LIKE KINDERGARTEN COP, BUT WIT' VAMPIRE BABIES

The cherubs peeked out from behind a small, knuckle of rock. They watched Petunia take little tastes of the sad, helpless pin head boy. Actually, if you looked at him real fast, you might not even notice. I mean his face was goofy, but not that goofy and his cranium wouldn't take no blue ribbon at the four aitch or nothin', but it wasn't that far off the mark. Folks in the Pines just called him 'Pin Head,' 'cause his brains were a little slippery. That's all. Nothin' seemed to stick. But he was a good kid and he did not deserve any of this crap.

Now cherubs are a soft hearted lot. Comes from losin' their mamas so young. And they could not abide the 'bad touch' attentions of that sloppy, gluttonous, blood-whore, so they screwed up they little selves, commenced to screechin' some high-pitched baby wails and flew out at the Petunia bitch like hell-in-a-layette-set. You know how they does things with them little tongues? The tips are keen and diamond sharp. Has to be since they ain't got no teeth. Most times they just goes tickle-tickle on a neck or like the top part of a tittie, take a little sip and that's it. Sleepin' folks don't even know they was bit. Nobody dies, 'cause that ain't the way they do business. I think God wants 'em here to spread understanding, 'cause a little bit of each individual's pain and suffering gets passed onto the next one what gets bit. Still, they can be mighty defensive when some bastid gets they talcum up. And they were real set on hurtin' that vampire tramp real bad.

I want you to know this all went  down in like two heartbeats. Each cherub takes an eye. Zooms in wit' them little razor tongues wiggling like crazy jitterbugs and bores right in. She start screamin' and battin' 'em away. They fly off a few yards and come right back. Blood drippin' down her crumby face. She cursin'. She cryin'. Johnny, her vampirino 'fancy man' wakes hisself up from a drooly-mouthed stupor (you see, light from candles or like little Dora the Explorer battery powered lamps tends to hypnotize the man) lunges for his big. ole shotgun and prepares to pump off a round. Pin Head Mel don't do nothin'. He just lookin' and laughin' and clappin', 'cause he like a good show and this better than his most precious favorite, Jerry Springer. That dumb, little son-a-bitch near peed hisself.

But Johnny can't do nothin' with that ole gun. You know most vampires can't finesse no firearm worth shit. And I do not know why that's so, but it just is. So next thing, he gets real mad and starts swingin' it 'round like a baseball bat, or something. Now he aimin' for them cute, little vampire babies, but they fast, so BAM! Petunia takes a hit., right on the least ugliest side a her head. He tries again, only them flyin' babies go zippin' 'round like a couple regular kamikazes. It the Battle a Midway all over again. Pin Head laughin' and laughin'. Petunia wrigglin' down in the dirt, cryin' 'My eyes! My eyes! That's when them babies take off after the man, 'cause she gonna be blind for 'bout a million heartbeats 'fore her eyes grow back. And when they do, it gonna burn and itch like hell. So he get  up and go runnin' down some side tunnel like Curly (you know, from The  Three Stooges?) wit' a gorilla after him. Babies figure that mus be a fast way out. So they rouse the moron. You know, kick him in the face a few times, like to get his attention. First he look angry. No, more sad like he 'bout to cry. Then he smiles, 'cause they keep flyin' at him and bouncin' back like it a game a tag. Morons like games. You know how he is with Yahtzee?

Forty one heartbeats later, they got him outta that mine and led  him back home. Hardly tripped in the dark, or nothin', 'cept for that semi-rotten, ole mafia body. But you know you gonna find them in The Pines.They like the national flower or somethin'. They planted everywhere.

Folks is so happy to see him, they had a Yahtzee party went on for like six hours.

Ain't nobody even noticed when it begin to snow....

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LET THE CIRCLE BE UNBROKEN, IN THE SKY, LORD, IN THE SKY

Lailah opened her eyes. She was home. She was back in her room. The cozy, tiny rectory looked the same, rough, old plaster walls (some actually made from stone) thick, antiques pieces warmed by generations of human touch. A candle sputtered upon a small night stand. Was it day? Was it night? Did it matter? She heard voices out in the little plaza, just people, just normal Jerusalemites trying to survive. People were eating mushrooms now. Root vegetables were almost gone, though some said hidden stores existed in rediscovered underground cisterns. But then the people hurried on and all was quiet.

