Monsters in Love

vlad v

I love you. Juliette drew this.

While taking clothes out of the dryer I found a crisp folded piece of notepaper with a note, written with a red Sharpie.

Dear Garrett,
I don’t think you understand how you tear my heart apart. You don’t do anything. You just are. You drive me crazy. You act so cool and I know how you put on a mask. Everyday is Halloween for you.  Stop being so afraid of being yourself. I love you – you idiot.
Ione

Sigh. Seventeen year old Garrett has been writing love letters to girls since he was six years old.  Now girls are writing them to him too. He has known Ione almost his entire life but they just started dating last Spring. If they make it as a couple or not, I’m sure they’ll always be friends – I have a feeling they will (they’re both Vampires.)  So I put the note back in the pocket of his jeans and pretended I didn’t see it.

I went downstairs to find the kids watching the original Frankenstein movie. Wow, they were actually watching a black and white film.

My eyes moved to the TV where the Creature was just coming to life. The poor Creature made me think what would have happened if he’d found true love? What if all of the classic movie monsters had found love?

Monster Love Letters

Dear Creature,
May I call you Frank?  May I be frank? Your size and patchwork of parts might turn off some girls but I find you fascinating. I want to undo your stitches until I get to your heart.
xoxoxo
The girl with the white streak in her hair

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Dear Mummy,
Let me unwrap your heart. Let me unwind the hardened linen bandages that bind your love. Let me rub your hard dry skin with scented oil until you feel alive again. Let me take you in my arms and wrap my soul up in yours for an eternity.
Love, Daddy

______________________

Dear Wolfman,
You are the silver bullet in my heart.  Even a choke chain can’t keep me away from you.  Let me run my hands through your thick fur and scratch that sweet spot above your tail. I promise to bring the big box of Milk Bones.
Love, Daisy

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Dear Invisible Man,
You’re more than just a paycheck.
Love,
Your wife

___________________________

Dear Dr. Jekyll,
Stop hyding from me Mister. I want to see your dark side more often.
Love and kisses,
Candi

__________________________

Dear Dracula,
Bite me.
Love,
Lucy

____________________________

Lucy,
I’m tired of being pursued by sluts like you who cheat on their boyfriends. You took me to your bed when you knew another man was in love with you. Shame on you. Tell the same to that little trollop Mina.  And tell Jonathan that Mina isn’t as innocent as she acts.
Drop dead,
Dracula

______________________

Dear Creature from the Black Lagoon,
Let me be your Ester Williams, your mermaid, your gold fish girl! When I scream it isn’t in fear but in love – like screaming for a rock star. You’re my underwater Elvis. You’re my Puffer Daddy. You’re top on the “scale.” Oh kiss me fish lips and let me hold your webbed hand all night long.
Love, Ariel

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Dear Dr. Caligari
This crazy love, like the Poco song that keeps going through my brain. My world upside down and at a slant when I’m with you like some weird German modernist film. What happened to that wonderful German film industry, oh cut off by tyrants, the style that now only you seem to hold? But wait, my mind wonders because it is so confused by lack of sleep and hopes of love and freedom. I’m tired of sleeping. I’m tried of being in a box. I’m tired of the confines of my cell. I’m tired of being creepy. Please let me go and leave this horror of your world and find love. Love that lives in the world of day and those who are awake without fear of death or heart break. You’ve said that love will be my end but I will take my chances and die for love like Jane and Alan. Let me have my own unique and fantastic sense of modernist style and find my own true love to share it with. Considering everything I’ve done for you it is the least you can do.
Your servant, Cesare

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Love is in the air, in our souls, in our hearts, and in our words. Express your love. Remember if you don’t the answer will always be no.

This was first posted here in 2013.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Happy Birthday Bela Lugosi

Béla Ferenc Dezső Blaskó (20 October 1882 – 16 August 1956),

October 20! Happy Birthday Bela Lugosi

Bite Me!

He is best known for his starring role in Dracula, but this Vampires favorite Bela Lugosi movie is the 1945 film The Body Snatcher with Boris Karloff. Now THAT is a great movie. And creeeeeeeeeepy.

