face around these parts again. But, the locals say he loved to return on Halloween night, overturning headstones on a quest to find the sharecropper's daughter; a fact, I'm not sure was true or not.

It was there I was moseying around, trying to see what I could get into, when I caught a faint glimpse of something moving by an old hickory tree. I figured it was Old Man Hessop trying to create a scare in dear ol' Henri; but instead, it was Boo. He walked over to me and gave me the biggest hug I'd ever gotten.

But, there was something about Boo that troubled me. He was different. Of course, he wasn't a mortal anymore, but it was something else about him that made the hairs on Henri's chest stand straight up. Now, when that happens, something's going on and I was bound and determined I was going to find out what it was.

He had the same smile he always had - kind of crooked on one side as if he'd run into a brick wall or something - but that smile, it could light up a whole room if you gave it time for the other side to catch up.

But, all in all, except for this feeling something was very wrong, Boo was the same ol' Boo.

I asked him how he'd been doing and he said fine, but I knew he wasn't fine at all.

Finally, I had to get him to open up, so I said, "Where's Maxine?"

That's when his face fell and with what little spirit he could muster, he put his hand on my shoulder and he said, "Maxine's been captured."

I looked at him kind of funny because I wasn't sure exactly what he meant by that and he picked up on my confusion right away and said, "Well, it wasn't too long after you left that Maxine and I met our own demise at the bottom of the Chauteleau Lake after a storm overturned our boat. Both of us drowned.

"I tried searching for Maxine all night long. I didn't even think about my own death at the time. I just wanted to find Maxine."

"You did find her, didn't you?" I asked.

"Oh, I found her all right. Watched her spirit soar into the sky and I don't know where she ended up from there. That's when it hit me. I was dead and I knew they'd come after for me, too, so I hid behind a rock in a cavernous gully that was cut out of the side of the mountain.

"They never found me."

I knew who "they" was. The energies from the other side.

"So what did you do after that?"

"I roamed. Did a few things I could never do as a mortal; you know, ghostie things."

I nodded.

"But, then, everything started getting old and I missed Maxine terribly."

"You mean, you haven't seen her at all after all these years?"

He looked to the ground, his head bent low, and he said, "Nope, not at all."

"Well, damn, Boo," I said, "that really stinks."

We sat there, Boo and I, by the old hickory tree in Old Man Hessop's cemetery, watching the clouds pass over top the moon when suddenly I heard a commotion in the farmhouse which sat at the edge of the cemetery.

There were stories of how Old Man Hessop's farmhouse never got rented or sold because it was claimed to be haunted by the old geezer himself, so automatically I figured it was he inside just fixing himself some dinner or doing laundry, much like he did when his wife was still alive.

Curiosity got the best of both Boo and I, so we flew closer to have a look see.

When we got to the farmhouse, the commotion had died down except for a coon hound barking in the distance and the sounds of a few hairy bats flapping overhead.

Now, Boo and I, we were never afraid of anything even when we were kids; so naturally, we just flew through the front door like it was nothing.

Cobwebs were strung through rafters and and beams and you had to dodge'em or they'd attach to you like glue, but Boo and I wanted to see what all the racket was all about so we kept going.

It was then we saw Old Man Hessop himself sitting on an old piano bench by the French doors that hung half off their hinges. A picture of his wife still hung above the mantle and it seemed as if she were watching our every move, but our attentions were focused on the lonely, old ghost of a man, sitting alone on a half-broken piano bench.

When Old Man Hessop saw us, he stood up and waved for us to come to him.

Boo looked at me and I looked at him and I knew he was thinking what I was thinking. We were already dead. What did we have to lose?

So, Boo and I flew over to Old Man Hessop to see what he wanted.

"I heard you two lads talking in my cemetery," he said. "I hear you're looking for a ghost by the name of Maxine."

Well, that's about when Boo went all postal and started after Old Man Hessop figuring he'd been having his way with her all these years only Boo had no say in it of course, but I told him to get a grip and let's just listen to what the old man had to say.

Old Man Hessop turned toward the French doors, pointed outside, and said, "You see that old hickory tree?"

We both nodded, kind of confused-like, as we gazed out the window at the hickory tree from which we sat just a few minutes before.

And there sat Maxine, Boo's wife, who he hadn't seen in over 200 years.

"How did you do that?" Boo asked.

Old Man Hessop smiled a toothless grin and said, "All these years you've wanted to see her, yet she never appeared. Is that right?"

"Sure, but.."

"And all those years have passed and not once did she make her presence known. Am I right?"

Boo kind of stuttered and scratched his head and said, "I'm not understanding."

