This IS NOT the Post. This is just a 'heads up' alerting you to read the posting right below...

Go read the Book of Sarah post right under this one. It's from the 'early nights'...about two years ago. Annie is still a bewitched little mortal and Papa is still a prisoner in a deep, rock bound, quasi Vatican controlled dungeon. He's been there for centuries. But his mind is free to wander through creation. Annie knows him as 'the shaky hand man'...... I think only four people read it back then and that's a shame. The early story arcs were real good.


Please take a look. Wander through a here-to-fore unknown world.... a vampire 'reality' waiting to be discovered. Practice a little digital archaeology and find it.


Thank you...and as the 'life-eaters' say ----- May you never know fear. May you never know pain. May you hide from death now and for forever...


REMEMBER---- We only PRETEND that it's fiction.


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vampire wonderland: The Book of Sarah

vampire wonderland: The Book of Sarah: The nameless voice speaks again! I like it when I get to talk. It can become quite boring just floating through Creation. Oh, I did see a pl...

VAMPIRES AIN'T MADE TO LIVE LIKE THAT

Sarah says that if they ever write a screenplay based on her life, she wants the last scene played out over those lines Paul McCartney sang at THE OLYMPICS ~~~ 'and in the end... the love you take... is equal to the love you make.' Then she gave Tomas a dirty look. I know he feels guilty about cheating on her so much, but he IS a vampire, so they ain't never gonna be like OZZIE & HARRIET. And she knows that, but she just wants it to be like it was. So he's sitting with her right now. They're in where the mermaid hag used to live. The big tank is still there. I think they got penguins in it now. But one of the penguins got a human head, so that makes it all right. You know how they value nonconformity around here. They're just sitting there, bathed in the dark, blue glow, legs dangling over the edge. He's got his arm around her. She's sucking an ice pop made out of grape infused, grain alcohol. you know how vampires can tolerate that...... alcohol, I mean. 


But that human headed penguin looks a little funny to me...... Keeps sticking his tongue out at her and making crazy faces. Look at him! Look at him! Look how he crosses his eyes. The other penguins don't seem to notice, but bird-headed penguins are dopes. Tomas tosses them little pieces of cut up herring. He got it from the commissary. But the 'human' one has trouble grabbing it with his mouth, 'cause he ain't got no beak. Girl from the 'bureau' bottle feeds him four times a day. holds him like a baby and everything. She don't mind. He's cute. Looks just like Rodney Dangerfield. Wants a bring him a red neck-tie, but her boss says penguins don't wear no red neck-ties. They wear bow ties. So she says - Oh.


Grigori Usipov ain't killed nobody else. He's getting ready for a big party ....a big HAMPTONS party. He siphoning off like a Flintstones jelly glass a blood from each a the 'Natashas,' ,'cause he wanna look his best. They go -Oooh and ahhh when he take it. He like that part. Wanna bite it right out they ass. But he superstitious 'bout that jelly glass. I don't know the story behind it, but I'll let you know soon as I do...... He wanna get hisself all inked up. But vampire skin don't take to that. Disappears real fast. Natasha Number One say she give him real nice henna tattoo. But he tell her to drop dead and go to  hell. Then he flip her over and start doin' stuff to her. She go - ooh and aaah REAL good then. Natasha Number Two get jealous. but she don't care.


Tomas say he gonna do all kinds a stuff to Sarah too, but first they gotta wash the stink off from all that greasy herring.


Baylah buyin' clothes from QVC. She say they got real cute merchandise. 


Vampires ain't made to live like this. 


Annie ask the kitchen lady for a big block a Velveeta cheese. Then she bite into it over and over and over, 'cause she like seein' the sharp, little marks from her teeth. Ask Doctor Franklin if she could kill the kitchen lady. But he say no, 'cause she make such good pancakes and all.


I bet tomorrow one of 'em gonna kill somebody. I bet they gonna kill somebody real good. And it ain't gone make no difference if they make pancakes, or French toast, or nothin'.


