Friday 19 October 2012

8........

Well, Folks,

I tried to broadcast one of my masterpieces on YouTube, and they pulled it over pornography complaints. Would ya believe it?  You'd have thought circumcision wasn't commonplace on the subway. Jeez Belize.

Anyway, I said I'd tell you about Walton. Here goes...



I know, he has the eyes of a killer. And he is one, folks. Right to the bone.

The night we met was bitterly cold, and Checkpoint Charlie was lit up like a torch. Roy and I passed each other, scurrying from one shell hole to another. Discretion was our watchword, folks. Everything back then, during the Cold War, was hush hush. Even your mother didn't know, and she knows everything. We were literally teetering on the brink of death, when Roy dislodged a tiny pebble.

The noise seemed to fill the whole of Berlin. It rang in my ears like the tolling of the bells of Notre Dame. 'Roy,' I whispered in my head, 'Roy, my dear friend, we are in peril.'

I waited for what seemed like hours.

Nothing stirred.



All was still.



"YOU GODDAM FUCKING SNOT-NOSED CUNT!!!" I whispered, quietly, "YOU HAD TO KICK THE FUCKING ROCK, YOU TWICE PROVED ASSHOLE!!!" I reasoned, almost silently, "YOU'VE SURE AS SHIT BROUGHT THE WHOLE FRIGGING HOUSE DOWN ON US NOW, YOU PRICK!!!" I reassured him, at no very great volume.

Then all of sudden, due entirely to Roy dislodging that pebble, the Stasi opened fire with their sub-machine guns. Roy was wounded in 7 places, which was entirely his own fault. I, on the other hand, was grievously deprived of my favorite rangers hat, which Roy has still, to this day, not replaced.




Anyway, that's enough for now. You all probably need to digest that.

But in the meantime, all my books are on "DOUBLE THE HALF-PRICE OFFER". Buy now, you shmucks.*

BS

*Secured loans are available. Your house may be at risk.




Wednesday 12 September 2012

9........

So,

Out of all the thousands of entries to my competition, I have one thing to say....

CALL YOURSELVES MAGICIANS? YOU GUYS COULDN'T ORGANIZE A CRAP SHOOT IN A WHOREHOUSE FOR CRISSAKES!

Lamentable. Laughable. Like you bozos have feet at the end of your wrists!

Okay, here's what I'll do. I'll "upload", despite being a lousy computer person, my own performance of a Solayme classic. Then you'll see what real magic is all about.

Then, after that, I'll finally spill the beans about me and Roy Walton.

But it ain't pretty. No. It's one sordid story of love, betrayal, a terrible haircut, more love, another two betrayals, Telly Savalas and a tub of jello.




No, it wasn't pretty. But it's a story that needs telling.

BS

Thursday 6 September 2012

10........

Well Folks,

                  "Ask not for whom the bell tolls,
                    It tolls for thee, Barry Solayme!"

Thus spoke the famous novelist, William Shakespeare.



There's a new, FAKE kid in town, calling himself "LARRY HORAYNE". He's pretending to be Yours Truly, but really he is JUST SO MUCH JISM OFF MY THROBBING, LEAKING COCK ALREADY!!!

Alright, the kid seems to know about cards, some. FROM HAVING READ AND DIGESTED ALL MY FREAKIN' BOOKS, THAT IS! But the kid is full of psychobabble, and has probably been hitting the creme de menthe once too often.

All the same, I feel it might be time to hang up my gloves. So I'm offering a countdown.


I want your presentation of a Solayme Classic, on video, for my final countdown. This is number ten, so I await your offerings! I nominate Roland to go first, followed by Larry Horayne, (THAT LOW DOWN GOON)

I suggest you click this link before recording your Barry Solayme Classic Routine.

BS

Thursday 19 July 2012

What's Good for the Goat is Gold for the Goose


Well Folks,

I've been besieged by hate. Assailed by ignorance. I've been wilfully misunderstood, and all in the name of transparency. Meanwhile, Tricky Dicky turns his "classic pass" eye to the internet denigration of a magic legend, and some English schmuck defecates all over my reputation?


Again?