Old Man Hessop laughed. "You are so much like a mortal. Mr. Boo, I hate to be the one to tell you but Maxine has been with you all these years and you were so determined to find her that you forgot that the spirit is not of the flesh. What you were looking for was Maxine, the mortal, and not Maxine, the spirit, and truth, be known, her spirit has been within your spirit, your soul and your heart, all along. You were just too blind to see. Go to her. Her spirit is calling you, man."

I will never forget the look on Boo's face that night. Standing in the middle of Old Man Hessop's cemetery clutching Maxine as if there were no tomorrow.

And, now, we're both sitting in a dog house watching Boo's dog lick his balls.

Love is funny. One minute, they get on your everlasting nerve and the second minute, it takes a time out in a dog house to realize you never know a good thing until they're gone.

I leaned over to Boo and said, "Look. I think it's time we went home and deal with the consequences like a real ghost."

Besides, I was in the mood for a cool Coors Light.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Boo said.

We thanked Boo's dog for letting us room with him for awhile and headed home - Boo back inside to Maxine and I back to Ezra's to deal with Juicy in the morning.

I wasn't sure if she was going to be able to handle my superstardom, but I guess time will tell.

Wish me luck with that one.

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Friday, May 18, 2007

Henri Does Time in the Dog House

Henri is in the dog house.

And it wasn't even my dog house.

It was my good friend Boo's dog house. Seems he had the misfortune of being caught causing mischief in town by his wife at about the same time I was caught schmoozing with Caridad Pineiro, the sexy vixen who writes vampire novels, and we figured we'd camp out awhile until the whole thing blows over.

Or, the dog wants his house back.

See, I was innocent but found guilty. A few lousy questions about vampires and Juicy decided I was having an affair. Just because I was conversing with a beautiful vampire-writing author and Juicy gets all bent out of shape. Just because Caridad tells me as I'm being dragged off against my will by Juicy that I could have her anytime. Actually, her words were, "I'm all yours, Henri. Just say the word and I'll be there."

Means the same thing.

I can't help it if I'm desirable. It's a curse, I know.

But, what really blew everything out of the water was what was printed on the front page of the Ghostly Times this morning, and this is why I'm sitting here in the dog house with Boo, who won't stop his incessant whining about how women are the curse of the earth, whichever plane you happen to be in.

According to the Ghostly Times, someone leaked the story out and Henri became the talk of the town and Juicy says now she can't hold her head up in public. I don't seem to have any problem with it and I don't see why she just can't get over it and get on with it.

I mean, it's not like we're attached at the soul or anything.

I'm a free ghost and can come and go as I please. I guess that doesn't explain why I'm sitting here in the dog house with Boo, avoiding Juicy and trying like hell to make conversation with a ghost who believes that the world would be a better place if men ruled the universe and not women and he could do as he damn pleased.

I guess it just depends on your perspective of things.

If men ruled, we'd be able to leave the hopper seat up without someone yelling that they've just fallen in.

If men ruled, there's be no one pointing their finger at you when you're wrong.

If men ruled, we'd make women go out and buy their own damn tampons.

If men ruled, beer would become not only one of the four food groups, but all of the four food groups.

If men ruled, Margaritaville would become a national landmark.

If men ruled, we could do as we damn please and let the women go to work and see how much fun it is.

Well, I guess they already do, but you get the picture.

So, I'm sitting here with Boo drawing straws as to who gets to tell the dog it'll be a few more minutes.

Meanwhile, if you want to know what was in the headlines this morning, hop over to Caridad Pineiro's literary agent's blog and find out. Her name is Caren Johnson and I hear she's easily fancied with Henri.

Hmm...wonder what she's doing after I get out of the dog house?

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Tuesday, May 15, 2007

Henri Does Caridad Pineiro

After my depressing night at Boo Drop Inn on Mother's Day night, I woke up this morning with Mom flying over my head. She loves to scare the crap out of Henri, especially after a night of partying. Gives new meaning to hangover.

As soon as I crawled out of bed, she was gone in a poof. I don't know why she does that, but I was glad she woke me up because Juicy and I had plans for the day to go check out a haunted house she said she found in the valley. She said I had to take garlic with me because there might be vampires, too. Juicy knows how I hate vampires, but Juicy being Juicy, I agreed to go.

Grabbing my garlic, I flew out of the house and into the valley.
Juicy was nowhere to be found.

Figuring she was playing a game with me, I decided to go along with it and head to the haunted house by myself. To get to this house, I had to go through town and past the park. But while I was going through town, a big poster in one of the shops caught my attention. It was some author by the name of Caridad Pineiro. I looked closer at the poster and wouldn't you know it - she was a vampire author!

My bones started shaking. I couldn't imagine anyone who put vampires in their books, those blood thirsty animals that wouldn't think twice about sucking every drop of blood out of your body until you were completely drained of what life you had left. I knew all about them.