For a moment she thought it all a dream. She was herself. She was unchanged, just an ever so slightly rebellious young girl. But then she sensed it. And then she knew. Vampires occasionally 'hover' in their sleep. It's a type of minor levitation, causing life-eaters to rise up a bit and float perhaps a tenth of a cubit above the sheets. So there she was, suspended maybe two inches up from her cot. Then the magic evaporated and she fell back down. She burrowed under the blankets and curled up on her side, staring into the candlelight.

Far out among strange worlds, in the region of gaseous giants, Sarah stood by a thick, quartz window gazing at the immensity of Saturn. Tiny cyclonic storms, each no bigger than the Earth danced across the creamy, golden 'surface.' She watched as a baby asteroid zoomed down, punching it's way through the highest cloud tops, only to disintegrate in a small, violent explosion. But that was Saturn. On Earth, such an event would be Judgement Day.

They made a few other half-hearted forays out to the aliens. But what could they do? They were just like that asteroid. It was just like punching clouds. The people from the Anti-Enchantment-Bureau (odd, that they still used that name) hoped to try something. They still wanted to attempt a kind of tandem attack mixing vampire sublimators with certain frequencies from the Great Armonica. But privately, Sarah and the others didn't think it would work. Maybe they could chip away at the entities, in perhaps about five hundred years. Jonathon didn't think they could even do that much.

People thought about family back on Earth. Once in a while a signal made it through, so they knew it was bad. But the aliens hadn't caused any more fatalities...at least not through any distinct, violent episodes. A few investigators were beginning to suspect such things may have been 'accidents' or acceptable collateral damage. Maybe humans couldn't understand the big picture? Maybe our limited senses just perceived things that way? Who could tell? A few of the telepaths among them (yes, they brought them out here too) had 'dreams.' They saw swirling visions...dancing embers and silvery mists. They saw the birth of our star system. And the entities were there even then....... Imagine, a coherent intelligence enduring for more than five billion years. The reality of it troubled some, though others were deeply moved and inspired. A young vampire from Papua New Guinea said that new stars form constantly and we will be 'old ones' to organisms yet unformed.

But still...these aliens must have been ancient even then........

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YUM YUM EAT 'EM UP

So there was two of 'em. Ugly noxious life-eaters. Them what got buried with the .night kiss. and had to dig their way out. That's what does it to 'em. Scrambles the brains a bit. Makes 'em all looney. One used to be a woman. The other kind a favors a man, only now you'd never taken 'em for such. Wild animals is what they is. Look at the eyes, all glassy and hot. It's the fresh blood, the drink they got from them two bald headed Jehovah's Witnesses what does it. Disgustin'. Got hair like unrepentant hags. Grandmama Addams had better. Oh, and you can tell a noxious, even when they quiet, even when they sit still and give you that slimy toothy grin. Dried blood caked in the corners of their mouths. Look at the tongues scraping it up. Must be like bacon bites to them.

I think the almost female bitch is winnin'. She wavin' those cards 'round like a drugged up swami or something. He gonna kill her one a these nights, or do whatever it is they do instead a killin'. Take a peek at the crud they got under those nails... and jammed in them wrinkly knuckles too. No noble vampire would ever go 'round like that. Probably sleeps in coffins, they does, or did when they had 'em.She got a taste for the kiddies. He likes a good, hot rum-pot, don't care snot what the plumbing's like.Been foulin' up Creation for two hundred years, they are. Dripped down from somewhere's up north when the trouble started.. Don't know what names they was born with. She goes by Petunia. He answers to Johnny. Bet they was planted in them rags. I sees bugs dancin' up and down them creases...little brown, shiny ones, politely scroungin' for snacks. Maybe they keeps 'em for pets?

Gave the pin head boy a coloring book, plus a little four-pack a crayons they filched from the pocket a their last entree. Used to be a waitress in an Applebee's, she was. Back before the dark time. Brought 'em home for her little boy, a sweet, chubby tot with warm brown curls. Kind you could just eat right up....which they  did, with gusto and relish.

That's why the cherubs hates 'em so much. Ain't been flying 'round lately. Mostly stays close to the cabin. Pathetic lot they are. Remembers the cradle. Remembers the soft, warm swaddling. The devoted mama. The pleased as punch papa. And the red eyed night fiends what did it to them. So they flies out, tastin' the air like sad spaniel puppies.

