Vlad’s Vampire Diary: A Squirrel Walked Into A Bar (and it was cute)

A short tale about a night at a bar made even longer and more rambling by Vlad, King of Vampires.

Vlad’s Vampire Diary: A Squirrel Walked Into A Bar

Dear Diary,

My friend Randolpho suggested we go up to the mountains to a place called Donner Lake. 

“James invited us to his cabin,” he said. “We can even go skiing. The snow will be amazing.”

“Donner Lake was where a group of people were trapped for the winter and turned to cannibalism,” I said.

Randolpho scowled at me as he always does. “That was in 1846. It was also probably one of the most poorly planned trips in the history of anywhere. A few years later came the California Gold Rush, and San Francisco, and art movements, the Transcontinental Railway, and Hollywood, and University of California, and Silicone Valley, and Squaw Valley.”

“The highway might be closed,” I said.

“Come on Vlad, we’re Vampires. Being stuck in the snow for a few days isn’t going to hurt us. Besides, the roads are plowed and I have chains for my tires.”

“Fine,” I said, “but make sure you bring a cooler with blood in it. I do not want to have to eat you if we get stuck in the snow.”

I used to be fearless, but after being locked up in a crypt for 300 years the modern world can wear me out. Having no point of reference to anything cultural or historical is like being blind in an art museum with no docent.

So I agreed to go. Lord have mercy on my cold dark Vampire soul.

~ Vlad

Dear Diary,

Randolpho and I left in the morning with a trunk full of blood, blankets, something he calls beef jerky, hot coffee from Badfish, and his vast collection of New Wave music.

It took us six hours to get to James’s cabin. By then it was dark, the highway had been closed, and I was starving.

At the cabin James had left a note saying I will be right back, meet you at Bernard’s. James explained to me that Bernard’s is a bar. I wondered where James could have gone. The storm had turned into a blizzard. There was nowhere to go.

Randolpho handed me a pair of snow shoes and we walked snowblind to the bar. My friend kept on his ridiculous tall hat, as always. I do not know how he kept it on in the storm.

Big Hat

Randolpho and his tall hat which he rarely takes off.

We arrived at lone building surrounded by trees. A large front deck was festooned with white twinkle lights that looked like fairies in the snow filled air. As we opened the doors and walked in we were greeted by a tall man with red hair and a sharp nose. Randolpho introduced him to me as Bernard.

“What will you have to drink?” asked Bernard. “I can make you an Irish Coffee with a blood chaser. Of course the beer is cold.” Then he laughed. “Don’t be surprised Vlad. I know you’re Vampires. We get a lot of your kind in here.”

I scanned the room. All female heads turned to look at me. I smiled a bit in a friendly way without my fangs. I am used to it.

I sat at the bar. Next to me sat two men. One introduced himself to me with a rough hand with fingers ending in dirty nails. He was sharp nosed with pointy teeth. His small black eyes showed no fear. His name was Buster. His small friend sat next to him sleeping with an ocassional snort.

“I come here for the ladies,” he said with a snorting laugh. “They’re trapped with me now that the blizzard is coming down. Nobody leaves this place tonight. That means more TLC for me.”

My stomach was growling by now and I looked towards Buster and his sleeping friend.  Randolpho nudged me and whispered, “Don’t even think about it Vlad. Biting into Buster would be like eating week old room temperature sushi you purchased at a gas station in the Mojave Desert.”

A beautiful red headed woman sat down next to me, and next to her sat her beautiful white blonde friend. Buster leaned over me and winked at the ladies. They looked at him in disgust.

“You smell like you are carrying a dead animal under your shirt,” I said to Buster.

“You never know. There MIGHT BE a dead animal under there. And guess what pretty boy, those ladies might like someone who doesn’t smell like a fucking flower farm. They might like a guy with a little meat on him.”

He slid off of his chair and blew a kiss at the women, “Hey ladies, I gotta take a leak but when I’ll let you rub my hairy belly, and even more if you’re good.” He left with a blast of loud gas and a skip in his step. Even as a Vampire I have my limits of what amounts of disgusting things I can take in.

The women looked away from Buster and scooted closer to me. Randolpho and I were ready to settle down with them for the night when the doors flew open and a gust of wind and snow blew into the bar along with a SQUIRREL.

A squirrel walked into the bar.

It was a large gray squirrel who weighed maybe 2 pounds. He jumped on the bar and shook off his fur, then pounded his tail and chattered out a shrill demanding call.

Bernard the bartender put bowl of mixed nuts and a shot of Bourbon in front of the squirrel. The little animal sat on the bar and ate nuts while sipping the drink.

The Squirrel looked at me then spelled out a work with nuts.

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CUTE

“Yes, I know you are cute my dear Squirrel, I said.

The Squirrel shook it’s small gray head, thumped it’s tail and then pointed a tiny finger at me. Then it barked at me and pointed at the nuts.

Cute. Oh how this plagues me. I do not understand this cute. Squirrels and kittens are cute. I am the Vampire King. How can I be cute?

The two women giggled. “You are so cute,” they said in unison.

I thought to myself, there is my dinner right there.

But no, the door opened again and our friend James came into the bar with a gust of wind and snow. In his arms was his baby unicorn. Then out from behind the bar came a woman with rainbow colored hair.

“Awwwwww, what a sweet baby unicorn,” she said holding out her arms. The unicorn went straight to her. James winked at us and went off to a back table with the woman. James is such a, what do they say, a dog. James is such a dog, even for a Vampire.

Right on behind James came a man with two huge wolves with glowing red eyes.

The man took a back table with the wolves. I soon realized he was another Vampire who came with two Werewolves.

“We take all kinds in here,” said Bernard. “A blizzard doesn’t discriminate and neither do we.”

It is a good attitude to have. Believe me, I am a 675 year old Vampire so I know a thing or two.