I was curious to see what this vampire-writing woman looked like, but I froze in my tracks to the point where I couldn't move.

Suddenly, there was a tap on my shoulder.
I jerked around and who but appeared - and it wasn't a sleigh full of reindeer - it was the vampire writer herself.

"You can see me?" was all I could say. My teeth were chattering so hard, I was surprised I got that much out.

"Of course I can see you, Henri," she smiled.

I still didn't trust her. How did I not know she wasn't a vampire herself?

I clutched my garlic into my fists so hard, they become liquified.

"Henri, come here," she said, waving me to a bench, "I'd like to talk to you."

I looked around for help. How can anyone save me if they can't even see me???

I watched her walk over to the bench, sit down, and pat the other end for me to join her. She was beautiful. Raven-colored hair and a cute little Spanish accent, so Henri being Henri, I slowly walked over to the bench and sat down.

"Henri, why are you scared of me?" she asked. My cover as a suave, sophicated ghost was blown.

"I will cut to the chase, Mademoiselle Caridad," I said in the most gentlemanly fashion. "I'm afraid of vampires. Are you one perchance?"

She laughed a little too sexily if I might add and said, "I'm often asked that question, Henri. People think that to write as many books as I do, I never sleep and must therefore be a vampire, but I do sleep and most certainly do not drink any blood."

"But, how do you know for sure someone is and isn't a vampire?" I just needed to know, you know?

"Well," she said, brushing back her raven hair, "modern vampires like those in The Calling are certainly harder to tell apart from the silent movie, 'Nosferatu.' They are paler and avoid the strongest rays of the sun, but other than that, they blend right in. The lack of reflection is still a good way to tell as is the chill of their skin."

I had forgotten that!
I quickly looked at the windows of the shops across the street to see if I could see her reflection. Wouldn't you know it a cloud was passing over and I had to wait until it had passed. Damn the luck. I guess I had to wait. I wanted to touch her golden hands to see if I could feel a chill, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

I knew the only way to find out was to keep her talking until the cloud passed over and I could see if I could see her reflection, and I would know, for sure, if she was a vampire for real or not.

"So, Mademoiselle Caridad, is it true that garlic can keep vampires away? I mean, have you ever used it yourself and did it work?"

She laughed, which I found...très réveillant.
"Garlic will definitely make them shy away since it weakens them when they ingest it," she said, giving me quite an erotic look. "I did have to use it in Darkness Calls. The hero, Ryder Latimer, is having dinner at an Italian restaurant (can we say a rough call just because of all that garlic) and the heroine offers up a delicious basket of garlic bread. Poor Ryder! He controlled the urge to run and because he wanted to impress her, he ate the bread anyway, causing him the world's worst case of agita."

I'm listening to her talk and as I'm listening, the damn cloud is moving at -100 mph. In other words, it's going nowhere. I must keep her talking so I ask her about this book of vampires. As an author, I know this will keep her busy for hours.

"So, this book," I continue, "is full of these blood-thirsty varmins. Can you tell me what it's about and where I can get it if, perchance, I get over this fear of vampires?"

"BLOOD CALLS is all about one very dark and intriguing vampire – Diego Rivera," she replied, running her hand down her long, sensual leg which was driving Henri très sauvage avec passion.

"He was betrayed during the Spanish Inquisition and turned into a vampire. The experience has convinced him that he was saved so he could be a better man and so he’s strived to do that up until now. The heroine, Ramona Escobar, really tempts him to put the bite on her. Believe me, it’s Diego who is the one who is biteable! In fact, I think she puts the bite on him first. Did I mention, Henri, that there’s a very old, but incredibly sexy vampire named Stacia who might be just right for you? You can read about her online – DESIRE CALLS – at eharlequin and she’ll be back for more in 2008! Since you’ve both been around for some time, you might find it fun to share your experiences."

Stacia? The name was ringing a bell. No! It can't be! Stacia, the beautiful vixen who had her eyes on me in Boo Drop Inn? The one who kept trying to kiss me on the neck when Juicy wasn't looking??? I KNEW she was up to something!

I steadied my nerves, casually looked up at the cloud and heaved a sigh of relief...it was passing!

I had to keep her talking.

"So, if you weren't writing about vampires, what would you write about?"
I know lame question, but I was running out of chitchat material.

"I love romantic suspense and am definitely working on a longer novel of this type," she replied, inching her skirt up higher (or maybe it was Henri's imagination). "It will involve an Army CID officer and the murder of a Senatorial hopeful that is possibly connected to the military. Can’t say more or I’d have to kill you . .. oh wait. You’re a ghost so that might be a problem."