One a them sees the opening. Picks up a bit a grave stench too. Gurgles something to the other. Three heartbeats later they tumble down (cherubs can be sloppy fliers at times) and silently toddle into the old mine. Then they get down on all fours and begin to crawl.....two vampire cuties bundled up in them cute, little outfits Edith and Baylah knit for 'em.

Petunia pulls her flabby self up off the stool and waddles over to the pin head. Oh, he's real scared. You can see it. But he pretends not to notice. Acts like he's concentrating on what color Astro should be. She smacks her ass down next to him and shifts it around tryin' to find a comfy spot on all them bones. He inches over toward a lumpy wall. She does too. He exhales and shudders. Might a peed a little too, but just a little. She smiles and strokes his pin head hair. Must a learned her act from a spider, 'cause she does it so good. Then she lifts up his leg and hefts it, like she's tryin' to estimate how many pounds it is. He just lowers his head the way little boys do,  resting his chin upon his chest. The virago vampire woman hums a little ditty, as she rolls up the corduroy pant leg, exposing the helpless, white flesh. Then she leans down and kisses it.

Pin Head Mel begins to cry...not a lot....not so you could hear ....but a few salty tears run down his cheeks, dripping onto his carefully laundered, long sleeved cotton tee-shirt. His mama loves him and even in these trying times, she wants him to look nice.

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SPACE COWBOYS SITTIN' ON NEW FANGLED PEGASUS'

No warning. I know that the wilkravitz sometimes tells you to wait for a post in say 90 minutes or seventy five minutes, but not tonight. Zebulon has been flickering through the Akoshic Records and he has found , or remembered things you should know. Many of the vampires are privy to this information due to their long lives and other such advantages.Now... you will be too.

What I will tell you this time comes from a place where our story and curiosities of the future intersect.You' re already seeing bits and pieces of this eternal fandango every night. Some have said those events transpire in another place, another universe. Well... are you so sure of YOUR location? How  do you really know where you are?. Individuals drift, you know. There, I said it. Now you heard it. Look around at the people snortin' and belchin' near you. True, they may have been there last night. But are the details the same? Maybe the flavor of the ice cream in the freezer is a bit unusual, or the dog has a different collar. Do you detect a slightly more exotic variety of B.O. wafting through the family room?  Perhaps you've drifted. Maybe you'e slipped through the space-time continuim. Could be you popped up in another universe. Odds are it's gonna be essentially just like the one you left.But maybe in this one you DO become a successful businessman, or who knows, an eight hundred foot tsunami rearing up off the Outer Banks one summer day might slap you like a gnat.  Quantum theorists believe in such things.. We're  like static in the atmosphere. sometimes God tunes us in. And sometimes He don't.

Now, I'm gonna learn you about stuff on Mars. They already got a town going up there. You regular people know that. What's it called? Wait a minute. I know. Circus Towne 1. That's it. They call it Circus Towne1. But that stellar community mostly occupies one building. Sure it's a big building. A basketball/hockey arena, I think it was. Only some folks are making it out.  They are sayin' sy-o-nara sucker off that locked in a Faberge egg world you call home. A few ships broke though the Sky Sea.. They had the speed. They doused the engines and just barreled through. I don't know how deep it is. A lot of people figure it goes on for maybe a few thousand feet.. A top of the line ion-turbo-drive ship like they use now could zip through that in no  time. I can't say who organized it. Of course all the government fat asses got golden tickets. But so did a lot a rich folks. Now look, I'm not talkin' 'bout a Lexus and a condo in Lauderdale rich. I'm talking about people who hold the leash on jumped-up creeps like that.... Billionaires, I mean. Guys who share urologists with Warren Buffet. And not just them, but their Chatsworth Osbourne Junior bastard offspring  too.

So according to what it says here, they're out on Mars, living like high-tone cattle barons in old Virginia City. They got all the supplies. They got all the juiciest commodities. You need insulin? You wanna live? Or better yet, do you want your kid to live? Then pay up in goods, or currency, or services. Even the government plays ball with 'em. Remember them old movies? Remember Silverado? Remember that one with Sharon Stone and that Crazy Harry guy? Well, Ponderosa times is back again. Hell, they even raisin' horses. Now geneticists do think it's possible to put wings on 'em ( the horses, not them Chatsworth Osbourne Junior bastids), but that's just in the planning stage. Right now, them what can afford to are cruisin' 'round in fiberglass kit versions of 1964 Pomtiac GTO's. Pressure suits  kind a defeat the whole convertible vibe. But they workin' on terraforming the place. That's when I figure they'll be ready with them flyin' horses and all. Got some spiffy subterranean houses gone up on Scaparelli Drive. Palm trees ain't real, but they sure do look nice.