The summit of this guy's output is a BLUE RIP-OFF, OF OFF A BLUE RIP-OFF ARTIST!

Big friggin' whoop-di-doo-dah-day.

Any excuse will do to mention that he works in the "adult industry". But a brief perusal of his work in magic will quickly demonstrate A LAMENTABLE LACK OF ANY PERCEIVABLE SKILL TO BACK UP YOUR PONY, FUCKING CUNTISH, ATTITUDE TO PEOPLE WHO HAVE EXCELLED IN WHAT YOU ONLY DREAM OF DOING, WHILE YOU PAY FOR A GODDAM BLOW-JOB FROM SOME FLY-BLOWN BINT.

The magic world does not rejoice in you baiting me. It weeps. For Big Dick Kaufman, and his many demons.





BS



Saturday 30 June 2012

Andrew "F***ing" Burnakid? That guy needs to be STOPPED!!

Folks,

First off, he's a freak! I wish I could say it in a better way, but if you cross magic with Canadian then..... THE MIND BOGGLES!




 Second off, the free citizens over at The Magic Cage have launched drone attacks on his ass. You all know the dangers of ignoring a fatwa?

Third off, we don't like his journalism. Why so honest, Mr Barnaby Kidder? Have some respect!
You asshole.

Fourth, and final, off: HE USES GODDAM CURSE WORDS TO SELL HIS FREAKIN COIN DVD's!!! That ass munching nerdy wurbler won't have as much pep in his sails when I've finished the rigging. No.

And that Al Schneider needs to watch his step too...





 BS

Saturday 26 May 2012

Dear Barry...


Hey Folks,
                  For a long time now, I've been praised for my listening skills. Many friends and family members have suggested that I have a talk show or agony column. I decided for the latter, as both my empathy and sympathy are equally legendary....

************************************


Dear Barry,


I have always been a little person. Many have mocked me for this. I have always walked home from school with cuts and bruises, other kids hate me. If only people would understand me when I do my variation to "Out of This Universe", I would stop being bullied. But tell me, Barry, why are you so little? Is it genetic, or what?


E. Rection


Dear Mr Rection,


A LITTLE PERSON, EH? YOU ASS FUCKING RUNT.


BS

************************************

Dear Barry,

I think your reaction may have been a bit harsh just now. I am a big fan of yours, but will probably not post agian soon, due to your blunt attitude, bordering on rudeness.

F. Laccid

Dear Mr Laccid,

WELL, MR LITTLE BAD SPELLER, "F. LACCID" HAS LEFT THE BUILDING,  "AGIAN", WHAT A SURPRISE!!!

BS

Dear Barry,

(sorry, I meant "again")

F. Laccid

Dear Mr Laccid,

I THOUGHT YOU HAD LEFT THE BUILDING???? 

BS

Dear Barry,

I'm truly sorry for my behaviour in general. I'm not sleeping well. Only in the last year: my entire family was eaten by wolves, my house fell into a swamp, I bit my nephew's left ear off in a gardening accident, my grandmother gave birth to a tractor, and the local Spar went from Conservative to Green. Plus, my car developed piles.

F. Laccid


Dear Mr Laccid,

I'm sorry, for your loss.  

BUT AREN'T YOU THE STUPID FUCKING ASSHOLE THAT ANNOYED ME IN THE PAST? YES, I THINK YOU ARE, MR F. FRICKING LACCID. YOU PRICK, YOU TURD BEYOND HUMAN RECKONING. YOU ARE TRULY AN ASS BURGLAR, WITHOUT ANY DOUBT. 

BS



Thursday 17 May 2012

The Time I Whipped Napoleon at Checkers


Hi Folks,
Back in the early 1800's, I was hanging out in Paris with Henri Descremps. He wanted me to publish a collection of his occasional contributions to Armageddon, so I was visiting to give him a helping hand. It was going to be called "Supplément à la Supplément à la Magie blanche dévoilée",  which is a pretty snappy title, I think you'll agree! However, it never came to fruition, for one reason or another. So I was kicking my heels in the city of romance, looking for amusement, when I received a surprising invitation....