The last person to arrive was a tall dark haired man with an Australian accent. “Clem!”  all the ladies called out.

I was shocked. He was as handsome as I am. Maybe more so. It was no problem. It took some of the pressure off of me.

The night went on and the twenty-five guest of Bernard’s Bar drank, danced, ate, and talked until Bernard said last call at around 2:00 a.m.

But not before I spent some quality time with the pale blonde named Angel, but that story can wait for another time.

~ Vlad

Dear Diary,

This morning James, Randolpho, and I walked down to Bernard’s for coffee. Yes, even Vampires need coffee after a long confusing night.

A dead possum lay in the road in front of the bar.

“Do you think we should bury it?” Asked James.

“The snow is too deep. Just let the vultures or coyotes get it,” said Randolpho.

On the front deck a small armadillo with an odd nose was curled up in a chair, half covered by an old plaid blanket.

“Wow,” said Randolpho. “That’s a Pigladillo. I haven’t seen one of those in years.”

As we opened the door we could see two pretty little squirrels, one red, and one white, sitting on the bar eating nuts. Nearby a fox was eating dog food out of a bowl. A large black and brown kangaroo sat at a back table eating a salad. A unicorn who looked like a Rainbow Donkey ran up to us.

James put his tiny unicorn down to play with his new friend. Now THAT is cute.

A tall handsome man with a bushy head of gray hair stood behind the bar.

“Where is Bernard? Sleeping in?” asked James.

The man at the bar smiled. “Bernard is right there eating breakfast,” he said as her gestured at the fox. The women, Angel and Red are at the bar. Clem is the kangaroo in the back having a salad. Buster and his friend are out front. Don’t worry about Buster, the snow plow will scoop him up. I put a blanket over his friend.”

He looked at our confused faces and laughed. “I’m surprised at you guys. You’re Vampires. You should know this stuff. Full moon. Yes, it was a full moon last night. They’re Werepeople. You know, animals except when the moon is full then they turn into people. It was a full moon last night. They all turned into people.”

No wonder the woman called Angel tasted a little gamey.

The fox looked up at me and winked, as if he could read my mind.

The man behind the bar said, “I’m Bill, but everyone calls me Evil.”

“You’re…” Randolpho started to say.

“Evil Squirrel. Yep, I’m a Weresquirrel. That was me at the bar last night.”

We sat down and had coffee with Evil, and talked about the weather, the animals, and the strange world in which we live.

I do not know how long we will have to stay up at Donner Lake, but I will let you know when I return home.

~ Vlad

~ end

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This is what Vampires use to grind nuts. CUTE CUTE CUTE

Juliette is now on the blog.

Well now (clears throat), this was my silly submission to the 2019 Evil Squirrel’s Nest Contest of Whatever. The prompt was A Squirrel Walked Into A Bar.

If you’re a fan of Evil Squirrel’s Nest, which you should be, you’ll understand all of the inside jokes and character references.

This is such a fun contest. If you haven’t entered it you still have a few days. This is the link https://evilsquirrelsnest.com/2019/01/27/the-sixth-annual-contest-of-whatever/. (or just CLICK HERE.) Check out the other fabulous and fun entries from the comments section and ping backs. These will make you LAUGH OUT LOUD. As an added bonus all of the other entries are a lot shorter than my rambling tale.

The Sixth Annual Contest Of Whatever!

Below are links to my past entries, including the 2017 WINNER of the CONTEST OF WHATEVER.

By the way, Game Day is still a Vlad’s Vampire Diary fan favorite.

For all of Vlad’s Vampire Diary entries CLICK HERE.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

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Not quite a Pigladillo but close enough.
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My cats Oscar and Gloria because they’re cute.

Here are some photos of my squirrel at the Bird Feeder Bar.

https://evilsquirrelsnest.com/2019/01/27/the-sixth-annual-contest-of-whatever/

Vlad’s Vampire Diary: Modern Problems

Dear Diary,

Over 300 years ago when I was King of the Vampires no one wanted to come into my country. I did not care except for one bad winter when my people were going hungry. I antagonized the ruler of a neighboring land. He sent in a large army of hot blooded men. My people were well fed for the rest of the winter and saved.

I miss those times.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Why was I not told that putting a blow dryer in the sink would cause me to be electrocuted? Until four years ago I did not even know what the word or the very concept of electrocution was.

The blow dryer is an amazing invention that I could have never imagined in my previous life before I was locked in a crypt for 300 years. There has been so much I have missed out on.

There is so much I still do not understand. How was I supposed to know about the dangers of electricity? Why did not anyone tell me of this?

Gillian, my Vampire lover, had left her blow dryer out in my bathroom. A bathroom is another modern marvel that I shall go into sometime in the future. My hair was wet. It is winter. I used the blow dryer.

Several hours later Gillian was shaking my shoulder and calling my name. I was on the bathroom floor. Apparently I had the water running in the sink and somehow the blow dryer became wet.

“Had you been a normal person you’d be dead,” Gillian scolded me.

“By what do you mean a normal person,” I asked her.

“Not a Vampire. I swear Vlad you must be more careful,” she said. “Water and electricity do not mix. EVER.”

“Thank you for telling me,” I said as she helped me up.

She scowled at my sarcastic tone. Women are like that. They give one that look. The look is not a modern thing. It has been going on since time began.

“How does my hair look?” I had to ask.

“Perfect. Your hair always looks perfect,” she said, then she left the room.

I do not understand women anymore than I understand electricity.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

I find myself locked out of everything. Not with a key. No, not a key. I am locked out with passwords that do not work.

At one time I, as the King of Vampires, gave out secret passwords for the safety of my kingdom. If I gave one of my subjects a special word I would not then tell him that the word was wrong and that he could not use the same word again and that I would lock him out for thirty minutes no matter how desperate he was to get inside.