Did she say...kill? I laughed out of courtesy, but inched my way further down the bench, not too obvious-like, and lo and behold, the cloud moved and the sun finally came out. I strained hard to see if I could see her reflection and, sure enough, there was a woman sitting on a bench talking to someone who wasn't there. This made Henri laugh.

And breathe a little easier.

That's when Henri started becoming a little more like Henri, the ghostest with the mostest.

"So, you write about vampires. Do you think they're sexy? What about French non-hump back ghosts? Can you see us having a fling sometime?"

There. I said it. All the moves she was putting on me, it was time I started making my moves on her.

"I do think vampires are sexy," she cooed in that cute little Spanish accent. "It’s that sharing blood thing that’s so intimate. It’s like sharing the most vital, most personal thing that you possess – kind of like sharing your soul. As for ghosts, definitely a yes, Henri only . . . You can get corporeal, can’t you? We do need a way to share some loving, although being French, I assume you can whisper sweet naughty things in my ear . . ."

I can do a lot more than that, baby.

But, I didn't want her to think I was hard up. After all, I did have Juicy who deprives Henri of sexual delights, but still. It's not like I couldn't get no one. I am a player, remember?

I inched myself closer. I could smell her sweet perfume that turned Henri into a pile of ectoplasm.
"Soooo...Caridad, my sweet...what do you think of those vampires who hang around the mall? Aren't you scared of them? I mean, I'm not of course, but...."

I knew she was feeling the Henri vibes. She took my hand in hers and said, "Mall vamps, huh? Someone has been pulling your leg, Henri, although with modern vampires, they could be anywhere at anytime – except possibly high noon. I’m not sure even a vampire elder could stand that much sun. Stacia is a vampire elder and she’s fairly powerful. Strong enough to convince you to hand over your platinum American Express so she can pick up some nice stilettos and a little leather. Maybe you should avoid the mall when she’s around."

And Boo Drop Inn? Never. Not when I had my trusty clove of garlic to protect me. And not even vampires could stop me from visiting my girls at Victoria's Secret.

"Maybe you're right," I sighed, feeling the warmth from her hand in mine, "but, have you ever come across a vampire you just didn't like?"

She laughed, causing her eyes to sparkle and the smile...oh the smile...ohhh laaa laaa.

"In FURY CALLS, the first of the 2008 releases, you will definitely meet a very nasty and different kind of vampire – a kiang shi – a Chinese vampire. This dude is totally bad because Chinese vampires are people who were totally evil to begin with. That’s why they’ve been cursed and become vampires. Kiang shi even look different when they transform – all white fur and glowy red eyes. The villain vampire in FURY CALLS is totally up to no good and trying to get even with Diego, Ryder and some of the other favorites from THE CALLING. The kiang shi doesn’t like that vampires are becoming too human and finding love."

She was totally into this vampire thing and I so wanted her to focus on Henri, the ghostest with the mostest, so I said, "Do you ever write about ghosts and have you ever thought about naming one Henri?"

I know it was bold, but why not? I wanted her to keep talking. I wanted to her to feel the Henri vibes. I wanted...to be a mortal for just five minutes.

"I hadn't thought about it - I'm still waiting for your answer on that whole corporeal thing," she smiled sexily, "but you are definitely very charming. And that French accent - ooh la la, but I could see the women swooning when you whisper sweet nothings in their ear! So you are definitely in the running for a future hero spot."

That was it. I couldn't take it anymore! If she wanted to put Henri in her next book, I was so there!

Just when I was starting to make my moves, I saw...Juicy. Standing by the storefront, looking as if she was quite annoyed at dear, sweet, innocent Henri.

I quickly leaned over to Caridad and whispered, "I've got to go. Do you think...well...is there any way possibly that..."

She didn't let me finish. Juicy snatched me from her and dragged me down the sidewalk but before I got too far, I heard Caridad's last words to me...

"I'm all yours, Henri. Just say the word and I'll be there."

For a vampire lover, she sure did know how to capture Henri's heart.

I did find out that you can buy any of her books at Amazon, Barnes & Noble or even your neighborhood ghostly bookstore. You can even check out her website at www.caridad.com or watch her interview at www.romancenovel.tv.

Tomorrow, I shall look into it, but for now, I wish everyone a good night. I know my night is going to be very, very sweet.

Caridad...Caridad...come back...come back...

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Monday, May 14, 2007

Henri Does Mother's Day a Day Late

Sigh. Mother's Day was yesterday. Henri is a bit saddened because the old broad refused to go to Boo Drop Inn with me last night to celebrate. She said she had a date with the Bell Witch and couldn't get out of it.

So, I went by myself and drowned myself in my own misery.

So, I'm sitting there, slumped down in my seat looking all depressed, when Juicy Jesse sits down beside me. I call her Juicy Jesse as a joke because one night back in the early seventies (oh, Juicy is a ghost, too), we wanted to have a little fun with the mortals and at the time something called CB radios were all the rage. So, we found a car parked outside what they called a grocery store, jumped in and started playing with this CB.