Well, technically speaking the invitation was addressed to Henri, but as he was out having the axle mended on his barouche, I figured he wouldn't mind my taking a peek. Here's a translation of what it said,

"My Dear Descremps,

                                   It has come to Our attention that you are currently accommodating a curiosity from the Americas. It would be Our pleasure to receive him, in your company, at Versailles. It has been weeks since We have invaded any country of significance, so even the slimmest possibility of amusement must be seized upon. Make sure the American is house trained, and that he fully understands the etiquette due to Our royal personage.

                                                           The Emperor Napoleon.    

ps Josephine sends hugs and asks, 'Can you please bring the cups and balls?'

pps Could you also bring The Magic Coloring Book, as that is my absolute favorite."

Well, I've been called many things by many people, but never a "curiosity"!!! I don't mind telling you that my goat was well and truly gander for the goose, and it was all Henri could do to calm me down on the way to our audience with The Emperor, a few days later.

"Listen Barry," he hissed, "The Emperor is a touchy fellow, he is easily offended. So please, if you value your life, you must treat him with solemnity and respect at all times."

"Henri baby," I replied, "I've entertained more of the crowned heads in Europe than you've had warm croissants. I know how to behave around these guys, you just have to trust me on that."

"But that's what worries me, Barry," he muttered. I was at the ready, with a suitably cutting riposte, but just then we arrived at the gates of Versailles. 


It isn't often that I'm lost for words, but the sight of them took my breath away. The chateau was okay, and the gardens were kind of fancy (if you like that sort of thing), but the gates were spectacular. I'll never forget those gates until the day I die.

"Is it not magnificent, my dear Barry?" whispered Henri, his face pale with awe.

"It is, Henri, it is! What a pair of gates!!!!" I said, hoarse with amazement. Henri looked at me quizzically before replying.

"It is as The Emperor said. A curiosity. Bof!"

Well now, any pleasant thoughts I had of French grandeur and majesty vanished with the repetition of that godforsaken word. But still, I maintained my composure, my voice hardly rising above a murmur as we disembarked from the carriage.

"YOU GODDAM PATRONISING FROGGY BASTARD," I demurred, "A FREAKING CURIOSITY AM I? YOU ASSHOLE!" Although it was a struggle, I moderated my language, being careful not to appear aggressive or threatening, "AND WE CAN SETTLE THIS ANY WAY YOU WANT, YOU CHEESE-BRAINED TURD WRANGLER! SWORDS, PISTOLS, OR THE GOOD OLD FASHIONED AMERICAN WAY!!!"

"And what, pray tell, might that be?" asked Henri, reddening as he waxed his moustache.

"KNIVES AND BROKEN BOTTLES, YOU PREENING NANCY BOY!!!" I informed him, with considerable restraint, as I broke off the neck of a nearby bottle of Constantia and pulled out my color changing bowie knife.

"Have a care, Barry, have a care," spoke Henri, as he gestured over my shoulder.

"I'M NOT FALLING FOR THAT ONE, YOU GARLIC RIDDEN MONKEY BOY, JUST WAIT TIL I...." but at that moment I realised Henri hadn't been bluffing. Two huge guards in bearskins grabbed hold of my arms, forcing me to the floor. Then a man walked in front of me, and taking hold of my chin, he forced my head up so that our eyes met.


"Ah so, this is the curiosity," I had to bite my tongue, folks, "He is very noisy, no? Well, maybe we will have some sport from him, at any rate. You have brought The Magic Coloring Book, Descremps? Excellent! Now, come along!"

And with that, I was dragged behind him, along seemingly endless corridors, until we arrived at a beautifully furnished room. A fire burned merrily in the grate, small tables displayed elegant clocks and delightful trinkets, collected from the four corners of the earth. The walls were hung with sumptuous tapestries and oil paintings, each of inestimable value. But the thing that really caught my eye was the brass coal scuttle. Never will I forget that coal scuttle, not until the day I die! 

Four chairs were positioned round a table, and in one of them sat Josephine. She was instantly attracted to me, as powerful women often are. (I could tell this by the way she pointedly ignored me throughout my visit, always a sure sign that you've been noticed!)