No, in this insane world I find myself in I am forced to live in what they call a VIRTUAL world. That means a world where everything is invisible to me. There are no people. There is no help. I am forced to do all of my business in a maze of darkness in which I have no control.

My bank said I had to change my password for my own security. I changed it. Then they said I could not use the new password. Then they said I must have 8 letters, at least one capital letter, and several symbols. I could not use an old password. I put in a new password. They said it would not work and locked me out.

My friend Randolpho said all of his passwords are “Fuckyousuckdick!”

I told Randolpho that he was vulgar and it would end up haunting him. He then told me that he never has problems with his passwords. I find that difficult to believe.

Each time I get on the Internet I must change passwords. Security questions ask things I know nothing of. I did not go to high school. It does not believe my first pet was a unicorn. It asks me questions of things I do not know or have no experience in. Or it will not believe my answers. It. What is it?

One day Randolpho attempted to explain that the brain in a computer was dots and dashes. What are dots and dashes I asked. He could not answer. I think he is, what do they say, pulling my leg. He is telling lies. It is like alchemy. No man can make gold out of nothing. Something is going on that I do not understand. One day I shall find the answer. Maybe not.

I have to admit that a small plastic card is easier than carrying around several pounds of gold coins.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

I was out one night, my heart pumping new blood, having a glass of wine when someone caught my attention. Some men were discussing floppy disks in one of those games where they remember their childhood.

“Is that a kind of Frisbee?” I asked. I do know what a Frisbee is. I have friends who have dogs. Dogs love to play with Frisbee disks. My friend Randolpho plays Frisbee Golf in the park with his odd friends.

One of the men laughed and said, “You Millennials are all alike.”

I am 675 years old a far cry from being a millennium old. A thousand years. Yes, it is creeping up on me but I do not look that old.

I asked my love Gillian if I looked ancient or worn out.

“Vlad you always look amazingly good,” she told me.

“Do I look like I am a thousand years old?” I asked.

“No Vlad, you look like you’re about thirty, maybe thirty-two at oldest. You could even pass for younger if you wanted to.”

“Then why,” I asked her, “why did someone call me a millennial?”

Gillian smiled the kind of smile she reserves for children, and for me when I say something wrong.

“Vlad,” she said, “a Millennial is someone born at the turn of the 21st Century. Someone born more or less between the years 1980 and 2000.”

“Have we come to this where we are judged by the years in which we were born. Is this some sort of sooth saying like those who read stars? I thought we were beyond that sort of thing in the 21st Century.”

“It has nothing to do with that. Society and technology changes so fast. Since the Baby Boomers each generation has had their own name.”

“Baby Boomers?” What fresh Hell was that? She did not answer. I think she was done with me. I still found this slightly confusing and somewhat annoying. “So I know nothing,” I said.

“You know more than you give yourself credit for my darling, sweet, precious Vampire,” she said and then kissed me. “There is hope. You are now by default part of the generation that will make things better.”

“Better than what?”

“I’m not sure yet, but they’ll do the right thing.”

I did not argue. I am a Millennial with the soul of an ancient relic. I can only attempt to learn and teach others to learn from the mistakes of history.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Today I learned that some people do what is called living off of the grid. That is without the Internet or many other modern marvels. They do not wish to be found or seen. They wish a simple time.

I lived in a simple time, but it was not all that simple. People smelled bad, which was awful for Vampires like me. Now our food smells a lot better.

I could go on and on. My point is that when life is good for people then life is good for Vampires. I shall be a crusader for social justice if that is what it would take for all Vampires to have safe and reliable blood sources. You see, I have the mind of a leader for my people, even though I am no longer King of Vampires.

Without the duties of a leader, aside from feeding my cats, I have few beings who depend on me anymore. It is lonely at times, even for a Vampire.

Only to you Dear Diary do I admit this because I am admitting it to just myself.

In the meantime I have made of list of things I must try to understand.

  1. The meaning of the word cute.
  2. Avocado toast.
  3. Fusion in reference to everything
  4. The Dark Web
  5. Bone Broth
  6. Soundcloud (that is thunder or maybe not)
  7. Beard wax
  8. Helicopter Parents
  9. Blue hair
  10. What is a Nickleback and why do people seem to despise it?

I should try to stop this torture in my brain and read a book or just turn on Netflix.

Netflix is something we did not have in my old Vampire castle. Maybe change is good. Like cats. Cats are good.

Cats are always good, no matter how old one is. Especially if one is a Vampire.

~ Vlad

 

Kissed by a Vampire

Kissed by a Vampire

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vlad’s Vampire Diary: Jingle Bells

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Dear Diary,

Today the rain comes down like tears of an old out of touch Vampire.

Losing three hundred years due to being locked up in a crypt has made me so confused about so many things. I have lost three centuries. Three fast centuries.

I arrived home after a night out with a sick friend. Yes, my existence as a Vampire in the 21st Century is much different than that of the 17th Century. That was the last century of my old life. How times have changed (that is a new modern expression.)

Last night while at the bar where I find a many of my dinner companions I noticed my friend Cassie, the owner of the establishment did not seem well. Upon taking her hand I could tell she was not altogether herself.

“Let me take you home. Your helpers can close for you,” I said to her ever so gently. She could not say no. After all I am a Vampire. I heard someone say “Cassie is getting lucky tonight.” I had no idea why they would say that about a sick woman.

I helped her into bed, then made her sleep. I sank my fangs into her wrist and took her blood, then took the illness out out of her body. Then I slept on her couch. When I woke Cassie was feeling better. She smiled and called me sweet. She did not taste me, so I am not sure what she meant by sweet but I will assume it was a compliment.

I drove home with the taste of her blood still in my mouth and a slight headache.

Next door, standing on the front porch of her home was young Kylee.