Shit, I gotta go. That hatchet faced, giant, all-most-a-goddess fat lady they got at the front desk says my time is up. Some other son-of-a-bitch disembodied spirit is waiting for a turn to browse through  Records. I am sick of it! When them Akoshic sons-a-bitches gonna get some more research stations 'round here!?  Look at that bastid... reading all about Natalie Wood.. Like  to flush his head down a real bad black hole and give his mouth a shit bath. That's where we do our business up here (when we want to, 'cause with passed-away-folks deficatin' is not mandatory). In black holes, I mean. And I  find the black holes at Stucky's for Dead Folks to be the best.

So now you know. Soylent Green is people and black holes is toilets. Don't ask me about no pulsars, 'cause that is just gonna make you  sick.

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CHUBBY LITTLE BOYS GO 'WHEEEE!' ALL THE WAY DOWN MINE SHAFTS ALL THE TIME

Used to be a lot a iron foundries scattered through the Jersey Pines. I'm talkin' 'bout a hundred and fifty years ago. In them days folks'd grab chunks a metal outta the streams, or dig 'em up like wicked, hard taters or something. Kinda like the California Gold Rush, 'cept nobody invented Levi's, or did anything real glamorous like that. And when they all left (guess they hopped a train to Atlantic City, maybe), the forest got up off its big fat ass and just came back. Now, ain't nobody can see any iron foundries. Yeah, they got a ghost town or two all done up for day trippers, but most day trippers got other priorities now that we all locked into a watery shell. But you still gotta be careful . Dead, old mines like to hide out there. Chubby, little careless boys go WHEEEE, all the way down  bone crushin' mine shafts all the time. Local paper used to list 'em. Kept records and everything.. Gave a prize to the lucky subscriber who came closest to prognasticatin' how many chubby boys'd go WHEEEE, all the way down to a reasonable facsimile of hell. One year my grandma won two fresh-killed turkeys. 'Cept one was only mostly dead when she got it and it shit all over the rug 'fore she could kill it a little better. She asked the paper for money so she could buy a new rug. Sears had  nice oval ones for two dollars and ninety eight cents. But the wife a the man who ran the paper told her to go to hell and drop dead, which she subsequently did, although not necessarily in that order. So we just made do and learned to live with the stains. Reminded us a how lucky she was that week.

Well, anyway, that's where Pin Head Mel is. That boy got hisself flushed down to the bottom of a cold, damp mine shaft. Not that it was completely his fault. He was just runnin' 'round, bouncin' off tree trunks, gettin' pine needles in his eyes (which is a common occurrence, now that it's never light or nothing.) when two, nasty, slobberin' vampires ketched him. Not the good ones. Not the 'nobles.' These are the bad ones, the 'noxious' ones. Kinda like zombies, only they don't stagger 'round like drunks so much and they pants ain't all peed in, 'cause like vampires, you know, don't piss or nothing. Guy up in Ocean County says they have been known to fart once in a while,  but I don't know...

So now that sweet, little, weird, old Piney boy is sittin' on a mess a molderin' hoomin bones (lotsa folks done fell down that one), whimperin' for his mama and singin' Happy Birthday over and over and over again. (it's the only song he knowed all the way from beginning to end.). And them 'noxious' bastids just sit there playin' canasta by the light of a Dora The Explorer battery powered campin' lamp.(it got a real pretty shade. makes them bones look all pink and homey-like). Oh, they do mean to drink him all up, 'cept they just finished vampiring two bald headed Jehovah's Witnesses, so they savin' him for later. You know, the way real people would do like with Velveeta cheese or Ritz crackers?