                                                           
She pretended to be delighted over Henri's second rate Cups & Balls routine. His final loads consisted of three perfectly balanced gold filigree eggs, encrusted with precious jewels, each larger than the one before. I could only laugh, as I always insisted on fresh eggs for my own routine.

Next, Henri did The Magic Coloring Book for Napoleon. He had to do it a good few times, as every time he finished, Bonaparte clapped his hands and said, "Again, Again!!" jumping up and down on his little chicken feet.

Finally, he turned to me, and ignoring my borrowed deck, he brought out the craziest set of Checkers I ever did see.



The front row of each side looked similar to each other, and yet anything but a flat, circular disk. The back row were shaped variously: on horseback, ecclesiastically, architecturally and regally (of both genders!).

"You have insulted my magician," said Boney, "And you have insulted my personage. In short, you have insulted France by your buffoonery!"

"Well, I BEG YOUR PARDON LORD SHORT STOP," said I. But as the guards drew their sabres, I considered that it was time to reach for a new level of diplomacy. "Lord But A Short Stop To Ultimate Greatness, was what I meant. That is, how may I help your most holy highness?" I quickly corrected myself.


"I will tell you, Barry Solayme. You will please to play the," he gestured at the checkers board and made French noises, "at the, how you say, Les échecs?"


"Sure, sure, lays checkers," said I, "Let's play, Boney baby."

And boy did I play!

The guy knew nothing about checkers! He couldn't even move the counters the right way!! He kept jumping 'em round, and going diagonal, then straight. The first few moves I made, he got so agitated he nearly had me killed by the bearskin boys. I tell ya, it was only when I'd doubled, and spiked my horsey counter through the princess counter, that he started to realise my preeminence at checkers.

"Fou," he kept saying, "Fou, fou, fou!!!" Well, folks, that's French for 'phooey', because Boney just couldn't bear to be beat by the American CURIOSITY!! I sure turned the tables on that guy.

"Tell me, Barry", said The Emperor, "Tell me what should I make as my next conquest? Which of the fat countries should I set my Corsican nose against?"

"Well," I replied, "Whatever you do, don't make it Russia, highness. The winters are bitter, and you'll struggle to maintain your grip within the vastness of a huge nation." He laughed, obviously agreeing with me, "And if you were to make that cardinal blunder, highness," Boney guffawed, "Your nation will fail at war for the next two hundred years."

Boney blanched, then spluttered like a landed pike, "And you? You blundering, gauche imbecile! What will you be calling me? Eh, poutain?"

As I flicked a crumb off my sleeve, I rejoined, "A cheese eating surrender monkey, your mightiness."


BS





    




  

Saturday 5 May 2012

REAL Fuckin' Secrets - 2

Hi Folks,

              Yes, it's that time of the month again. I'm not talking about your wife kicking seven shades of shit out of you, just because the painters are in. No. I'm talking about "REAL Fuckin' Secrets - 2", people. We promised you organic, we promised you original, we promised you WORKERS!!!!

Well, we just went and delivered, folks. All the way from one side of New York State to the other, magicians will be cracking open a truly workable tool for all situations, on any continent, in any country. Yes, that's right folks, this was meant to make all y'all feel included, even those folks who don't live in New York State, in the United States of America.

Let's face it, who isn't a Yankees fan in this day and age? From Thailand to Timbuktu, folks go crazy for the Yankees. So, introducing this totally NORMAL New York Yankees candy cane, and performing MAGIC with it, will seem totally NORMAL. Wherever the hell you live. Bitch.

As the performance involves a sweet ACAAN routine, we have given you both a red and a blue special Yankees candy cane, to allow you to use your deck of choice.

It's organic, it's international, it comes out of a bull's asshole....

It's REAL Fuckin' Secrets!!!!

BS

Friday 6 April 2012

REAL Fuckin' Secrets

Hi Folks,


Here's your April surprise! It's a brand new double whammy from 'Real Fuckin' Secrets'.

"Why a double whammy?" you ask. Well, I'll tell ya. Not only do you get to remove your thumb, you get to put it back on again! You lucky, lucky people.

Anyone caught giving this prized information out to anyone, including their mother, will be castrated. With a rusty set of shears.