“Why are you standing out in the cold?” I asked her as she shivered like a frightened puppy.

“I carpooled to school and accidentally left my keys in the house.

I did not know what she meant by car pool and did not ask. I can not imagine driving a car into the water on a day already wet with rain. Taking pity on the girl I invited her into my home.

There I offered her tea and peeled an orange from the tree in my yard.

“Thanks,” she said taking the tea and sitting on a chair.

“Did you have classes today at the university?” I asked her.

“Community college. Yes, I had a final today in Economics. I aced it too. Woo Hoo. I’ll transfer to a UC in the fall. I’m not sure where yet. I applied for a bunch of schools. Irvine is my first choice, but I’ll accept Berkeley or Santa Barbara.”

“UC?”

“University of California. Where did you go to college Vlad?”

“Nowhere. There were no universities where I came from.”

Kylee’s eyes opened wide. “Really? Were you in a war zone or something?”

“It was something like a war zone at times. Only those who wished to have religious training went away. Those in my community did not seek out religious training.” I did not tell her that we were Vampires and it was three hundred years ago.

“Later, when I was older,” I did not tell her how much older, “I did visit some universities, but not as a full time student such as yourself.”

“Where are you from, originally?”

“Some called it the Tenebrosus Mountains.”

She looked at her phone and in lightning fast speed put in the name of my homeland. “It says here it doesn’t exist as a country anymore. It looks beautiful. Did you ever see this castle?”

She held up her phone and showed me the ruins of my once beautiful home. She continued to give me more information that I wanted. “It says that the castle belonged to  a Vampire King named Vlad who had the face of an angel.” She looked up at me. “That could be you. You have the face, but I can’t see you as a Vampire.”

“What could you see me as?” I asked young Kylee.

“I don’t know. But not a Vampire.” Then she laughed a long drawn out laugh that came straight from her belly. Then for reasons I do not know I started to laugh. We could not stop.

Kylee was a wealth of information about everything. She told me why Frosty the Snowman and I saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus were creepier than Baby it’s Cold Outside. Kylee thought it was weird that everyone sang Jingle Bells but nobody, absolutely nobody used a seligh with horses, and it never snowed where we live. She said so many Christmas songs were written in Hollywood but it never snowed their either. She told me the difference between Marxism and Socialism and Capitalism. She told me the difference between Emo music and Pop and Indie Rock. She said she was upset because of Global Warming and nasty old men who wanted to take away the right of young people with their religious dogma. She told me that French Roast coffee was just crappy beans that were burned to mask bad flavor. She said that her parents were weird but in a good way. She asked me if I was a feminist. I said yes, because I believe it has to do with women. I like women. Kylee said I was a good man.

It is not often a Vampire is called a good man to his face.

I had no idea what most of the things were that she spoke of but I enjoyed the joy of her youthfulness. Young Kylee will go far.

After Kaylee’s father came home, after she left, I pondered the thought of being a good man. I am a successful Vampire. Then I poured a goblet of blood and sat in front to the fire and pondered the idea of going to college. I do not know what I would major in.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

It is now December and there are tiny colored lights upon houses on my street. Each night like mushrooms more lights pop up.

I put up red and green lights all over the front of my house. While I was up upon the ladder, putting lights along the garage doors two women came by walking thier dogs. They smiled. I said hello. They greeted me back and said the lights looked good. As they walked away I could hear them giggle and say I was cute and had a nice ass. I did not put up a nativity scene so I do not know where they saw the ass. Nor did I know being upon a ladder was cute.

My mind suddenly went back to Yule season when I was young. The year was 1498. I was young then. Only 155, but old enough to be Vampire King and rule the people of the night and all the lands surrounding my castle and woods.

One day, on the first snow, as tradition called a young man was brought to me one night. He was an ordinary man of about 20 years, a gift from one of my loyal Vampire Knights. I bid my Knight leave us alone. My Knight was loyal but rather annoying.

The man looked around the room with the beautiful furnishings and polished wood floors. He glanced upon the large bed.

“I am not…I am here with my wife,” he said.

“Congratulations,” I said. “You are not here for the pleasures of the flesh. I am having you for dinner.” I smiled and stepped towards him. He looked into my face, a face with blue eyes, the beauty of a God, with a dimple to disarm any man or woman, surrounded by golden hair. “What is your name?” I asked quietly.

“David,” he said.

“David please sit,” I said. And he sat. I gave him no other choice. I looked into his eyes and made him sleep, the sleep of a trance of those who encounter Vampires. Then I sank my fangs into his neck and drank my fill. It was not enough to kill him, but enough to make him weak for a few hours. I searched his memories, then I gave him dreams of warm beaches and quiet waves on the sand. He had never seen such things. He would be confused by it later but that was not my problem.

I also saw in his mind that his wife was with child. At that time his wife was in another part of the castle with my wife. Yes, I had a wife. A wife I loved. I believed she loved me but I do not know if that was ever true. I do not know where she is now, if she is anywhere at all. I do not know if I am even still married to her. Our country, laws, and any records are no longer in existence so I will assume I am no longer married to the Vampire bitch. Even for a Vampire her heart was brittle and cold..

My wife was passionate, with a sharp mind, and a sharp temper. I loved everything about her, at least for the first hundred years or so. Sometimes I wonder where she is but I do not look for her. It is easy today to look on the Internet for a lost person, but not when looking for Vampires. We make sure we will not be found. Maybe she would be on the Dark Web. Maybe she is in Hell. One can only hope. What if I did find her? What would I do? The woman would no doubt rather come at me with a dagger and carve out my heart and eat it than say hello to me.

When David woke I sat with him and asked him of his life. David was an artist but he was tired of the old ways of painting. I told David that I would help him and his wife with child. What can I say? I am, what do they call it now, a softie, even then.