I wanted to hop in the back with Juicy, but she reneagued that idea saying that she wasn't going to be had like that and wanted to play around up front instead. But not with Henri. With the CB.

I didn't know what she had planned, but she's like that. Always full of cool ass ideas to tease the mortals. I loved Juicy for her high-spiritedness, which gave Henri quite a pleasurable feeling even though it didn't involve a roll around in the back seat.

So, Juicy gets on the CB and gets this trucker talking to her.

"What's your name?" he asks.

Now, when you think of Juicy and her high-spiritedness, don't think of anything other than she's out to have a good time. She is definitely a non-sexual kind of ghost as I've tried to have her many times and she just keeps turning ol' Henri down. So I know she's not like that. But, that night, I saw a side of Juicy that made even my own cheeks blush.

"Juicy Jesse," she told the trucker.

Well, I won't go into all that was said being as my MOTHER might start feeling bad about dissing me for the Bell Witch and head over here to read my blog expecting some gushy gushy Happy Mother's Day greeting for her and instead get to read some juicy excerpts of my life which she shouldn't read in the first place, but believe me, it was better than messing around with the girls in Victoria's Secrets. Way better.

Anyway, Jesse became Juicy Jesse after that.

So, I'm sitting in Boo Drop Inn all depressed and Juicy sits down and puts her hand on my head.

She starts rubbing it in a sexual way, but I know not to get my hopes up as Juicy is not like that. However, Henri starts feeling...a little better.

"What's wrong, Henri?" she asks.

I didn't really want to get into it. I just wanted the night to be over. But, Juicy. Dear sweet Juicy. Sitting there wanting to know what was wrong with dear ol' Henri. Rubbing dear ol' Henri's head...round and round and round....

I couldn't take it anymore.

"Juicy, what's wrong with me?"

"What do you mean, Henri?"

"My own mother doesn't want to see me. Is she forgetting I'm not the ugly hump back child that she grew to hate?"

Juicy laughed. "Oh, Henri, your mother doesn't hate you."

"Well, she sure isn't winning the most popular mother of the year award with her wanting to be with everyone else but me on Mother's Day."

My head fell on the table. Juicy tenderly picked it up and put it back on my shoulders.

"Henri," she said, "you really should stop letting your head fall off...it's quite annoying to the other ghosts when it knocks their drinks into their laps. But, I think I know what's really going on here."

I looked up. "You do?"

"Oh sure. You're letting your mortal life interfere with your spirit life."

I scratched my head. "I don't quite understand."

"Henri, listen. Mother's Day is a mortal holiday. We don't celebrate it unless we want to, but...if it upsets you so, why don't you just tell her?"

I folded my arms across my chest and sat back.

"Oh," she said, "Henri is too proud, is he?"

Femme irritante!

"You know--," she continued, "you can be such an ass."

Okay, my night with Juicy Jesse was over and I told her so. I paid my tab and got up to leave when Juicy leans over and says, "You know what your trouble is? You never want to tell your true feelings. It hurts like hell when someone turns you down, so you avoid them. Go to your mother right now and tell her Happy Mother's Day or I'm not ever going to talk to you again."

I didn't know what in the hell she was talking about. True feelings? If I told her my true feelings, she surely wouldn't ever talk to me again. Yeah, Juicy, let's have wild sex and I'll rock your world. What would she say to that?

Henri has a saying. If we men told the women in our life our true feelings, we'd be in the dog house for eternity. And that is why we don't. We just agree with what they are saying and the world becomes a better place.

"You're right, Juicy. You're absolutely right as usual. I'll go tell her. Thank you for waking Henri up to reality."

I don't think she believed me. Women have a way of seeing right through you. Even if you are a ghost.

I left Juicy sitting there and flew back to Ezra's. And popped an email over to Mom.

You know, maybe Juicy had something there. It did feel better.

To all you moms out there, Happy Belated Mother's Day. And to you, Mom, Henri still loves you even though you'd rather spend your time with the Bell Witch. Hmph.

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Friday, May 11, 2007

Henri Does the Wild Kingdom

Before I died in 1632, it was told to me that I was quite unpleasant to look at. No, no, it's okay. You see, I was a hump back and because of the infliction that I was born with, I was used to people stopping and staring at me even when they didn't think I knew.

I knew they thought me hideous, so I retreated into a shell, not wanting to come out.

After I died, I have found that I have become everything I knew me to be...virile...quite endowed and quite handsome. Soyez toujours mon coeur battant!