I worked my ass off over this production, and if some pony-assed jerk-water is gonna squeal then I'm sending the boys in. You have my word.

BS

Saturday 3 March 2012

HAUNTED! - by Barry Solayme

Greetings....

Tonight/Today I am being mysterious. Oh yes. I have a very special haunted deck routine that will revolutionize the genre....




My deck cuts itself using a urinating girl. You don't get much more "Haunted" than that. Watch out for the pus and sweat, it's part of the inner workings.

BS

Monday 27 February 2012

Man Who Sleeps With Goats! (called James L Clark)

I dreamed that I went to another place. It was full of teenagers and fruitcakes...



There was a goat in front of me, it said, "My naaaame is Jaaaames L. Claaaaark. And I have a very little winkie."





"I also design stupid sunglasses, which I have had to copy off cleverer people," said the goat, James L Clark.




As he went off to fuck a badger.




"And I'm actually the reincarnation of Walter Mitty, sorry, erm, I mean Buddha!" said a jubilant James L. Clark, (recently voted cunt of the year, by the entire world.)

And then I woke up, folks, and realised that I had not been dreaming!

BS




Thursday 23 February 2012

The Solayme Internet Diaries 3 - **/**/2012

Dear Diary,

Maybe it's the Creme de Menthe talking, I don't know. But I feel sad.

It's a cruel world out there. Young kids are taking magic way too seriously; they see it as some kind of career. That's a canard, little chickens, magic is a joke. A little known, tight angled joke. If you aren't in the know, then I can't help you.

I'm reminded of my grand-nephew, Frankie. He was tempted to go off at the deep end with this magic stuff, until his father, Tommy "The Psycho" Trollo, beat the living fucking shit out of him.




It put him on the right path, but with fewer brain cells.

I dunno. Life doesn't get any easier. Not when you're several thousand years old, with a few millennia left to run.

My advice, after all this living and dying? Learn to take it easy.


That's right. Let the tension release from your body. Breathe out. That's right.

AND NOW KEEP IN YOUR MOTHER FUCKING HEAD THAT I'M THE FUCKING KING!! I'M BARRY SOLAYME, SO HELP ME GOD!!!

KEEP THAT THOUGHT IN YOUR FRICKING SKULL, YOU SHIT WIT, MY NAME IS BARRY SO-FUCKING-LAYME!!!

Aaaaaand...... you're back in the room.

BS

Friday 17 February 2012

The Solayme Internet Diaries 2 - **/**/2012

Dear Diary,

I had that Andrew M. on the phone all night. Jeez, what a total shower.


He can't decide what he wants to be. As a journalist he blathers, as a magician he blithers. The guy should just knuckle down and go into business. It's clear to many, but opaque to the mighty boob.

Ben T. has the right idea, with all that Blue Bellend bullshit. It's a load of pussy whip, maybe, but Andrew M. would fit right in. If I have to read through one more rambling piece of crap at "Ye Olde Piece O' Shit Shoppe", then I think I'll fucking puke. That place sucks serious cock already.

* * * * *

Now Vlad69 won't stop crying. I told him "Ahimsa" but he says it's ruined. How can a freaking word be ruined, for chrissakes? That goddam pussy. Still, he buys my books, and according to himself he's some kind of Rosa Parks character. Who knew...


* * * * *


Finally, Damian J. has overstepped the mark in releasing MY effect, "DICKWANKERED" as "COCKWANKED", which is clearly an infringement of copyright. I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE MR SUSSEX GOAT, AND I'LL HOUND YOU TO THE END OF THE FREAKING PLANET!!


And I've got the pirate on my side. 

And he says.... 

Ahaaaaaargh......

(and he's got some vicious balloon animals for your ass)

BS


Monday 13 February 2012

The Solayme Internet Diaries 1 - **/**/2012

Dear Diary,



David P. has been on the phone all day. Funny, but I keep hearing clicks and whirrings whenever I use the phone. Note to see Dr Rachenbaumer.

Advised David P. for the final time to issue a qualified apology. That dumb schmuck, he gave far too much away for such a trivial issue.