“Give me your wrist David,” I said. He slowly held out his arm. “I do not have all day,” I said taking his wrist with my hand. I sank my teeth into his wrist and drank his blood. I lifted my head, then caught a drop of blood on my finger, then put my finger in my mouth. David watched with wide eyes and no words.

“You know what I am David, do you not? I am a Vampire. I drink the blood of men to survive. I do not follow the rules of men or the rules of the universe that you know. I am the King of the people of the night. I have a proposition for you.”

David looked at me, his eyes growing large.

I continued, “My friend Randolpho’s good friend Raphael was planning on some large paintings, frescos, or something along those lines in the Vatican. Randolpho always had an affinity for religious places. Randolpho is always on the edge, always lurking around where he is not quite welcome. Always pretending to be something he is not. But are not all Vampires guilty of that?”

David and his woman Annalisa went to Italy and raised their children under the warm sun surrounded by fruit trees and love. He went to work for Raphael in the Vatican. Later David met another artist and called Michelangelo and posed for a statue of the Biblical David. The statue is in Florence. I understand it is quite famous.

I thought about Kylee. She is about the same age as David was. I believe Kylee lives a much more interesting life and will not be posing without her clothing on for all to see hundreds of years later.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Tonight my love Gillian came to my house and we decorated a Christmas tree with red glass balls, and small white lights.

I told her that my neighbors saw an ass in the neighborhood, and asked if she saw it on her way over.

“An ass, like a burro?” She asked.

“No not a hole, an ass,” I told her.

“An ass hole,” she said. Then she started to laugh and could not stop. I have learned not to ask questions when this happens.

They are grazing animals with hooves like small horses. They do not live in holes. Gillian knows that. I do not understand her at times.

I placed a golden star upon the top of the tree as Gillian looked on. Then I kissed her cold lips and told her that I loved her.

As the red and green light twinkled outside I knew I would make sure she would never waste her time kissing Santa Claus, or anyone else.

~ Vlad

 

Kissed by a Vampire

Kissed by a Vampire

 

Click here for all of Vlad’s Vampire Diary Adventures

 

 

 

 

 

Vlad’s Vampire Diary: My Undead Life

Kissed by a Vampire

Kissed by a Vampire

 

Dear Diary,

Today I had the shock of my undead life.

My good friend Randolpho invited me over for an evening of wine, blood, and maybe cards. Ranolpho also mentioned something about a horror movie he wanted me to see. I told him that horror movies bore me. He assured me that this one would not.

When I arrived at his home I knocked upon the door. Randolpho did not answer. I waited, then went inside. Most of the lights were off but I could hear the sound of a man’s voice. The voice was coming from the radio.

I stood listening to the broadcast, unable to believe what I was hearing. Creatures from another planet had attacked the Earth. Then it all came back. I was the Vampire King. I would now step out of retirement and lead my forces.

“Randolpho,” I called out to my friend. “We must gather the Vampires and lead the way against the aliens.”

Randolpho came out of the kitchen with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

“What are you talk about? Oh. THAT.” Then the bastard started to laugh. “That is War of the Worlds. I play it every year at this time. Oh my God. I can’t believe you thought it was real.”

Fooled again. “Do not laugh at my expense Randolpho, it will to end well,” I told him.

Then he told me the story of a radio broadcast eighty years ago that was based on a slightly older story written by a man called H.G. Wells.

Halloween season is going to kill me, and I am a Vampire. I do not understand any of it.

Later we watched a movie called, “Nightmare Before Christmas.”

I could, what do they call it, relate? I could relate to Jack.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Today I purchased pumpkins. Tomorrow the children will go out into the streets to ask for candy. The pumpkins are signals that they will find what they seek.

With a knife I hollowed out the pumpkins, then carved frightful faces. I laughed at my efforts. One looked like a ghoul with broken teeth. Another like a cat. A third was the face of a beautiful woman who would have eyes that blazed with the light of candles.

After I carved the pumpkins, with nothing to do since my dreams of regrouping a Vampire army fell through, I looked up the name Orson Wells.

He was the man who created the radio play War of the Worlds. Intrigued, I poured a glass of blood and watched the movie Citizen Kane. 

After it was over I sat in the dark for an hour and contemplated Rosebud. Maybe I have my own Rosebud that haunts me. I have an entire rose bush. Make that an entire rose garden.

Now I am even more confused. After three hundred years locked in a crypt nothing prepared me for Orson Wells. I am 675 years old and nothing prepared me for this.

~ Vlad.

 

Dear Diary,

Today is Halloween. It is the Day of the Dead.

As I was putting out my Jack-o-lantern pumpkins my neighbor was dragging her garbage can out to the street. It looked as though she had filled it with sand and gravel. I went over and helped her. It was nothing for me to take it out. Vampires are like that. She thanked me and said she liked my pumpkins.

“Those are pretty scary pumpkins Vlad,” she said to me.

“Do you think the are too scary for small children to see,” I asked.

“No, you can never be too scary. As long as they’re not pornographic they’ll be fine.”

I was not quite sure what she meant by “pornographic” and I did not ask.

When night fell children dressed as all manner of beings came to the door. I gave them all candy. They were very cute.

I could hear the mothers standing, waiting by the curb saying, “This is Vlad’s house. Oh my god, he is sooooooo cute. The man is hot.”

They did not know I could hear them, after all I am a Vampire so my hearing is exceptional. They smiled and waved. I smiled and waved back. Then they would giggle.

Cute. Small children in unicorn costumes are cute. How can I be cute? I am not a small child, or wearing sparkling costumes. I do not understand.

What I do understand is that they find me attractive. That is a good thing, even on Halloween.

After all of the tiny monsters had come to visit my door my love Gillian said, “Now it is time for us to go out. I have costumes.”