 

Have fun and wishing everyone born in October a Happy Birthday.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Bela by Jason Kemp

Bela by Jason Kemp

Vampire Diary: Modern Technology

Dear Diary,

The cat came home wet and covered with mud. I am not amused.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

I find that after one has been sealed in a crypt, against his will, for three hundred years, one has time to think. I thought many things during those three centuries sealed in a crypt with a knife through my heart.

That is literally a knife, not figuratively like the rejection of a lover. I was the Vampire King the rejection of a lover was not something that was possible.

After being rescued after three hundred years in captivity I find myself in a world full of wonders and confusion. I quickly took to automobiles. I have both electric and gas powered automobiles. Yet I have found that electricity makes it both easier and more difficult for the tasks involved in being a Vampire. Light at the touch of a switch can ruin any meal.

Last night I was in a dark corner, my fangs sinking into the neck of my dinner companion when suddenly there were lights. Someone yelled, “I found a Vaporeon, oh crap, shit, sorry. I didn’t know you two…”

I looked up, blood dripping from my chin. I never drip blood. Holding up my hand I whispered for them to turn and forget what they saw. The memories were erased from their minds.

Electricity. What is the saying they say about being damned if you do our you do not? Damned if you are a Vampire caught sucking blood from the necks of unsuspecting hipsters. I like that word hipster. It makes me smile with thoughts of humor.

~ Vlad

 

 

Dear Diary,

I have gone unnoticed in history. I am a Vampire so I should not be surprised. We keep our histories to ourselves, or hide our true selves.

When I was out tonight a group of young women caught my attention. They came to me like moths to flames, or more like small children to candy. Seduction is easy when one is a Vampire.

They told me that I am cute. I still do not understand this cute. Cats are cute. Babies are cute. I am not a cat or a baby. One said I was gorgeous. That I understand. That young woman, she is called Heather, speaks the truth.

One of the women asked if I was Russian and mentioned Vladimir Putin. They said he was not so cute. Of course he is not cute. Being called Vlad does not automatically make one cute. Then they giggled (I never understood the excessive giggling of young women) and mentioned Vlad the Impaler. I am not Russian or an impaler.

Oh the bane of my modern existence is this man Vlad the Impaler whom I consider an imposter. There is NOTHING cute about Vlad III, Prince of Wallachia, otherwise sometimes said to have inspired the fictional Dracula. The man sold his soul but was no Vampire.

“That Vlad was not cute,” I said to the women. They giggled. I did, what do they say…I scored big time.

I could have told the young women about the cruelties he inflicted on women and children, but cooking them alive and forcing their families to eat them. I could have told them the things he did to the wives of the men he hated, but I did not.

I would rather seduce a population than rule them in fear. Maybe that is what they mean by cute. No, maybe not. On the other hand, that is exactly what cats do. Cats are cute. Maybe.

I remember when I first heard word of Vlad the Impaler. My Baba told me about him and said I must be careful. I told her, “Baba, I’ve been Vampire King for over two hundred years, I know what I am doing. He will not bring fear upon the hearts of my people.”

Baba said, “Grandson, you must watch, not just in the shadows, but in the light. Watch for those who are not only powerful, but watch for those who rule with fear and malice. You rule with power and the seduction of a Vampire. Those outside of your rule fear you. Never let those who live under your protection live in fear of you.”

Vlad the Impaler was killed by a rival and buried in an unmarked grave. He was no Vampire. The world has not changed in so many ways. Technology abounds yet humans still prove themselves to be stupid and cruel. Humans prove they are sheep who follow a lead, only to find themselves being eaten alive.

After I’d had my fill of blood, at the home of one of the women, I walked to my car, thinking about this strange world I woke up in.

I closed my eyes and thought of the warm skin of one of the girls on my lips, and her hot hands on my body, and I wondered if she could also be considered cute. She was beautiful, but empty in the way so many young girls are. One day she will find wisdom through experience, and that will be even a more delicious night.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

I imagine what my Baba would think of this new world I have found myself in. I remember her bringing me a cup of warm blood and singing me songs of night. Even when I was a grown man she was there with stories of great Vampire Kings of the past, and the time when she was almost a Vampire Queen. I told her that she would always be my Queen. Baba would pat me on the head and smile showing her magnificent fangs. Then she would call me good boy and tell me to drink my blood.

