Vlad’s Vampire Diary: Man of Steel

Dear Diary,

My friend Randolpho and I decided to watch a movie. After being locked in a crypt for three hundred years I find that movies are one of the more pleasant and entertaining things about modern life.

I looked at the guide on the cable TV to find a movie.

“What is this Man of Steel. Is it about a robot?” I asked Randolpho.

“Robot?” He looked surprised.

“Yes, a man made of steel or metal. A machine man.”

“No.”

“Then it must be a pornography movie?”

“Pornography?”

“Yes, Randolpho, when people take their clothing off in front of the camera and…”

“I know what pornography is,” said Randolpho acting somewhat defensive.

“Explain Man of Steel.”

“No. Jeeze Vlad. It isn’t that. Man of Steel is about Superman.”

“Who is Superman? Wait, I read a book. A man who called himself a philosopher. His name was Nietzsche. He thought about an  Übermensch, a superman.”

“You read that? What did you think?”

“Nietzsche was what you call a dick. Or at least most women I know would have called him a dick. That is the term that women use. Dick. Maybe he should have been a pornography man rather than a philosopher. You know because he was just a big dick.” Then I laughed at my joke. Randolpho was not amused. “Randolpho my friend, I also read a play called Man and Superman by a man called Shaw. It was an extremely sexist view of how a woman should choose a mate, and she of course, in the ways of the time, picked the man old enough to be her father. I found it curious and somewhat amusing but disturbing to think a woman had so few choices. They are obviously not Vampires.”

“You read all of that?”

“I was locked in a crypt for three hundred years. I have been trying to catch up on my reading. So who is this Superman you speak of who is made of steel?”

“Just about the most famous comic book super hero of all time.”

“Why is he so famous? What is his story?”

So Randolpho gave me a pile of old comic books to read. I had some questions. Why Superman pretend to be Clark Kent? Why did nobody recognize him when he put on glasses, changed his hair part, and put on a suit? Why was Lois Lane so obsessed with him? She was not a smart woman as she was unable to tell when Clark was wearing a costume, or was it Superman wearing a costume. It was confusing. Why was Lex Luthor so difficult? Then again, he would have made an ideal politician. The American capitol called DC is full of Lex Luthors. Is that why it is called DC Comics? Why were Superman’s parents so old? Where did they find someone to forge a birth certificate for him?

“So he puts on a leotard, tights, and a cape and rescues women and children from harm by lifting cars and fighting bad men.” I said.

“Yes,” said Randolpho.

“Does he shave his legs before he puts on his tights?”

“Of course not Vlad.”

“It will not look smooth. Why does he not wear pants?”

“Vlad.”

“Why not let the police do their jobs?”

“It isn’t as fun that way.”

“Why should it be fun? I know from experience that finding bad people and disposing of them can be satisfying in a perverse sort of way but it is never truly fun.”

“It is just a story.” Then Randolpho rolled his eyes.

“Why do you roll your eyes? I would never be involved with a woman as silly or stupid as Lois. I should hope you would not be either. Most people do not know I am a Vampire but I do not wear a silly costume when I go out to find blood and engage in other Vampire activities.”

I do not understand this Superhero concept. I have seen the movie Guardians of the Galaxy. Randolpho told me it was a superhero movie. I thought it was about a man and his raccoon and a tree. I found it highly amusing. The green woman was not an idiot. I also liked the music, though I do not know why.

~ Vlad

Dear Diary,

Tonight I turned on the TV, which can be quite addictive, and saw something on the History Channel called The World’s Strongest Man. These were not Super Heroes. They were just large friendly men who lifted and pushed extremely heavy objects. They did not wear tights or capes. They wore flannel jackets and knit caps. Some of them had beards.

Then I wondered why the History Channel is called that. There is little history shown on it. So much for catching up on my lost three centuries.

Tonight I went out into the night alone. As I walked down the city street I could hear women as they sat together on sidewalk seats in front of restaurants and clubs say, oh my God he is so cute.

I am never sure what they mean by cute. I have yet to understand the full meaning of that term. Also, the calling out to God confuses me. Women use that call out a lot when I am around. I am a Vampire, not an angel, or some man wearing the robes of a religious order. They also say oh my God at the most private and inopportune times. I do not understand.