“I want to be Orson Wells,” I said, making a joke. Gillian did not laugh.

Gillian brought out clothes, now considered old fashioned.

“This is high fashion from the 1880’s. We’re going to be Vampires,” she said.

“We are already Vampires my love,” I said kissing her beautiful cold cheek.”Let’s stay in tonight.”

“Seriously Vlad, this is the one day of the year we can go out and show our fangs. Our REAL fangs. And I love the clothes. You’ll look so handsome.”

“I am already handsome. Ask anyone. I am also cute.” Another joke. She smiled.

“Come on, get changed.”

So we went out. Gillian in a purple and orange velvet dress with a large bustle, and I in a fine suit, with a purple vest, and a large top hat. Randolpho wears hats like that even now. He looks ridiculous, but that is another story.

We had a grand time out, with fangs out. It was a wonderful evening, scary, cute, and quite charming.

Yet, as we walked the streets where the nightlife was active and full of people in costumes I could not help but look at the night sky…to see if anyone, or anything was watching.

~ Vlad

Big Hat

Randolpho and his tall hat.

 

Wow, this is the 42nd posting of Vlad’s Vampire Diary. CLICK HERE to find all of the cuteness and general Vampire weirdness.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

 

Vlad’s Vampire Diary: Whispering

Dear Diary,

Jane the coyote with a Werewolf soul has left me. She curled up, fell asleep, and did not wake.

I stroked her cold still head feeling sad when my phone rang. I usually do not answer but this time I was drawn to the call.

“Hey, Vlad, it’s me, Jane. I found a human body. Just wanted to call and thank you for taking care of me when I was in transition,” a female voice said to me.

“What about the coyote? My coyote.”

“Her soul is long gone. I was just borrowing her body. Awwww Vlad, you’re so cute. Don’t be sad. I’m in a better place. Seriously, this woman was beautiful. I mean she still is. I never looked this good with my first body.”

“Did you kill her?”

“No. No way. She died and her soul left, so you know, I swooped in and started the old heart up again.”

“I see. How…”

“Long story. I don’t have time right now to explain. You know, places to be, people to see. I have a lot of catching up to do. So I’ll see you around Vlad. Thanks again for everything. Love ya. Bye.”

I looked at the coyote body so cold and now seeming small. I could not help but feel sad. I do not know why. Nor do I know why Jane said I was cute.

Jane the coyote was buried in my back yard. I planted a red rose-bush over her grave and covered it with river rocks. My cats watched me with solemn cat eyes then went to sleep on a deck chair.

Jane is no longer mine.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Tonight my love Gillian and I went out to find something entertaining to do. We cut through an alley where we heard someone laughing. Strange music came through an open door.

“I haven’t heard this forever. What’s up with the old music?”

“I do not know. Everything is new to me. ” Sometimes I still feel the urge to remind her that I was locked in a crypt for three hundred years and missed the Eighteenth through Twentith Centuries.

“I have a weird feeling about this,” she said and squeezed my arm.

This is the music if one could call it that. Gillian said they were playing a saw. I do not understand playing music with a tool. It sounded like something my cats would have written and played on bones and garden tools. If cats could write music and play bones and garden tools. I would not put it past them.

I later learned the song was called Whispering. It was popular in the 1920’s. I understand that was an extremely strange time when women stopped wearing so many clothes, cut their hair, and were allowed to vote. Vampires have always treated their women equally. I do not know what is wrong with people. Maybe it is the warm blood in their veins cooking their brains and making them stupid.

 

 

My love and I walked down narrow steps, ready to show our fangs and fight, or feast, depending on who or what we found at the bottom.

I thought of another time I walked into a tavern and experienced unexpected and dangerous consequences. This time I was determined not to let my guard down, after all I am the Vampire King.

At the bottom of the stairs a man in a striped double breasted suit greeted us.

“Welcome to Easy Street,” he said.

“Oh my goodness, this is right out of the 20’s,” said Gillian.

I, of course had no idea what she was talking about because I have no point of reference when it comes to most cultural references. My English is better than it was four years ago but everything else is still as confusing as Hell.

He led us into a bar where people danced to music with men in high voices, and it looked rather clean and sleek. Gillian called it Art Deco.

I looked around. “What is Deco?”

Gillian took my arm, “It is short for Arts Décoratifs. Decorative art. It came about right after the Art Nouveau movement, and of course the Arts and Crafts movement. I believe it came out of one of the oh so many World’s Fairs or expositions everyone used to have back then.”

I still had no idea what Gillian was talking about and kissed her cool cheek.

“With your pretty face you fit right in here. You could pass for someone out of The Great Gatsby,” Gillian said.

“I thought I was cute.”

“You’re more than cute, silly.”

“Now I am silly?” I didn’t ask her what the Great Gatsby was. I know it does not involve Vampires or I would have heard of it already. I doubted if I would want to be in it. Gatsby. That sounds like the noise my cat makes when she vomits.

We sat at the large bar, drank Gin Rickeys and spoke with other patrons about upcoming art shows at the museum and football. I have come to frequent the art museum. I have yet to understand the obsession with football. Football has all of the earmarks of a magnificent pageant with large violent men, screaming fans, and the thing I least understand, the scantily clad women dancing on the edge of the field, and regional territorial rites. One clan even wears cheese on their heads and sits in the cold to prove their faithfulness to their gods of the game. Now that I write it out I now, oh how do they say, I get it. I understand. But it is not a past time for a Vampire. I prefer Baseball or Basketball, or just rolling heads of my enemies around in the forest while on a horse…

As we talked and I looked for someone with nice veins in their wrists, I noticed the place was filling up. Everyone seemed to know everyone, except for Gillian and me.

The man who greeted us at the door, his name was Mel, said, “You gotta go. In about fifteen minutes this is gonna be no place for Vampires.”