Tonight my lover Gillian came to my house. She is the stars in my sky. She is the key to the universe. Gillian understands technology, as I would have if I had not been locked up for so many years.

When she kissed me I could taste blood on her lips. “You have already eaten,” I said.

She smiled and kissed my neck. “Just a snack.”

I love that woman.

Driving an automobile came easy to me. That was never a problem. Gillian helped me master the television remote, all of those apple things which are not fruits, and power tools. I find power tools quite exciting, especially the chain saw and the belt sander.

I also like the blow dryer on my golden locks. I feel the power of the hot air going through my hair as if I have harnessed the great winds coming down from the sky at my beck and call. One must get thrills where he can if one is no longer King of the Vampires.

And there are closets in houses. Closets are the best thing of all.

After a night out with Gillian I found myself in her arms, not wanting her to ever leave. I find that love has changed over the centuries as well, even among Vampires.

“Move in with me,” I told her. “This house is large with a lot of closets.”

She pulled me closer. “Are closets all you have to offer?”

“I will show you what I have to offer,” I told her.

No need to write more.

~ Vlad

 

 

Kissed by a Vampire

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Famous Monsters

Everybody loves monsters – and nobody loved them more than Forest Ackerman editor of Famous Monsters of Filmland Magazine. You gotta love the artwork on these covers. My absolute favorite is #130 with Peter Cushing as Van Helsing. It is absolutely stunning. Enjoy.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

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2016-04-05 12.50.582016-04-05 12.52.07Vlad to see you. Vampire thrills for everyone! Cheap thrills too.IMG_3016

2016-04-06 17.27.362016-04-06 17.26.482016-04-05 16.24.442016-04-05 12.52.322016-04-05 13.41.552016-04-05 16.24.052016-04-05 16.23.342016-04-05 16.23.222016-04-05 13.42.282016-04-05 15.40.002016-04-05 13.42.062016-04-05 13.43.26

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2016-04-06 17.26.59

 

 

Warhol, Udo, Vampires, Teddy, A Couple of Teens, and Me

I was at an Andy Warhol exhibit today and saw a Polaroid photo of a Vampire. Well, a guy dressed like a Vampire. You know what I mean.

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From there I had to explain to the teenagers I was with all about Warhol’s Blood for Dracula and the handsome as can be Udo Kier. Lots of blood in that one. Lots and lots of blood.

Udo

Udo is beautiful isn’t he.

Frankenstein was great too. Wow. It has been years since I’ve seen his movies.

We went into a room called “The Factory,” where a lot of hipsters and yuppies were all playing around with colored pencils and cute stencils.

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I drew something. The teenagers laughed out loud. And I left it there.

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Later my husband said, “Jesus, Juliette, somebody is going to see that and be traumatized for life.” Maybe.

I looked at my darling husband Teddy and said, “My favorite was the portrait of Prince. He is almost as pretty as you are. In fact you’re prettier than Udo Kier.”

“Good to know,” said Teddy. “Maybe I’ll get cast for the next season of Penny Dreadful. But you know if we move to Alaska we could have our own show. Everyone in Alaska has their own show. We could be Alaskan Vampires.”

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We had a lovely day. Our young teenage friend, who is also as pretty as Prince, had a beautiful drawing in a student exhibit at the museum. I was so proud of him. Warhol was great.

I told the kids to remember that art museums are my churches. That is where I have my religious experiences.

Oh so much more happened and I thought of so much more, but I’m just out of words tonight.  So you just got the silly stuff.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

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Vampire Diary: Old Dogs, New Tricks, and Politics

Dear Diary,

Tonight I watched the film called Dracula. The cats sat on the chair with me and purred. They have no concept of movies or truth. They are cats.

It was without color and considered old. The year it was made was 1931. The actor was named Bela Lugosi. His accent was like mine, at least from the same regions of Europe.

The story was strange, but no stranger than some reality.

THIS is where they get their information from about Vampires. I have no words. None. THIS is why Vampires drink.