After getting my fill of fresh blood from lovely women who kept saying Oh My God, I walked down the street and took a short cut through a narrow alley. The alley smelled vile but not as vile as the alleys in the 16th and 17th Centuries, and not even close to the vileness of the 14th and 15th centuries.

I was briefly distracted by a mural painting on one of the buildings in the alley. It was of giant flowers and a woman in a flowing yellow dress. When I glanced back up in front of my at the end of the alley were two large men. They were as large as the men on The History Channel, but not wearing flannel. I glanced behind me and saw three more large men behind me.

I am not small at five feet and ten inches tall, but I am not huge either. As the large men approached me I saw the objects in their hands and realized they were Vampire Hunters. It was quite inconvenient. I had no desire to take on a fight after such a lovely evening with women who kept saying oh my God and calling me cute.

Over the centuries I have noticed that Vampire Hunters have not evolved. They are still as ignorant about Vampires as they were back when I was born some 675 years ago.

“Take your last breath Vampire,” one of them yelled at me.

“Dear hunters,” I said. “Can we not settle this like gentlemen, and not as adversaries. I mean you no harm. In fact…”

“Die Vampire die,” they shouted. Now I know enough after staying up late for the past five years that this was the kind of line that was used in dreadfully bad movies about Vampires.

“According to your lore I am already dead, so what is the point?” I said.

As I talked I used a soothing voice. I used a seductive voice of a Vampire King, the king that I am, the Vampire song that slays the foulest of men who wish us harm.

“You need to go now before I do you harm. Forget your mission to do harm to Vampires. We have no ill will towards you.”

I locked my eyes with the leader and he started to howl with pain. As he fell to the ground the other charged me. I would describe the rest of the time in the alley, but I will not. At the end of it all they were all sitting on the ground holding their heads and moaning oh my God.

Oh my God. I do not understand the use of this term. It is said for everything.

Later that night with my Vampire lover Gillian I told her of it all.

“Now who is a super hero?” she said.

I kissed her and said, “Yes, I will show you what it means to be the man of steel.”

And I did.

~ Vlad

Kissed by a Vampire

Kissed by a Vampire

 To read Vlad’s Vampire Diary from the beginning CLICK HERE.

Vlad’s Vampire Diary: April’s Fool

Dear Diary,

After being locked in a crypt for three hundred years my friends have told me many things to watch out for.

  • Do not talk to anyone who says they are tax men.
  • Nigerian banks are not real.
  • Do not take up smoking.
  • Do not listen to those who say the Earth is flat, and that men never walked on the moon.

The list goes on and it is ridiculous that obvious absurdities are not legitimate business or true. I was away for a while but I did not come back with the mind of a child.

I do not understand many things but I am not an idiot.

So this morning my friend Randolpho, whom I have known for over six hundred years  came to my house and said, “I have to show you something.”

“Then show me,” I said.

He put out his hand and there on his palm were two fangs.

“What is this?” I asked.

“I am no longer a Vampire,” Randolpho said.

I asked him how such a thing could have happened. He told me that he went to meet friends the night before and while walking down the street was pulled into a basement and injected with a powerful drug. It burned through his body. He thought was on fire. The he passed out. When he awoke in the morning his skin was warm, and his fangs had fallen out. He was hungry for real food, like bagels, and cake, and things Vampires do not eat. He said he felt suddenly vulnerable and fragile.

“The drug I was given turned me into a normal person. Vlad I am no longer a Vampire.”

“Do you wish me turn you back into a Vampire?” I asked.

“Are you not curious about the drug?” Asked Randolpho.

“Of course I am,” I said, “but I am more concerned by your well being.”

Then he laughed and yelled, “April Fool.”

I looked around and did not see anyone. “Why are you laughing Randolpho?”

“It is April 1st. April Fools Day! It is a day for jokes.”

“Not being a Vampire is no joke,” I said.

“I fooled you didn’t I?” Randolpho laughed again.

“Stop laughing'” I said, “or I will find a Witch to turn you into a baboon.”

“I can’t believe you fell for that Vlad,” he said, still laughing.

“I am serious,” I told him, “I will have you turned into a baboon.”

I wonder if Witches have Yelp pages.

~ Vlad

 

 

Dear Diary,

The morning has passed and I long for the night. Afternoon rain is coming down and making me feel calm after Randolpho’s incessant joking.

