Scaramanga's elaborate foreplay ritual takes a sinister turn.
Hope Posters
Dog Hollywood has created these awesome James Bond themed parody images using President Obama’s iconic “Hope Poster“, from his 2008 campaign, as his inspiration.
The theme is “Dr. No” and the HOPE Posters feature James Bond and Dr. No like you have never seen them before…shaken, not stirred! Enjoy…
Dog Hollywood is my resident contributing digital artist and you can follow him here on Twitter: @DogHollywood
Solitaire
Mister Bond’s Little Black Book:
Solitaire
Age: 25
Occupation: Psychic
Employer: Dr. Kananga
Status: Virgin
"It is Death..."
The mysterious Solitaire…a young virginal beauty who was mixed up in some nasty business involving drugs, the occult and a mob of ruthless villains.
We met for the first time in Harlem, the notorious borough of New York where few caucasian men would wander in to, and even fewer would emerge from. Except me of course, because that’s what I’m expected to do when I’m on a mission.
I was following Dr. Kananga, the Prime Minister of a small island country called San Monique. He appeared to be in business with a brutal crimelord known as Mr. Big and Kananga had gone in to one of Mr. Big’s “Fillet of Soul” restaurants in Harlem. I decided to infiltrate it in my own unique way; by being the only white face in Harlem that day in need of a bourbon and some soul music.
Fillet of Soul: Don't sit in the booth's.
The problem was, Solitaire, rather annoyingly, had tipped off Dr. Kananga of my impending arrival by describing my entire journey using Tarot Cards. It’s a good job she didn’t ‘see’ what I was up to the weekend before that or things could have got really embarrassing.
The Lovers Card
It would seem that this demure and timid stunner had a psychic gift, a gift that Kananga was exploiting for his own nefarious ends. How diabolical, you would never catch me doing such a thing.
Kananga was using Solitaire, as he had her mother and grand mother before her. He was literally using her gift for fortune telling to orchestrate his shady enterprises in San Monique, New York and New Orleans. He was also using voodoo, and the cult of the mysterious Baron Samedi, to keep his employees and the people of San Monique in line.
At our intial encounter in the Fillet of Soul, I ended up coming face to face with Mr. Big after having a “nasty turn” in a booth there. I asked Solitaire to read my future. She asked me to “pick a card”, so I took one from the deck and revealed it to be ‘The Lovers’ card. “Us?” I asked, raising an eyebrow into my trademark knowing smirk. She looked very puzzled, or worried, I can’t quite remember which.
"I didn't see THAT coming."
Solitaire’s gift for telling fortunes did come with a price attached however. It was said that she could only use her ability as long as her virginity remained intact. Kananga knew this to be true, so you can imagine how angry he was going to be the next time we met. I love a good challenge and I did “rise to the occasion” on this mission, if I do say so myself.
Like a true bastard, my next encounter with Solitaire would ensure that the future she predicted for me would come true, and for that I needed to stack the odds in my favour. Literally.
"Time for Lover's Lesson number 2."
Asking her to pick a card from the deck this time, she revealed The Lovers card once again. From that moment on she would become like a red rose waiting to be plucked, and as I’m supposed to sacrifice myself for England, I couldn’t resist a good pruning.
Ok, so I cheated and the deck contained nothing but The Lover’s card, Solitaire had information on Kananga’s operation and I needed it. He was intending on flooding the United States with free heroin, which would in turn inflate the price; making him millions. He had to be stopped and at that stage of the mission, there really was no point in going off “half cocked” was there.
"Just kill me already."
As you can imagine, Kananga was not too pleased when he found out I had stolen his valuable piece of merchandise and taken away her, er, talent. Like all villians, he tried to have me killed by feeding me to some pet aligators on his farm in Louisiana, and then Solitaire and I to some sharks in San Monique.
What is it with these people? They just can’t shoot you, they need to have an elaborate plan of execution to inflate their ego and laugh maniacally at.
Solitaire and I eventually escaped Kananga’s clutches; thanks to a nifty Rolex watch that had a very convenient saw and magnet feature installed. You have to hand it to Q, he always seems to equip me with just the right gadget. Ingenious really, and that shark gun, who would have known how handy that would prove to be?
After an encounter on a train (in which I totally dis-armed one of Kananga’s henchman, Tee-Hee), I found the time to teach Solitaire a few more “Lover’s Lessons” which I have a gift for; and which curiously is not affected by my appetite for bedding vulnerable beauties. How very convenient.
Now if only I could figure out what happened to that Baron Samedi bloke…
Little Black Book Notes:
Double Entendre Rating: 4 Sex Appeal: 6 Feisty Index: 3 Scream Factor: 1
Mister Bond’s PPK Rating: 
Gifted, but gullible girl willing to trade her talent for a much needed quickie.
O.H.M.S.S.
Kiss Kiss Bang Bang’s
IMAGE OF THE WEEK
"Sorry Miss Dench, You're Fired..."
Presented without comment by Dog Hollywood*
*Dog Hollwood is Kiss Kiss Bang Bang resident photoshop & artwork expert. Rumour has it the MI6 Art Department is like Q Branch but with mousemats. Images are strictly for parody purposes only. You can follow Dog Hollywood on Twitter.
Pussy Galore
Mister Bond’s Little Black Book:
Pussy Galore
Age: 36
Occupation: Personal Pilot
Employer: Auric Enterprises
Status: Single
"My Name is Pussy Galore!"