“You know we are Vampires?” I asked.

“Sure I know. And in fifteen minutes I’m locking up the doors and everyone in here except you and your beautiful lady are going to turn into wolves. Tonight is a full moon man, and we’re all Werewolves. You know how it is. We lock up in here and don’t get into trouble. You have to go now. And hey, don’t get into any trouble yourselves. I know how Vampires are.”

Gillian and I left with fond farewells. This was one of the strangest experiences I have ever experienced. As we left I wondered if Jane would ever go there now. Gillian and I laughed about as we walked down the street to another place. It was a place we knew. It was a place without surprises and lovely warm blooded people who only had dogs as pets.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Tonight I drove to the mountains, to a cabin where I would seek out peace and reflect upon the night sky with an infinite number of stars.

Why did no one tell me that cats do not like to ride in cars? It makes no sense to me. I do not understand.

I put pillows and blankets the cats like in the back seat. Their favorite food was there. They had access to a view out of the windows. Boxes were on the floor for them to play in. There was even a littler box. They might have shown their appreciation to me.

Cats also do not like being harnessed or put attached to a leash.

Into the trunk of my car I put twelve bottles of blood to share, and twelve bottles of good red wine, plus my clothes. My two cats had the ENTIRE car, aside from the driver’s seat, to themselves. Did they thank me? No, they did not.

As soon as I backed out of my driveway onto the street my cats began to scream. It was not normal cat noises but the voices of demonic chanting. It was the voice of death. It was mournful yowling of the saddest kind.

Then one crawled upon my back and put her claws around my head, while the other ran around the car, jumping as if she had gone insane. Why did not a single person tell me that THIS is how cats behave in cars. I do not understand.

When I arrived to pick up my friend Randolpho, who would accompany me to the mountains, I was exhausted. Vampires are known for their endless energy but these cats, they had me worn out.

Randolpho just laughed at me. “Why didn’t you put them in cat carriers?”

“Cat carrier?”

“A box, a crate with a door, or even a soft sided bag made for transporting cats.”

“You jest,” I said.

“Vlad, did you really think the cats would like to ride in the car?”

“Yes, I did really think that Randolpho,” I said beginning to lose my patience with him, as well as the cats.

Randolpho put his gear in the trunk of the car and we drove to the mountains. The cats began to sing their demonic songs. I showed them my fangs. They yowled even more.

“Don’t show them your fangs,” said Randolpho. “Cats never forget or forgive.”

Then he grabbed a soft blanket from the back seat of the car and coaxed the cats onto his lap. I could not believe that after all I have done for them that my cats would sit quietly for Randolpho and yowl their heinous vile insulting songs at me.

“They’re just afraid Vlad. You can’t expect them to be like dogs and be happy with everything. They’re cats. You need to be gentle and whisper sweet things to them so that they’ll feel safe.”

I turned on the radio. It was not Whispering or any old music. As we drove higher in elevation, among the pine trees I looked for wolves. The moon was no longer full but I always look – just in case.

Trying to lighten up the mood I said, “In the old days we wold have brought up two or three people rather than bottles of blood. They would have been glad to come with us. Remember those times?”

Randolpho stroked a purring kitty and gave me a sideways glance. “Sure, back when we lived in your castle and you were the King. Not anymore. The kind of people who want to go to Vampire gatherings and get their blood sucked are weird.”

“What do you mean by weird?”

“Just weird. They’re Vampire wanna bees. And even if they don’t want to be Vampires they just creep me out. You know the whole subsurvant semi sexual servant master thing, but it’s more than that. They’re like groupies.”

“Groupies. What is groupies?”

“Followers. My point is that they’re strange. They get off on the idea of being our slaves and laying naked on a table for us to feast on and shit like that.”

“I see.”

“And they’re usually stupid and don’t live in the real world. It is all fantasy to them. They don’t get that we have to rake our leaves and clean out litter boxes just like everyone else.”

Sometimes Randolpho had an interesting ways to describe the world to me but I found myself more often than not agreeing with him.

Our friends greeted us at the cabin, which was not a cabin at all. A cabin is a hut like structure with a fire pit. This was a 4,000 square foot house with a dock on the lake. The cats gladly walked on their leashes into the house where they were met by adoring Vampires. After Randolpho and I unpacked our things I walked alone along the shore of the lake.

The air was cold. The sky with clear with an infinite number of stars. The moon was slightly deflated.

I thought about Jane and wondered where she was. I thought about my castle and my old life style which is now considered unacceptable. I thought about how I never imagined I would miss three centuries and end up in a world where I would be terrorizing cats in automobiles. I could not even imagined what an automobile was four years ago.

I thought about a song I’d heard on the radio.

There is much I do not understand. But now, I do understand that one should never take riding in cars with cats lightly.

~ Vlad

 

Kissed by a Vampire

Kissed by a Vampire

You’ve just finished reading the 41st installment of Vlad’s Vampire Diary. For the entire series, from the start CLICK HERE.

 

Vlad’s Vampire Diary: You Can’t Go Home Again

Dear Diary,

Going home is no longer an option.

This morning I went to Google Maps. There are cameras in space, up in the sky, in the heavens taking photographs of the Earth. Everything can be seen. I dare say unseen is what I wish today.

This thing called technology, baffles me. It amazes me. What amazes me the most is that all of this, which would have once been considered black magic is now not magic at all, AND it has almost all happened in the past one hundred years. It has happened in the past fifty years.

After being imprisoned in a crypt for three hundred years, I am still overwhelmed. The past four years… I can not even describe them.

This morning at dawn I stood out on my deck and looked at the sun coming up over the dark night sky. I thought about my old home where I was King of Vampires and all I could see. This morning I saw a flock of turkeys. Alas I am not even King of Turkeys now.

So inside I went to my MacBook Pro and to Google Maps and to my castle.