An' Conrad watchin' The 700 Club. I think he wanna bite Pat Cooper. No, Pat Robertson. Not Pat Cooper. I got the wrong one. 'Scooze me...


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MARTHA STEWART says - A fresh carafe of distilled, Vietnamese, Pot-Bellied Pig's Blood makes a wonderful gift for that special, vampire someone...

The 'vampires' on TRUE BLOOD make Tomas livid. He says they're  gross, hurtful caricatures meant to marginalize life-eaters rob them of all spiritual dignity. 


Of course he NEVER watches the show, but certain people attached to the Anti-Enchantment-Bureau do. It's a big thing. They eat Cheetos, or make popcorn and drink Kool-Aid (the VERY CHERRY kind). And actually, they don't even pay any attention to all the comic book vampire crap. They just watch it for all the cool, hot, naked people. Each week somebody else keeps score. They take turns counting all the nips, or boobs, or tushies, or doggy-parts, or kitty-parts flashing across the screen. 


I think the 'center line' of the story involves people who willingly become vampires so they can live for centuries and have a whole lot a extra time for sex...... you know... like Hugh Hefner.


And the fangs look more like juvenile elephant tusks than the real thing.

The only part Tomas does like is the clothes, 'cause he has a thing for snug fitting black leather jackets too.


You see, all this shit with Grigori Usipov is makin' him go 'holy roller' again. Tomas, I mean. He found an old recording of Jan Pierce singing Kol Nidre (the Jewish liturgy of Divine Forgiveness and Absolution) and he plays it over and over and over. Doctor Franklin had it in The Archives, which is kind of like a slightly abridged version of The Akoshic Records. Edgar Caycee's toupee is in there. He's got Nostradamus' cod-piece and a polly seed once held between the teeth of Saint Francis Xavier. You know, like when he was feeding the birds?


Sarah's gotten into the group that works with the Great Armonica. Last night they reproduced a frequency (like chords) that conjured up flickering, ghost-like, holographic images of Janis Joplin eatin' a bowl a spaghetti. Boy, was she a slob. And they saw Liz Taylor, in a dirty nightgown, laughin' in the background. Sometimes they get a double exposure like that. It can't be helped. Annie wants 'em to bring back the girl from THE BAD SEED. You know, Patty McCormick? She kind a patterns herself after her, so that's understandable. 


Tomas wants Papa to sublimate that Russian guy someplace real bad, like the surface of the sun (a specialty of his), or maybe an isolated, frigid asteroid drifting someplace in Jeh-pip's ville. But Papa doesn't answer. He just sits there. Human problems bore him. And most other vampires are so young next to him, they seem human too. All he likes 'em for is sex. The humans, I mean..... the female ones.


Doctor Franklin gets coded messages from some guy in Washington. There is a plan to take down the Russian. They know he's in The Hamptons. But there's so much security built into the compounds out there, it's hard to get to him. Martha Stewart lives next door. She knows he's a vampire. I don't know how she knows, but she knows. Last night she sent over a carafe of specially distilled, Vietnamese, Pot-Bellied Pig's blood. The Russian guy... the vampire-oligarch, responded via an appreciative email, but he won't drink it..... only likes human.... and THAT he gets from the 'Natashas'.......


Tomas wants to use the Great Armonica (it's big... takes up a whole room) to contact the Chevalier Jean-Michel, his friend from that alternate universe, but Doctor Franklin wants to use it to watch future Eagles' games. You know Jeffery Lurie does send him those sweat suits and all.


That's all. I'm tired (even disembodied spirits suffer debilitating bouts on ennui)..... This is Zebulon signing off.....