My love Gillian came to my house.

As I let her through the door I said, “Please, Gillian, no fooling around today. I have had enough of that.”

“Fine,” she said then turned to walk out the door.

“What?” I asked.

“What do you mean what? What is up your ass today?”

“April Fool Day,” I told her, then I told her that nothing was up my ass. Then I told her about Randolpho’s prank.

“So I can stay?”

“Of course,” I said. Then I kissed her. No fooling. I am dead serious. No pun intended.

I will leave the rest to your imagination.

~ Vlad

Kissed by a Vampire

Kissed by a Vampire

This has been the 47th entry of Vlad’s Vampire Diary. Click Here to read Vlad’s diary from the beginning.

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

 

 

Vampire Diary: Protecting the Cuteness

Vlad’s Vampire Diary #35, Protecting the Cuteness

 

Dear Diary,

This afternoon I was awakened by the sound of the doorbell.

My neighbor, a woman named Casandra, stood at my door with panic in her eyes.

“Vlad, are you free for a few hours?”

I escaped after being locked up in a crypt for three hundred years, then found out I was no longer Vampire King. Of course I can be free for a few hours.

I smiled, ran my hands through my thick golden hair and said, “Casandra, you look distressed. What can I do for you?”

She told me that her five year old boy, a lad named Lucas had fallen on the playground and broken his arm. I was asked if I could watch her four month old son Trevor. Of course I could. What else was I doing? I am a former Vampire King who has not decided what to do with myself aside from observing this confusing modern world, and writing in my diary.

Cassandra works from her home and only, as she tells me, has part time daycare. Her husband was out of town on business she told me. I have been around babies. I could do this.

I went two houses down and went inside, where Cassandra showed me where all of Trevor’s food, diapers, and other gear was. Modern babies have an overwhelming amount of gear.

Trevor smiled when he saw me. Cassandra gave me a hug, then said, “You’re cold. Do you want me to turn up the heat?”

I told her that I was fine. I did not tell her that I am a Vampire, therefore always cold.

Trevor was in his crib. I held out my hands and he grabbed my index fingers. One in each hand.

“There was a time when a baby boy like you would have been served up on a silver platter by some Vampires. You would have been a delicacy. You are a lucky boy young Trevor,” I said to the tiny child.

He laughed.

I pulled my hands up, Trevor hung on but his head fell back. His tiny neck was unable to support his massive baby head. I put my hand under his head to support it. He laughed. I laughed.

Here we are together, two males, bonding in our cuteness.

He laughed again then looked into my eyes and said “blee eeebub.”

I laughed. “Ahhhh you want me to tell you a story do you? Then you shall have one,” I said to him.

“Dear Trevor. Once upon a time there was a baby. She was cute. More cute than me. More cute than you. She was more cute than a puppy or a kitten. She was, what shall I call it, universal cute. No baby had ever been more precious, at least until you were born.

One night, when her parents were asleep a Vampire came in through the window of their villa and took the cute baby girl. The Vampire was on the way to a party and said to his hose that he would bring an appetizer. It was like that big game, the Super Bowl, where people get together to watch sport and eat and drink until they fall asleep. He put the cute baby upon a large sterling platter, not into a super sized bowl, and took her to the party.

Everyone at the party ran their tongues over their fangs, ready to feast upon the baby. But this baby, this tiny cute baby, who was cute beyond cute, this baby who was almost as cute as you are cute, caught the eye of a handsome Vampire named Wydo. He was a prince. Yes, my young toothless friend, Wydo was a Vampire prince.

Wydo was enchanted with the child, not because she was so very cute, but because he knew she would one day be able to control everyone she saw, including even a Vampire King.

Wydo demanded that dancing dwarfs come into the hall and do gymnastics, and then fighting games for the crowd of Vampires. There were no dwarves, for they had been drained of their blood earlier in the day, so musicians, who were alive, were brought in. Then the Vampires danced. Wydo went into a dark stairwell and summoned Demons to come in the guise of beautiful maidens full of blood and distract the other Vampire.

Then do you know what Wydo did? I bet you do know what he did smart baby Trevor. Wydo wrapped the baby girl in his cloak and stole her away in the darkness of the night.

And did Wydo drink her blood. No he did not. He brought her back to her parents home. Seventeen years later he turned her into a Vampire. Do not be shocked my little one, it was her idea.

Another thing you might not have guessed yet was the fact that Wydo was my grandfather.

Several years later, about fifty years later, she became my first wife. We were both Vampires and of the same age. It seemed like a perfect match. But then she tore out my heart. She stabbed me in the back. She left me. She left me alone. She did not physically tear out my heart. She broke it. Badly, in the worst way a woman can break a man’s heart.”

I stood in the middle of the room bouncing a baby, and thought my heart was going to explode. As empty as my heart was of blood, I felt like it was empty of everything else. It was not a feeling of cute. It was a feeling of pain.

Then the baby Trevor laughed. I laughed and showed him my fangs. He laughed even harder, and so did I. The pain in my heart stopped.

I told him more stories of adventures, with gore and death, and large hungry carnivores animals. As long as Trevor laughed I told him stories of my life.

“Do not marry a bitch,” I said to Trevor. “Make sure she is warm like you, even if she is a Vampire.”

Trevor laughed his cute baby laugh and I was once again  at peace.

A few hours later, after it was dark and I sat on a leather couch which was the color of blood, Cassandra came home with the child Lucas. A green plaster cast was on the child’s arm. His fingers stood out. He looked as if he was in pain.

I touched his fingers. “You are a brave young man,” I said. I did not flinch as I took the pain away from his broken bone. He smiled at me, then his mother took him to bed.

I handed Cassandra the baby Trevor. He reached out his tiny arms and practically fell at her.

“Oh I could just eat you up,” said his mother as she kissed his cheeks.

Me too I thought.

Then she looked right at me and said, “You and Trevor are so cute together.”

Sigh. I was once the Vampire King and now I am a cute guy who watches babies who are also cute. This is a confusing world in which I exist. I also changed Trevor’s diaper, not once but three times, and I fed him breast milk his mother had pumped earlier. I am indeed a good friend to have around.

“With Brad out of town I don’t know how I’m going to sleep,” said Casandra.

“I can help you,” I said.

Once Cassandra was in a trance, and less a pint of blood, she slept. I made sure she had sweet dreams of her boys growing up to be strong men, like Vampires of old, but not so much as to scare her, and not Vampires.

I walked home thinking about my former wife. I must stop doing that. Not stop walking home. Stop thinking of my former wife. The bitch.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

I lay in bed in the arms of my betrothed, Gillian. Her head is on my chest. Her arms are wrapped around me. She is as still and cool as marble. If she was not a Vampire I would think she was dead.

The two cats lay curled at our feet, hot and vibrating.

Jane the coyote lays curled at the foot of the bed on a blanket Gillian gave her.

I feel loved.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Oh the number of hearts I have broken over the centuries. Thousands. Maybe more. My capacity for breaking hearts is vast.

I was sitting in my favorite chair, with two cats attempting to keep my lap warm, when my love Gillian came home.

“I would stand but the cats would be so sad,” I told her with a smile, and held out my hand to her. “What brings you home so early? How was the Spa Night with your friends. You do not look relaxed my love.”

“It was weird and horrible even for people like us,” she said. By “us” she was speaking of Vampires, or at least I assume that. She then continued. “First They put something on my hair that smelled like dried cow patties. I went to the ladies room and washed it out of my hair. After that it was time for facials.”

“Cow patty? They put hamburgers on your face?” I asked.

“No Vlad. Oh you have missed a lot during your time in the crypt. A cow patty is a large dried cow poop.”

“My darling, how vile. How was the facial?”

“Worse than the cow pattie part.  I was told to lay back and relax as someone rubbed salmon oil on my face. If that wasn’t horrible enough, cats were then brought in to lick it off of our faces.”

“Cats? Why cats?” I asked.

“I was told it was the latest thing in natural skin care. The cat’s tongues exfoliate the skin. Bull shit.”

“Cow patties again?”

“No Vlad, bull shit is an expression for something that isn’t true. I don’t know where it came from. Please don’t ask me to explain. But damned if I was going to let some cat lick salmon oil off of my face. Darling I’m not going to kiss you or even come near you. I smell like a garbage can. I have to take a shower. I’ll be back in a bit.”

I watched my poor dear walk up the stairs, then went back to my pondering.