It was gone. My castle was not there. GONE. Not a trace. Just forest and meadows and NOTHING. All traces of my existence was gone. I looked up my name. Nothing but some Russian fool who rides horses and other animals without a shirt, and ridiculous laughable horror movies, and bad fan fiction. There is no trace or memory of me.

I picked up my phone (another unbelievable marvel of technology) and called my friend Randolpho. He said I had to look on the Dark Web to find information about real Vampires. I do not understand. I know that by web he does not mean a spider web but something of course we can not see. This new world and the language is confusing. Everything is called by a name that is indeed a tangled web of language. He said I needed a special server and spoke of other things I do not understand. Who is that special server and where do I find him? Will he serve only me or others as well? I did not risk asking Randolpho and seeing his eyes roll.

Yes, that is something people do now. They roll their eyes around in their heads as if to say, “you are ridiculous and have the mind of a child.” I have recently learned the term, “bless his heart,” means the same thing. Eye rolling. Bah.

I am forgotten. I am lost. I am new. I am frustrated.

I expressed this feeling to my love Gillian.

She said, “You’re so cute Vlad.” Then she kissed me. That is something no amount of technology can improve on.

So apparently I am cute as well. I do not understand this cute, but I will take her word for it. My advice to any male is to take a woman’s word on it, no matter what she says.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

I still mourn the loss of my former home and kingdom, but on the other hand I am glad it is gone and nobody else is living there in my place.

Tonight I walked around my new home. It is a 3,500 square foot home with what is called a good sized yard. There is plenty of room for me, the cats, Jane the coyote dog, and Gillian when she is here.

Gillian has claimed her own bathroom (there are four of them. FOUR.) With all of the tools and cosmetics at her disposal there is no need of a maid for her. When I first met her it took two hours for her to get ready in the morning. She had layers and layers of clothing. She had layers of hair. Cosmetics were complex and questionable. Now she jumps in the shower, blows her hair with hot air and lets it flow down her back, then she pulls on six items. Only six. Bra, panties, jeans, shirt, two shoes. That is all. Sometimes she wears a dress, but it is tiny and no slip, corset, underskirts, hoops, or pads are needed. It is just my beautiful Gillian’s natural shape that shows. She sometimes laughs and says it is easier to be a Vampire with fewer clothes.

Gillian also has taught me how to get blood stains out using magical chemicals and a machine that actually washes clothing. In my castle there were five women who washed my clothing, and only my clothing. There were a dozen more to do the job for the rest of the castle.

Yes, I can now wash clothing in secret, with my own private machine, without anyone knowing what I have been doing the night before. That is always a good thing.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

I was out tonight at my favorite night spot, where Vampires can sit among the crowd without anyone suspecting they are only there looking for a bit to eat in peace.

The bartender and owner, a lovely woman named Cassie, has become, shall I say, a friend.

Tonight she leaned against the bar facing me and asked me, “Where are you from Vlad? Originally? I can’t place your accent? Europe? South Africa?”

I smiled and took her hand, “Dear Cassie, where I come from no longer exists. Even if I could go home those who live there would not welcome me. I have found a home here, with those who are like me, in a new home with strangers. But strangers no more. I have you and others friends who are far better people than I knew before.”

“You can’t go home again. Sort of like the Thomas Wolfe novel. Have you read it?”

“No. Write it down. I will read it.”

“You seem sad,” she said.

“No, I am not sad. I am just feeling, what do you say, retrospective.” Then I smiled at her in a way that charms all who have warm blood in their veins. “I come from a place in Europe where the mountains are high and eagles still fly above the towering trees. I do not even know what country it is now. It does not matter. I am here in California. I will learn to ride a board on the waves. What is it called? Smurfing?”

“Surfing. It is surfing. Smurfs are small blue French people. Like annoying little dwarves and there’s only one girl.”

I had no idea what she was talking about. I just smiled and then scanned the room for someone with a nice neck and a healthy pulse.

Later with my veins full of fresh blood and my mind clear I went back to see Cassie. I gave her a kiss on her cheek and a hug. I closed my eyes feeling her heart beat.

“Thank you my dear Cassie for giving comfort to an old man.”

“Love you Vlad. HA! Old man my ass. What are you? Thirty-two, thirty-four?”

“Something like that,” I said as I kissed her cheek again. I would never tell her that I am 675 years old. I would never tell. It always confuses people, more than any technology can confuse an old Vampire like me.

As I left I could hear her tell the other bartender, “Damn, he is cute.”

I do not understand this cute. That I will never understand, but I will take it as a compliment from a friend.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

I woke in a cold sweat. I am a Vampire so I only have cold sweat. I had a nightmare about small blue Frenchmen. They smelled of garlic and blueberries. They sang songs in deep throaty voices about ripping out the heart of Vlad the Vampire King.

The door to my bedroom opened. My love Gillian came in. She was wearing an extremely small black dress. The dress fell to the floor, along with her bra and panties. That was three pieces of clothing. She had no shoes. Now she wore nothing but diamond studs in her ears.

She crawled into bed with me, putting her smooth cold arms around me. I put my arms around her and pulled her close as she skimmed her fangs across my neck, then put her lips to mine.

I closed my eyes, and saw blue men, screaming as the large waves covered them while the great white sharks ate them like teenage children eat Hot Cheetos.

Gillian took my face in her hands. “Are you ok Vlad?”

OK. That is another one of those words I do not understand. It means someone  or something is good, or not bad, or it could mean anything, or nothing.

“I am fine,” I said. “Just take my mind off of my mind. Make me forget.”

As always she did. And then some.

~ Vlad

 

Kissed by a Vampire

Kissed by a Vampire

You’ve just read the 40th entry of Vlad’s Vampire Diary. To start from the beginning, or read your favorites again click here. 

 

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman