Friday, August 12, 2011

Blah, Blah, Blah and Yadda, Yadda, Yaddah from Our Vampires In Jerusalem

OK, so we were able to reconstitute the three mini super stars. Bob Dylan, Yusef Islam (formerly known as Cat Stevens) and the Resurrected John Lennon are all back to normal size. Dylan claims we still owe him a couple inches, but that's yet to be decided (the Vampiric Court has to meet on it). They're putting together a song or something for You Tube. Yoko wants to be in it and she thinks she is, but our resident, vampire 'familiar' computer geek  says not to worry, 'cause he gonna splice her aria into six hundred and fifty two prints of Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes. Look for it soon at a multiplex near you.

But Doctor Franklin, back in Philadelphia, sent word to Jonathon and Sarah. The Anti-Enchantment Bureau picked up something (in addition to that not-so-funny, haistily conjured up case a hard to eradicate 'dirty cauldron crotch rot.'). It seems that the usual contingent of vampire haters are beginning to appear deep within the shadowy recesses of the Holy City. Do I know who they are? No, not exactly. But it's a safe bet they're drawn from some twisted remnant of The Inquisition, plus maybe some Dungeons and Dragons flunk outs and misguided 'knights' from The Renaissance Faire. Black robes, nerdy sneakers, greasy chinned louts gnawin' on crisp, fatty turkey legs...Shouldn't be too hard to find...... Still, they can inflict a certain amount of damage and inexperienced life-eaters have been known to fall prey. So the authorities here are warning all facets of el mundo vampirismo to travel in groups. Jonathon and Sarah mostly pal around with the REAL French knight, Jean-Michel. So far, they spend most of their nights trickling drops of their blood into chick pea vats of unsuspecting felalel vendors, in the hope that a bit of their essence will make it into the final product and contaminate hungry lovers of the tasty fried balls with an unexplainable desire for peace and brotherhood. And you know what?.....It seems to be working.

A few of the older, 'purist' types frown on measures like that. Change must come from within. No foreign substances, no vampire hokkus pokkus. They're the ones bankin' on the effectiveness of the Dylan-Islam-Lennon (in alphabetical order, as directed by their agents) You Tube thingy.

We lost track of Renate. (see? you must keep up with's difficult enough funneling info from one dimension, let alone God knows how many, especially when a few of the nearest ones bleed into each other all the time). So if you happen to be in Jerusalem, or anywhere else on Earth, or perhaps in the two nearest parallel universes, keep an eye out for a smoky voiced vixen who looks like a really, really good (and not in the least transvestite-ish) Cher impersonator.

Who am I? Oh, stop it, stop it, stop it. You know who I am. I am Zebulon, your favorite disembodied spirit. Now stand still, so I can sublimate through you and give you a 'kiss.'

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