It's pathetic watchin' that jug-headed, l'il honey-bunch sittin' there rockin' and singin' and all. Genuine hoomins woulda gone crazy by now, but vampires seem to have the ability to ignore such things. Wish I'd a been like that, 'stead a lettin' my husband's bonafide f#*kface grandmother shove one too many heart-attacks down my throat. That little bedbug, Popeye the Sailor woman kept pickin' and pickin' and pickin'....... Why I ain't got no fancy titties?... Her granbaby like fancy titties, don't you know....  Why I make cornflakes like a real dope?... Don't even know how to pour out cornflakes... Why I ain't got purdy hair like Judge Judy?......Why my left arm pit smell like Doritos?.... How the hell am I supposed to know scientific shit like that!? I ain't never graduated from no Girl Scouts!......... I am just a jittery, newly dead, disembodied spirit what got buried in a old house dress, without no cigarettes. And if you  all want a find out what them scabby-teethed suckers gonna do to that poor, little singin'-boy, you better zip it and go hide your lumpy heads up vacant asses, where they belong!!

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PIN HEAD MEL STILL MISSIN' and more NEWS FROM THE JERSEY PINES

Pin Head Mel is missing. People are out looking for him now. The elves are flying around trying to pick up his scent. That shouldn't be too difficult, since he's been living on old tubes of Hickory Farms beef-liver pate and store brand peanut butter. We're all on stuff like that. Food is scarce in the dark. But I already told you that.

It's me, wilkravitz. No... wait, wait, wait...that's my twitter name. My flesh and blood one is Billy Kravitz. And I'm still stuck here in this parallel universe. You know nine percent of the male population in  North America is named 'Billy.' And Gladys Kravitz' husband, Abner, was a retired cantor. Now, why did I say that? I think the fever is making me delirious. I'm sweating and shivering too. Edith says it'll pass. But her husband, Mr. Edith ain't so sure. Says I may not be used to all the 'bugs' they got in this place, like Tijuana Poo Poo, or Ga-Ga-Fritzie disease. Can't even get shots, 'cause lotsa docs grabbed what they could outta hospital pharmacies before running away to hide with their families. The Red Paint people have some herbal remedies. I'm on one now. Tastes like rancid garlic and Fluffer-Nutter. Could use a little more rancid garlic, if you ask me.

A lot a folks are scared Pin Head Mel got caught by a band a 'noxious' vampires. The cherubs been crying lately... too scared to fly around. They sense something. It's pathetic. They're so scared. Edith and the other women hold 'em and rock 'em and sing to 'em.We all got itchy,little bites from 'em. The elves and cherubs, I mean. Nobody minds, 'cause they don't take much blood... just little nips. You should hear 'em gurgle with delight when they get some.. It makes me feel good. The only adult vampire, a 'noble' one, I mean, we got with us is Baylah. She slinks off into the dark once in a while, hunting for 'food.' But the noble ones are all right. They just go after weird perverts and evil shitheads and stuff.. So far she ain't complaining. I guess the Jersey Pine Barrens got an adequate supply.

Baylah picks up like little mental tweets from Blackie and Minnie back in Philadelphia. It's worse in the cities. People got guns. People got pepper spray. Gangs roam the inky blackness armed with big, super-sized cans a Aqua Net and Bic lighters. All you gotta do is ignite a spritz and you got a cheap, but serviceable flame thrower. Who knew they carried such cutting edge military equipment at the dollar store?

Mr. Edith picked up a story on the radio. Government's gonna send a few a the gung-ho vampires they been keeping in the Pentagon on a mission. Look, that ain't no secret anymore. Everybody knows about vampires now. At least in THIS dimension they do. I don't know how it is in my real dimension, 'cause I can't tell when we branched off. Happy-the-Clown could be running for President of the United States  there right now, for all I know. But the  guy on the radio says they want to send some a the vampires with good 'sublimation' skills on a mission. Want 'em to fly up outta the atmosphere and explore the Great Sky Sea we got surrounding us. I don't know what the hell they can do about it.

The people they got out on Mars, the ones in Circus Towne1 sent back pictures. They got 'em just before the sky lakes expanded and merged into the Great Sky Sea. But nobody likes to look at them, 'cause it's too scary.

Them what knows says it's gonna get even colder. Earth's givin' up its last little bit a solar radiation. It rises up into space, warming the waters of our briny shell. Then it goes wanderin' off into the cosmos. But we can't get no more warmth from the sun. Oh, the sun sends it, alright, but it just bounces off them shining sky waves and goes poof.  Might as well just flush it down a giant toilet.

Earth must look real pretty from somewhere's else right now. Must look like a real big, glittery mirror. Bet it even outshines Venus. You will have to excuse me, but I gotta stop typing this. Them elves is pesterin' me to play Yatzee with 'em. No sign a Pin Head Mel, so they called off the search til 'morning.'...... God knows when that'll be....

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ZEBULON'S SLEEPY POEM.....

This is the state of humanity in the realm of which I speak. Untold legions of them crawl about on the orb known as Earth. Thousands congregate on the world known as Dagan. Excuse me. I use the ancient Semetic name for the God of War. You probably call him Ares, or Mars. Mars, yes...Mars....That's it. And a similar number hovers about the big honey colored one with the round, flat diadem. Cronos? Chronos? No, not chronus...Saturn...Yes, Saturn... Saturn-Saturn-Saturn... I have to remember that name. It's just that we who have incarnated in past ages are so intrigued by the vast, glittering arc they call home. How did you construct such a dazzling conveyance? Which jinn did you bribe? Is it true that your imperial necromancers brought forth such a thing on their own? Ah, such wonders. But you must remember that I am Zebulon, none but the disembodied spirit of a thirteen year old Judean boy. Your 'creation' is much bigger than ours. The Pillars of Samson (known to  you by that pagan stand-in, Hercules) marked the end of my world. True, the Phonecian fleet, under ageis of The Great Steward of God's Throne (King Solomon to you) touched the Tin Isles (Britian) and kissed lands far to the south of Punt (Sheba), but they were just exceptions to the rule. And now you like in a cosmos devoid of rules.

But know that I have seen realms aplenty. Ten to your 'north' and six to your 'south.' The one with all the problems spoons close to you. It is the first one to the 'north.' Your cauldron stirrers call them parallel universes. Yet the pox afflicting them is contagious. Beware. Protect yourself. Light fires. Burn incense. Sacrifice virgins, if such is still your custom. Zebulon knows so little of unbelievers.

Yet these people from 'first to the north' show promise. Perhaps they can best this pestilence. Or perhaps it is not truly a pestilence at all. Permitt me to share what I know about that other Holy City...that other Jerusalem..... a mirror image to yours in oh, so many ways.....

Lailah came back from the Sky Princes. Her father found her asleep in her bed. The shock almost killed him. But he is used to miracles, or the possibility of miracles, so he managed to survive. Three hundred heartbeats later, after replacing his pissed up garments with clean ones, he knelt by her pallet, listening to her tell of the sojourn in the sky.

Now he is a man of what you term the Twenty First Century. He's seen copies of The National Geographic. He has tasted the gastronomic wonders of limitless buffets. Fried calamari is as naught to him. Jiggling cubes of 'Jello' are but toys. Yet this recollection astounded him. And he ran his fingers in amongst her teeth, searching for the lethal fangs. For he knew that his daughter was a life-eater, though he'd hoped the affliction might have passed.

The cat-like eye teeth were still there. He slumped down onto the cold, tile floor in disappointment.

And outside the night that was not night, or the day that never dawned, went on, as the spiritual navel of Creation endured under a dull, dead, green-black sky. Food was hard to get. Theives scooped up every crumb. All the lambs were slaughtered. Now the kids were next. (please do not be confused. I speak of little goatkins and not the rude, young, humans you so readily breed). Corn and millet and rye had long since been baked into cakes and devoured. Most lived on cans of soup...Dinty Moore Beef Stew.... and cellophane wrapped tendons of Beef Jerky. Those fellow Proclaimers of God's Unity, whether Jew or Muslim were sorely afflicted, for a 'Righteous, Clean' diet proved almost non-existent. But good shoots sometimes spring from moldy seeds. And the two 'brothers,' the two Son's of Abraham (whether figuratively or literally... humans are such whores {Ooh! I said it!}who can possibly know such a thing?) helped each other. Foodstuffs were shared. Prayers said in common. And help went both ways. At first few noticed. But after a time...they did......

And the luminous relic, resting down in the cellar, began to resonate. Maybe there would be a worthy 'final act' before the end? But the play is not yet done. The 'noxious' life-eaters have yet to speak. Pray their scenes are short.

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maybe a few prayers might help these links? you know the problems we've been having with them.
http://vampirewonderland.blogspot.com/  (gadzooks! it worked!) http://www.getfanged.com/  .. http://caballoblue.com/  .. http://theworldwideweber.com/  .. http://generationwhynot-stupidgirl.blogspot.com/  ..  http://billoberst.com/  .. http://www.tearsofcrimson.com/ ..... I KNOW there are many more, but I cannot recall them. Please understand. tweet me. Remind me. I will put them up tomorrow.

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