Yesterday, after I tagged a few lovely ladies, I thought I would crawl out from under the Coors Lights cans and go out into the vampire-infested mall to do my little thing at Victoria's Secret. It's just a weekly ritual that usually causes no harm to the 21st century people as they walk about completely oblivious to the fact that Henri is standing beside them oggling them.
Before I got to the mall, though, there was an area with lots of trees that I'd never noticed before. And among these trees, there were places to sit to eat and various equipment in which the little people seemed to like to make lots of noises around.

In between the shrieks coming from the little people, I could hear other noises. Strange, far-off noises. I turned in this direction to see who was making these noises, and quite to my surprise and shock, it was an area full of wild animals.

Henri's first reaction was to get the blue blazes out of there, but something struck me as odd. The wild animals were kept behind a tall fence in which they supposedly could not escape.
In Paris where I am originally from, the only animals that roamed free were of the domestic kind, although when I traveled to distant countries, yes, there were various kinds of animals roaming free and not behind a wire fence, so this caught me as being quite odd and I wondered how these 21st century people were able to get them from their native land and hold them there and not be arrested for doing so.
Surely, these animals could not be happy so far from home and living behind a fenced in area such as what I was seeing now.
It was inhumane when you thought about it.
Being a hump back and shunned by the local townspeople, as well as my own family, when I was alive, I created a rapport with animals. It was as if I could understand their needs and their wants. I never told anyone for fear they would think I was more than a freak than I already was, so I kept this secret to myself.
And as I was thinking about this, it occurred to me that Henri could help these animals and find out if they were content to be confined and if they wanted me to help them return to their homeland. I wasn't sure if I could help, but I had to try.
I flew over and got a closer look at them, but I forgot something.
They could not see me.
If I were to help these animals, I would have to make myself visible. Once visible, I could get their attention and communicate with them. It sounded like a plan.
Henri was about to become a hero and save the wild kingdom!
I materialized in a matter of a few seconds and walked up to the first animal. Unfortunately, it wasn't quite the reaction I hoped it would be.
I quickly took out my photographing device so that I could show my blogging friends what someone (or animal in this case) looks like when they first see Henri...

I've seen better hair days, but this was a simpian primate's reaction when I peeked through the wires of his jailhouse...















The animal was completely traumatized. I apologized but it didn't seem to make a bit of difference.

Figuring I just didn't have the communication thing going on with this creature, I scurried off and stopped at a member of the felidae family. However, I got the same reaction.



















I didn't even have time to open my mouth.

I was starting to feel a little bad by this time. Here I was trying to save them and all I was doing was making things worse.

And all this animal did was stare.















Even in the afterlife, they stare.

It was closing in on time to depart and make haste to Ezra's ice box for some cool Coors Light to help ease the pain, so I turned off my photographing device and started to take off when one of the little people stumbled into me. Literally went right through me, but it left such a remarkable look on his face, I grabbed my photographing device for one last picture that would be ingrained in his memory for some time.
























This has made Henri quite quite sad.

I flew back to Ezra's house and opened a can of Coors Light and stared at my reflection and realized what happened.

I was wearing nothing but my birthday suit. As a ghost, those things don't matter. But, I guess in the civilized world of the wild kingdom, it does.

The moral of this story is to never materialize without making sure you have your trousers on, unless you're in Victoria Secrets, of course. At least there, you'd get appreciation.

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Wednesday, May 9, 2007

Henri Gets Tagged

I received an email today. Of course, Henri can receive email! It's henritheghost(at)yahoo.com. Do not forget to change the at part. I hear it gives you spam if you do it the other way and I'm not quite sure what spam is except it fills up your email box with Viagra and Girls Gone Wild DVDs of which Henri is going to check into as soon as he posts this.

But, I digress.

Does anyone love that word digress as much as I do?

Digress. Digress. Digress.

Anyway, it was from one of the lovely ladies who stops in on poor ol' Henri. Her name is Rene and she has a blog that she calls "A Little Cheese With That Whine."

These blog names make Henri chuckle.

Anyway, it seems she wants to play a game with me. Henri loves games!

But, I am not understanding the 21st century.

Rene has tagged me. In my time, when you tag someone, it wasn't a good thing. But, Rene would not send ol' Henri anything that wasn't a good thing...oooh la la what these ladies can think of to send me.

So, I am tagged.

I am supposed to do another meme and then tag eight others. Henri is psyched! What better way to get the ladies over to my blog and into my arms, n'est pas? What are these luscious women thinking?

Ahh...but there are rules so Rene has told me...

La Rules:

1. Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.

2. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.

3. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.

4. Don't forget to leave them a comment telling them they're tagged, and to read your blog.

So much work for ol' Henri when he's had too many Coors Lights, but for Rene, I will do it!