Meanwhile, that cafe-assed motherfucker Steve has banned me. THAT TOTAL FUCK! WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK? THAT FUCKING ASS-FUCKING FUCK-THE-ROYAL ASS-FUCK!



I mean, if these guys were at all civilised and didn't resort to vicious words, then we could all get along.

Oh, yeah, and that total shit-wipe Richie Goddam Kaufman went and killed yet more evidence. That lousy fricking hood. Luckily he's too stupid to notice my subtle plan.



BS

Sunday 5 February 2012

MY REVENGE!

And so,

This is what got me banned from the Genii Forum, (the beauty's name was Steven Youell):

" Now, you little as*wipe, you choice piece of sh*t, you excuse for a godd*m life, I'll hound you into c*nting hell, you b*stard."

And so it went on, although perhaps a tad less polite. Let me tell you that the guy has NO TALENT WHATSOEVER AS AN ENTERTAINER!!!

No, he survives on bullshit. For instance, he invented a man called "Harry Lorayne",



WHICH SOUNDS A LITTLE LIKE MY NAME, and starts posting as him on the Genii Forum. Next thing I know, he [Harry Lorayne] is enacting some horrific and grotesque parody of myself, which is TOTALLY UNNACCEPTABLE!!! Next he gets banned and I'm left with the miasma of unpleasantness.

Believe me, I would have been all over this earlier, only I had pressing matters to deal with regarding my protege, David Penn.

But more of that next time, folks!

BS

Wednesday 18 January 2012

*** SECRET AREA for the A.S.S.H.O.L.E. ***

Play this and read on....




Here is where we encourage comments on the A.S.S.H.O.L.E, and performance tips to our loyal customers!!!!

Feel free to contribute YOUR ideas, so WE don't have to think about it!!!

PH & BS

Porno Harristor ......(with Barry Solyame)...... Presents... "A.S.S.H.O.L.E."

Okay, first off, this is contractual.

 IT SHOULD BE MY FREAKING NAME FIRST, AND THAT SHITWIT LAST, FOR CHRISSAKES!!!! AND WHAT'S WITH THE GODDAM FUCKING BRACKETS, YOU FUCKS????

Enough.

I would like to warmly welcome a new effect from a very good magician. He hasn't appeared in 'Armageddon', but he sells the helluva lot of units.

Now his new effect, with my backing, is an effect so new that it still squeaks when you walk in it.

What is more...

...it is totally frigging forbidden.



I mean Verboten.

C'est interdit.

It's simply not workable in any situation. You might as well load your forage cap with pineapples as try and pull this one off secretly.

On the other hand, if you are confident of co-ordinating assassinations, with a background in Special Forces, then this will be genuine worker for YOU!!!

Oh yes.

The secret to A.S.S.H.O.L.E. is yours for only $296.76 (PayPal the usual address).

Access to the "Secret Area" is password protected.

PH & BS

Friday 13 January 2012

The Phantom Donkey

Well a certain Mr. Smiling Notebook has been claiming improvements on MY Mexican Turnover.

Just go compare HIS version...

...with MINE!!!


I think you'll agree, that mine is the superior. No need to rush it Mr. Donkey, I think you'll find that my smoother, slower version is the more deceptive. Obviously I edited the full tutorial for YouTube to just show the performance!

And here's another thing, a lot of people seem to think that 'The Grinning Burro' is none other than THAT FOUL-MOUTHED SCOTCH PIECE OF SHORTBREAD, ROY WALTON!! Well, it just happens that he isn't. But don't worry, I've got a score to settle with that Glaswegian drink of water, and it'll happen, Roy, just you wait.....





Yeah, you sure seem relaxed there in that sunny Glasgow cafe, but one of these days you'll regret what you did to me. One of these days, Roy, one of these days...



BS

Friday 6 January 2012

Barry Takes to Buddhism

Ommmmmmmmm



Santhi, Followers.

Now that the new year has come, I must share with you my enlightenment. Something uncanny has happened. A bodhisattva named Steven has led the way to a shining, golden path, which we all must now follow.

Therefore, let us be good to one another. Let us treat one another with kindness and humility. Let each and every magician be at one with the eternal, and break our bonds with the cosmic wheel.

That is all.

Ahimsa.

Barry.