Ahh Pussy…I remember the first time I laid eyes on this stunning beauty on board Goldfinger’s private jet. I had been drugged and was just coming round, when suddenly from out of the inky blackness came this blonde vision pointing a gun at me. “Who are you?” I said. “My name is Pussy Galore.” came the reply. “I must be dreaming!” I quipped coolly.
Pussy Galore, the very name has had many grown men and school boys alike snickering into the back of their hand. In the crazy world of espionage ‘exotic’ names are common place. Let’s face it, a name like ‘Brenda Harris’ just wouldn’t cut the mustard in the underworld now would it? So, it’s with some affection I fill in my first Little Black Book entry with the enigmatic Miss Galore.
- Pussy Galore’s Flying Circus Babes
The leader of the self monikered Pussy Galore’s Flying Circus, Pussy was in the employ of modern day King Midas, Auric Goldfinger, a fat nutjob obsessed with all things golden. Pussy was training a bevy of blonde beauties to carry out the aerial delivery of the Delta 9 nerve gas over Fort Knox during ‘Operation Grand Slam’.
I suspected that Pussy (snicker) was a lesbian. I thought this because she said she was “immune from my charm” on Goldfinger’s jet. I’ve always enjoyed a challenge being stud muffin and I could tell at a glance she was up for a bit of ‘Bonding’.
Pussy caught me eavesdropping on Goldfinger’s plan to irradiate the US gold reserve in Fort Knox, I was hiding under a giant model at the time seeing if there was any available totty in Goldfinger’s briefing. This icy encounter would be followed later by a playful roll in the hay barn and a rousing judo session. Goldfinger HAD ordered Pussy to ‘entertain’ me for the afternoon (no snickering at the back), and one thing led to another. What can I say, I AM expected to sacrifice myself for the good of the mission.
- A roll in the hay with Pussy
I didn’t put a hair out-of-place or wrinkle my grey three-piece Saville Row suit as you would expect in our hay barn tryst. Having said that; I did get hay in places a gentleman only discusses with his tailor. Oh, the things I do for England!
Somehow that sexy romp, and a little pat on backside, did the trick. God I’m good. Even possible lesbians hear rapture’s and repent to the side of good after getting their hands on Mister Bond’s ‘gadgets’. Job done.
Pussy switched the Delta 9 nerve gas and ultimately betrayed Goldfinger to my friend Felix Leiter of the CIA. After despatching Goldfinger on board his crashing private jet (I did warn him about firing guns in planes), we bailed out. Pussy and I then enjoyed a ‘post mission debriefing’. But that’s another story…
I guess Miss Galore wasn’t immune from my charms after all and I never did find where she kept the gold knuckles in THAT outfit. Mmm, Pussy…
Little Black Book Notes:
Double Entendre Rating: 10 Sex Appeal: 8 Feisty Index: 7 Scream Factor: 0
Mister Bond’s PPK Rating: Top Bond totty with a heart of gold.
Car Insurance
I was driving through the tunnel from Lake Como to Sienna, Italy and the next thing I know all hell breaks loose. Some guy in an Alfa Romeo must have taken a dislike to me overtaking him and what was supposed to be a nice drive around the Lake Como with Mr White, turned into a road rage nightmare…
My "cordoned off" Aston Martin DB-S
Well, that’s what my insurance claim says for my once beautiful Aston Martin DB-S. I’m certainly thinking I may lose my no claims discount and next years premium will go through the roof quicker than the passenger seat in my DB5.
I don’t know what it is about me and beautiful, fast cars. They don’t seem to last me too long that’s for sure. I guess when you’re in my line of work some minor “wear and tear” and the odd ‘ding’ is expected.
As you can see; my Aston Martin DB-S is awaiting the insurance company to send an assessor to view the damage. I must admit, I did try T-Cutting some of the deeper scratches out, but the missing door will take more than a black bag over it to disguise the extent of the damage and some rather ‘awkward’ questions.
Still, I’m hopeful that my initial description of the “road rage” incident I detailed on the claim form stands up or I’ll lose my 6 months “no claims bonus”.
"It's not as bad as it looks..."
At first, I thought these bullet holes in the dash didn’t look too bad. However I may have a hard time trying to pass them off as “clumsy cigarette burns”, as can happen when you smoke with the window open in rush hour traffic.
If only I could remember where the door ended up. It disappeared after a ‘minor scrape’ with a large truck, who clearly wasn’t looking where he was going. I should have stopped to pick it up but I was too interested in trying to get away from the maniac in tha Alpha. Italian drivers can be a little on the aggressive side, if I do say so myself.
It’s a good job I have taken my advance driving and “collision avoidance while being shot at course” or things could have been a lot worse. Still, I know the insurance assessor will take a dim view of my claim.
At least this one shouldn’t be as complicated as that time some guy tried to steal my lovely white Lotus Espirit Turbo by smashing the window while the anti-theft device was on. He tried to sue for compensation claiming the car ‘blew up’; but I managed to convince that assessor it was a fuel leak which ignited when the guy lit a cigarette.
Oh well, if the claim is dismissed the car will still be driveable. One has to look on the bright side, it no longer requires air conditioning or a quick clear screen on the back window. Oh, and those bullet holes in the dash, a handy place to put my new phone and sat nav.
Q’s not going to like this.
The screen used Aston Martin DB-S from the 22nd James Bond film “Quantum of Solace” is currently on display at the Heritage Motor Centre Museum at Gaydon, England.
Kiss Kiss Bang Bang 