8 Things You Probably Didn't Know About Me

1. Victoria Secrets is my endroit très préféré à traîner, but only on Saturdays because of the vampires.

2. I was beheaded in 1632, but it was not because I was sleeping with Richelieu's wife as he thought. It was his nineteen-year-old virgin daughter but you didn't hear it from me. C'est magnifique!

3. Coors Light is my preferred beverage. I think that's a rather duh statement, n'est pas?

4. I am a gifted acrobat, but only on nights I have exhausted Ezra's supply of Coors Lights and there is a beautiful young lady beside me.

5. I liked Sanjaya.

6. I have never been paid for my nude shots in Playgirl, but I'll be humble and consider it my gift to womenkind.

7. I am a charter member of the Mile High Club even when I'm on the ground.

8. I have a fetish for Natasha Henstridge and it has nothing to do with her brains. Ohh la la!

9. I am so hot, even the sun looks for shade.

10. When they invented Henri de Montmorency, they threw away the key. Lucky for you, there's enough of me to go around!

Je suis le plus grand!

Now, this is the part ce devient intéressant. I am to find eight lovely ladies to play with along with me. Hmmm....okay, here are my choices but it was hard!

Daisy, Erica, Erin, Kathy, Ronda, Sandy or Cyn, Sandi, Maureen.

Meow!

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Henri Does Vampires

It is my understanding that someone wants me to be a part of some blogging thing involving trying to explain that ghosts exist. I'm barely used to blogging (although I am finding it gets plus agréable the more I do it) and it would take a lot to get me out from under this mountain of empty Coors Light bottles, but once I found out who it was...ohhh la la!

Her name is Caridad Pineiro. Never heard of her. Oh, wait. I do believe she is touring right now herself. Maybe I can fly over, show her what the ol' Henri's got and pick up some pointers from her. After all, a little pleasure with business makes the world better for Henri, n'est pas?

I always had a fondness for brunettes, so this might be right fun. Of course, I always had a fondness for blondes and redheads, but I digress.

The thing I find interesting about this jeune femme de mes imaginations is that she has a fetish.

Vampires.

Those blood-sucking varmints that hunt you down like a wolf on a full moon.

I remember back in the early 1600s, Saturday night was the only night we could freely walk the streets without some blood-thirsty vampire thinking we'd make a good meal. Thank goodness because every other night we were walking around smelling like garlic. Being a hump back and smelling like garlic, it was pretty hard to get a pretty young thing to look at you, so I didn't even try.

When I was beheaded in 1632, I wasn't put in the same realm as these blood suckers, so I'm not sure how high or low they ended up on the heavenly totem pole, but it was the last I saw of either of them.

However, since coming back to earth, I have seen them. Ils sont effrayants!

They hang out in storefronts in a much larger storefront they call a mall. These storefronts have music that is so loud, it makes your ears hurt. They are all dressed in black and I've heard them mentioned as being gothic-oriented, but I don't know that as a fact.

All I know is, I carry my garlic with me if I need to stop into Victoria Secrets which is just across from them.

So, now I hear this Caridad Pineiro (must be of Spanish descent) writes about them, and even stars them in her books.

If they ever start blogging, I am so not there.

But, whatever Caridad wants, Caridad gets as far as Henri is concerned, so I'll be over to her blog on Thursday, June 14. As it is not a Saturday, I will be carrying my garlic with me.

You are welcome to come visit. It's www.caridad.com/blog/. I'm the handsome one reeking of garlic.

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Tuesday, May 8, 2007

Henri Does Thongs

I never was much of a clothes horse, even on the physical realm, but it never occurred to me until last night when I was perusing over blogs and websites how much the 21st century was involved in clothing garments.

But, the one piece of clothing that confuses me more is the use of thong undergarments.

I mean, how would you get used to them? From what I can gather, it's a very slim piece of material that goes up the crack of your butt and stays there until you take them off.

I'm not sure why ladies (and even gentlemen!) seem to think this is a fashion statement; if indeed, it is. There must be a reason why they wear them and this is the only conclusion I can come up with.

I flew over a beach resort and the most ripe pair of buttocks caught my eye. Of course, being the ladies' man that I am, I zoomed right in, anticipating another night of bon temps when instead of a luscious tart to be found, it was a man wearing this thong undergarment with his buttocks hanging out on each side. Definitely not my tasse de thé.

And it didn't stop there. What I saw gave me nightmares. These thong undergarments were everywhere.

And since we were talking about memes yesterday, I have another one and it's called "Henri's Top Five Reasons Why You Shouldn't Wear Thongs."

Appréciez!

HENRI'S TOP FIVE REASONS WHY YOU SHOULDN'T WEAR THONGS:

1. You've had one too many shrimps on the barbie.



2. Presidents use you for wall hangings.



3. Bicycle riding puts new meaning in "wedgies."



4. Poop has nowhere to go.



5. No explanation necessary.


Ahhh...the 21st century. Il est étrange!