I’d heard of women centuries ago who would use the blood of virgins to try to make themselves beautiful.  That never worked. Oh the crazy things that vanity makes people do. On the other hand I appreciate the efforts that women take to make themselves appealing, and beautiful. Dare I say cute? Yes, even cute.

As a male I find it fascinating, horrifying, and completely confusing and mysterious. I would be maybe too bold to also say I find it cute.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Today is Saint Valentine’s Day.

Last night Gillian said I am more cute than the one called Timberlake. I rolled my eyes at her and it made her laugh. Then she said she was still on the fence about the one who rides the board called Shawn White. Then she explained to me about this Shawn White. Then we watched the Olympic game coverage.

I know it was a joke Gillian was making but I was impressed and amused beyond words.

I love that woman.

I will now learn to ride a snow board.

But for now I will ride… excuse me, I will make love to Gillian. Maybe she’ll give me a high score. And I find myself with three gold medals! See I can find humor. 

Gillian and I made love. It was perfection. Then we talked, our bodies and minds entwined. I will no longer think of my former wife, or other Vampire loves of my past. Thoughts of Gillian are all I want or need. Of course I have my memories, but that is all they are. Just memories, and none as sweet as my thoughts of Gillian. Who needs chocolate when one has true love. Then she whispered in her sleep saying, “Vlad, you’re so cute.”

Sigh. Such is the life and love of a Vampire King.

~ Vlad

 

Kissed by a Vampire

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Paranormal Passions

Zombie Passion

I look into your eye sockets,

Right into your brain

And know you love me

Even if

Your heart is on your sleeve

Because you pinned it there

After it fell

out of your chest.

 

goblin 2

 

Vampire Passion

Your fangs

Glide along my neck

I wait

In anticipation

Then you move your lips to mine

Cold flesh on cold flesh

No fog of our breath

In the cold night

No pitter patter of a beating heart

Just your cold touch

Your cold heart

Icy passion

And your eternal love.

 

Vampire Love

 

Werewolf Passion

You sniff my butt

 

HA HA HA sorry guys… I’m spending too much time hanging out with teens. 

 

Lon Chaney looking hot in a suit! Sweetheart stay out from under that full moon!

 

Ghostly Passion

Your faint glow

Stillness

Only you

Make me whole

And alive

Real

Solid

Feeling

Then together

We vanish

Into our world

Of shadows.

 

Featured Image -- 8599

 Mummy Love

You wrap up my heart

In scented oils

And fine linen

Tight and binding

Forever

Until we meet

In another world

And rule the universe

Unwinding our love.

 

ancient lovers

 

A little more romance among those who aren’t quite human…

Below are a few links a few of the many romantic/love posts on this blog. Enjoy and learn and love.

 

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

lovers kiss

Vampire Diary: Drive Me Nuts

Dear Diary,

As a former Vampire King,  I find myself reflecting on my place in the universe. I understand my unique position to reflect and look back and compare, then and now. I am at a loss for words. After being locked in a crypt for three hundred years, then out for two, this new world still keeps me confused and baffled. It is as if I have been dropped into a mad house.

My neighbors invited me to the PBR Championships. PBR stands for Professional Bull Riding.

I am to understand that we will go to the large arena and watch men ride large angry bulls. While entertainments of my past included bear wrestling and snake dancers there was nothing of this scale and magnitude.

My lover Gillian placed clothing on the bed. “Wear these Vlad.”

I looked at what she had brought. Blue jeans, a brown shirt with an odd collar, boots, and a brown hat.

“What is this?” I asked her.

“Wrangler jeans, a sexy button up shirt, cowboy boots, and a cowboy hat,” she said.

“But we are going to see bull riding, not cow riding. This reeks of  Halloween.”

“Vlad, I’m not going to spend another three hours trying to explain it to you. Just remember Wrangler Butts drive me nuts.”

“Three hours? You jest. You can tell me in a few minutes. What are Wranglers and why do their butts drive you crazy? Why should I remember something you have never told me before, and I do not understand.”

“Vlad, for someone who used to rule a kingdom…” She put her lips to mine, and ran her hands down my back and into the back of my pants. That did not get me into the new clothes, but it did get me out of what I was wearing at the time.

I decided to wear whatever she told me to the Professional Bull Riding event.