~ Vlad

_________________

Dear Diary,

At dusk I walked from my house down the street to my mailbox. The two cats who live with me followed behind me singing the songs of their people.

At the mailbox I was greeted by one of my neighbors, a beautiful teenage girl called Paris. With her was a large old brown and white dog of unknown lineage. The dog is called Hamish. Paris tells people he is a Haggis Hound. Even I have to smile at her joke.

Hamish and my cats touch noses but do not chase or growl. They accept each other in mellow disinterest.

Trying to fit in and be what they call “nice” I asked Paris, “So what is up with you today?”

I adjusted my accent so that I would sound more American. I did not want her to hear “Zo Vat ieees up vith you toooooday?” I sounded like, “So what is up with you today?”

She said, “I’m feeling the Bern. My friend and I are working the phone bank for Bernie Sanders.”

“Phone bank? What is that?” I asked, because I do not know what that is.

“We’re going to call people and ask them who they are voting for. Just Democrats. If they say Bernie we say thanks and direct them to the web site, and ask them if they are interested in volunteering. If they say no, or Hillary we say thanks and don’t forget to vote. It is more of a survey.”

“I see,” I said but still not sure.

“If Bernie wins he’ll be the first Jewish president. If Hillary wins she’ll be the first woman. If Cruise wins he’ll be the first Canadian.” Then she laughed.

“A Jew would be president? That would happen?”

“Sure. His wife is Catholic. Nobody cares. He doesn’t bring religion into it. Nobody needs that in government. Freedom of religion and separation of church and state and all that.”

“That is amazing,” I said, remembering times when people were put to death for marrying out of their faith. I understand some still are. “There was a time when that would have not happened.”

“Did you grow up Communist?” She asked me that is a quiet voice as if she was asking me if I had a medical problem.

That question was unexpected. I had been sealed in a crypt for three hundred years and missed the Communist movement.

“No,” I told her. “I was not part of that. I lived in relative isolation at the time untouched by the rest of the world. Maybe that is why I ask so many questions.”

Beautiful Paris, the girl named after the city, tells me what she thinks of all of the people who wish to be the president. She is full of frightening facts and interesting opinions. This woman child will one day be powerful. Now she supports the old man, but one day she might be the one who is as they say putting her hat into the race.

She made a comment that someone looked like a Vampire. She said she saw a “meme.” I am still learning these meme things.

“There are worse things out there than Vampires,” I told her.

“And some of them are running for president too,” she said with a frown on her face.

Things were easier and less confusing when I was Vampire King. Nobody worried about who was in charge.

~ Vlad

__________________

Dear Diary,

Tonight I went out among the population. At a club in the downtown section of town a band was playing. The music was loud. The women were beautiful and friendly. It was a perfect night to be a Vampire.

They told me I was cute. This cute is a thing I am still not used to.

I listened to the people talking about the politics just as Paris had, but also talking of different names. I heard talk of work. I heard talk of romance. They talked of all things, and I listened with concern and interest ready to make a move.

After several hours I had my fill of blood and good cheer. I was feeling cold and calm and headed towards my car.

As soon as I retrieved my keys from my pocket five men surrounded me. They carried crosses and garlic, and stakes of wood, and guns. Like Paris the teenager I almost rolled my eyes. They called me a “Prince of Darkness” and other unsavory names.  In my head I quickly calculated a plan. There were five of them and only one of me, but I am not a “Prince of Darkness,” I am the Vampire King.

Then from out of the dark a growl like a wolf from Hell blasted into the night. A beast half man and half wolf attacked the Vampire Hunters. He tore clothing and flesh with his massive canine fangs and claws. I stood back and watched the fight.

Then the Vampire Hunters ran, carrying their injured comrades.

I looked into the face of the man, a middle-aged man, still with wolf ears and hair on the sides of his face, and on the tops of his almost claw like hands. White hair streaked through his brown hair at his temples.  “Who are you?” I asked.

He looked at me with humor in his brown eyes and said, “My name is Hamish. You know me Vlad.” Then he laughed with a low deep growl to his voice.

Yes indeed. I did know him.

~ Vlad

 

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