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Sunday, May 6, 2007

Henri Goes Blogging

I am to understand that I am to have a virtual book tour in June; at least, that's what my co-authors are telling me.

I'm not even sure what I am to do except answer questions. That I think I can handle.

But, this blogging thing. I am new at it and it truly fascinates me. I haven't had such fun since hanging out at the à bas Auberge de Baisse in Paris.

In case you don't know what that is, it's Boo Drop Inn in the American language, that is frequently hosted by dead celebrities and comics. Friday nights are all-you-can-drink nights for $4.95. I might be famous, but I'm cheap. And so are the women. And that's why I go being as I'm quite virile and quite handsome for a 364-year-old ghost.

But, I digress.

Blogging.

Being as I am about to go out on this virtual book tour, I wanted to see what blog land is all about. From what I can gather, the humans talk about all sorts of things, which I find quite entertaining.

There are posts about stay-at-home moms, dildos, Sanjaya.

There are posts about butt crack, bat mitzvahs, and I even found a blog talking about a book written by more than one author like my so-called co-authors and I have written. And I say "so called" because they all know it was I who wrote the book, but you can't fight city hall, I guess.

So, I'm presuming it's a free for all place to write whatever you want.

But, one thing I found rather interesting was this meme thing. If I understand it, you are supposed to write a list of things pertaining to yourself. Henri loves talking about himself!

So, tonight I give you my first attempt at a meme. This one is called "Ten Reasons Why I Hate Being a Stud."

Are you ready? Here we go...here we go...cie la vie!

TEN REASONS WHY I HATE BEING A STUD

1. There's only one of me to go around.

2. Playgirl won't stop calling me.

3. My brain says no, but my whacker says go.

4. They don't sell underoos big enough.

5. Even when I'm sick and throwing up, I'm still looking good.

6. They insist on me replacing Rosie O'Donnell on The View or they're going to close the show down.

7. I can't go out into public with a raincoat or I'll get arrested.

8. I not only stop traffic, I cause accidents.

9. I put the statue of David to shame.

10. When morning comes, I've already had 1,876,845 ejaculations and that's before I wake up.

Saturday, May 5, 2007

Introduction

Hello.

I am Henri de Montmorency, originally Grand Marshal of France and Governor of Languedoc, but now...I am...a ghost.

I was beheaded on the day before All Hallow's Eve in 1632 by the order of Richelieu, a man who I didn't quite see eye to eye with concerning my religious beliefs.

However, that's in the past. I do not regret standing up for my own beliefs and have accepted my untimely death, but truth be known, the afterlife is as they say in my native land of Paris, France, plus d'amusement.

If you have never been a ghost, I must tell you that we have certain charismatic qualities about us.

Before I was beheaded, I wasn't what you'd call easy to look at. For, you see, I was also a hump back. However, in the afterlife, I have become what I always knew was inside of me all along - verile, handsome and quite the lady's man, much to my surprise and delight.

I have roamed the earth for many centuries, but there was one home I finally attached myself to and it wasn't because I was ready to settle down because now that I was free of the torment of my disgusted appearance, I felt like a free bird ready to take flight at a moment's notice, but this one home was the home of Ezra Anne Thornberry.

And it wasn't because of anything romantic-related; it was because of a beverage she kept stocked in her ice box by the wonderful name of Coors Light.

I'd always loved fine wine in the past, but in a pinch, a case of Coors Light took the edge off mighty fine. Oooh la la! A ghost can't be too picky living in the 21st century, you know.

So, it was, I was kicking back, tossing back a can or two or six of this delightful beverage, when Ezra Anne finds out about a man looking for ghosts and, of course, my ears perked up.

It seems the man's name was Rodger Hawthorne III and he lived in a mansion in the mountains of North Carolina.

Rodger was on a ghost hunt for a woman with whom he was married and who also died an untimely death. Sarah was her name and by what we gathered at the time, her spirit was hard to reach. I could have told them she was there all along, but they had to go and find out for themselves.

Plus, if they did, they would each share the bounty of $1,000,000. Not chicken feed even in these times. Back in my time, it would have bought a whole continent.

Never one to turn down finding one of my own kind, I jumped at the chance to tag along. I couldn't remember a Sarah Hawthorne in the realm I had been in, but as the realms are all so divided and segregated according to what you were up there for, it would have been easy to miss her. But, still, the name rang a bell.

So, this is my story of how six women and one ghost go on a search to find the million dollar ghost.

If you can't wait for me to tell the story, you can go to Amazon and pick up the book yourself. It's called The Search for the Million $$$ Ghost.

I hope you will continue to visit my blog and, for now, I bid you adieu.

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