~ Vlad

2017-01-28-19-33-47

Dear Diary,

I do not understand the term cowboy. They are neither cows or boys.

I looked up Western and cowboys and bull riding on the Internet. It seems one must have a truck. I do not have a truck. I do not haul large things. I could haul my cats but that would not be wise. Cats do not like to be hauled.

I have a car. It is black. It is fast. I do not haul things. Last night the coyote pup Jane rode with me as I searched out blood and adventure. The adventure part is my attempt at humor. Gillian said I must work on my humor. I told her no and slept alone that day. On the night out with Jane there was no adventure, only blood. Jane, who has the soul of a Werewolf, sat on a blanket on the back seat while I drove. I held her in the crook of my arm while I made my usual rounds at night spots and taverns. Jane is what I believe is called a “chick magnet.” There were no chickens, but all of the women and many of the men were attracted to her cuteness, almost more than they are attracted to my cuteness (which I am still baffled to understand.)

It is said that one should not live with a coyote because it is a wild animal. One should not live with a Vampire either, so I see no problems with Jane.

I would have maybe enjoyed living in the Wild West where coyotes roamed. Then again coyotes roam my neighborhood in what is called suburbia. There are also creatures who wear masks called raccoons. These animals have hands and come to my house at night like thieves. While I researched cowboys I found someone called the Lone Ranger. I am sure he was a raccoon. His side kick must be the thing they call a possum for they both travel at night like Vampires and bats. Now I know. I do live in the Wild West.

When I returned home the cats yelled at me from the front porch, and hissed at Jane. The former Vampire King then fed his subjects who all curled up together and slept while he brooded.

~ Vlad

2017-01-28-19-19-07

Dear Diary,

Tonight I experienced the PBR Event. Professional. Bull. Riding. It was in the new arena called Golden 1 Arena. Why do they call it Golden 1. It is not gold. I saw no gold. Gillian told me to chill. I told her that I was already cold. We are Vampires therefore we are chill. She told me to be quiet. I told her to chill. That made me smile. Gillian was not amused.

As with all events that have to do with sports there is great pageantry. I sat back and could almost feel the wind on my face from days when I would watch the flags fly along the walls of my castle as my subjects cheered at great events I would hold for my citizens. Gillian took my hand and I was back into the present, where I was a cowboy.

A man dressed as a clown in red, white, and blue, danced and said funny things. A “kiss cam” forced Gillian and me to kiss. Then the bull riding began.

The bulls are huge. A rope made of cloth is tied around the waist of the bull, like a belt. A man then sits on the bull. Then the bull, an animal who weighs 2,000 pounds, jumps and kicks until the man falls off, or until about 8 seconds have passed. I imagine the bull is like my cats and gets a treat when he goes back into the pen after the ride.

I wondered if these magnificent animals were killed, but they are not.  I was glad.  The men who ride bulls are from all over the Earth but most tonight were from the USA. I could not take my eyes off of these bull riders. We sat in an arena which is what from what I understand is like something out of a science fiction story, something I could have never imagined before now, in my old life – and now I am here and watching men ride bulls. Bulls. Animals. Large fierce animals. Not cars. Not machines. It is a game of skill between animal and man.

Then the clown told everyone to sing the song. Everyone sings that song here. Don’t Stop Believing. I heard the man sitting behind me saying it has to be with Steve Perry, not the current imposter. They sing this song everywhere and at every single event around here. Even I know the words now. Yes, Vlad the once feared Vampire can sing every single word. The blood of the Twenty First Century is now in my veins.

At a break Gillian took my hand and said she wanted a beer. Out we went into the main hall.

I hear the giggles and muffled squeals, and the gasps as I walk by. I tipped my hat as instructed by Gillian, winked, and gave a smile without my fangs. I will be well fed tonight. I say, “ladies” in a low voice, and they giggle and run into each other.

I hear one woman say to her friend she would like to ride me like a wild bull. I couldn’t imagine jumping around trying to get rid of her, then I thought for a moment, then it occurred to me what sort of ride she was speaking of. Oh.

Then I heard a woman say, “Wrangler butts, drive me nuts.” Now I understand.

Gillian and I arrived home just as the sun came up. I did not sleep with my boots on.

~ Vlad

2017-01-28-19-23-02

 

 

~ End

 

Cowboy

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

Kissed by a Vampire