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PROTECTORS OF THE PARANORMAL in high places

Grigori liked this place. He enjoyed sitting out on the wide, slate terrace overlooking the surf. Mornings, or almost mornings excited him. There was just a bit of violet tinge down low in the south-eastern sky, but a powerful life-eater has no problem with that. Sometimes he plays a game. 'Touch the sun,' he calls it ---- step outside in the morning, just before the false dawn and stand there waiting for the stars to die. The air would quicken. It always does at sunrise. Birds began to sing. True a few sing even in darkness. But the grand avian overture heralds the light. Then he'd see the shadows fade away, feel the breeze and wait for the burn. The tender skin around the eyes goes first. Then the cheekbones. He loved it. He loved it all, for it recalled his humanity, though he was something different now and so he went inside. Once, long, long ago, he'd allowed hot, tiny, fire kisses to dance about his body.....Once, but not now....


She waited in the kitchen, a vast expanse of granite, stone and steel. Special shades sealed out the light. Ah, the luxuries of The Hamptons..... A vampire could get lost here and Grigori often did. She gave him a robe, thick, white and warm. He put it on, arranged himself within the arms of a commodious chair and waited for his 'night cap.' Every day the ritual was the same.... a glass of icy vodka..... some push-ups.... some pilates. Not that he needed them. His body never changed. But he savored the regimen just the same. And then they'd retire to the 'chamber.' He had many, strewn all about the world, snug, little berths lined with birch wood and carpeted with cloud-like mounds of Siberian Goose down. Now you know some vampires watch television from the crypt (Tomas hates that word), or tap out little messages on computers. But Usipov is a purist..... no candles.... no light... no distractions. Just him and a 'Natasha.' True, in the past he'd once had Bashias and I do not even recall all the other names. But his time in seclusion is spent in restoration. He loves and he sleeps and that's it. 


Guards, dressed as old Czarist Strelsky (akin to the French musketeers) kept watch before the twin, oaken doors (each painted in the fashion of imperial icons). Granted, he did have a bailalika resting in the corner, but he very rarely played it.


Grigori Usipov respects tradition. Contemporary society, the world over, apparently cares little for that.... but such things soon will change...


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AN EXPLANATION OF OUR STRANGE AND PIXILATED VAMPIRE UNIVERSE

Not much to tell tonight. The life-eaters are all tucked in nice and cozy with Doctor Franklin and the 'guys' down in the underground compound of The Anti- Enchantment Bureau. It's odd. Millions of people drive by the spot. You can see it from Interstate 95. The pill-box-like entrances to the subterranean labs, clinics, research center, 'menagerie' and residence (Franklin's extensive quarters are positively palatial) are all right there, but nobody ever notices. It's like a virtually unknown Area 51 hiding in plain sight among industrial and governmental installations. They still make ships there (not at the 'bureau' but elsewhere on the sprawling site) and international conglomerates still do whatever it is international conglomerates do. 


Some people (a VERY small group) claim to detect strange frequencies and energy pulses leaking out from the bureau's laboratories. They blame them on Doctor Franklin's work with the Great (or 'Grand') Armonica, a device he's been tinkering with since pre-Revolutionary times. The current model is huge and very much a product of the digital age. 


And for those who are new to all this, let me reiterate----- Doctor Franklin is NOT a vampire. That's not how he's achieved his longevity. The old reprobate preserves his physicality via carefully controlled exposure to the strange, harmonic energy given off by his favorite 'plaything.'


Google -- Vampire Wonderland, Doctor Franklin, Great Armonica for more.


I suppose a response to the mayhem brought on by Grigori Usipov (the Russian, nationalist, vampire, oligarch) is in order. Just know that plans are being made. Washington has it's own cadre of life-eaters billeted in safe houses all around the DC area, not to mention embedded cells within various factions of The Russian State. And not just Russia. But we can't tell you any more, for if we did, we'd have to suspend your animation.... permanently............ What did you think, they only lived in stark, poetic manor houses out on the English Moors, or baroque, little jewel-box, petit palaces hidden away on twisted, urban byways? Please! Some of them shop at H&M and everything. A few enjoy a James Bond existence, with custom wardrobes, fine automobiles and physically impeccable bed partners. (They're motioning. They don't want me to tell you more)


Now our Philadelphia contingent tends to be rather traditional, not in a Dracula sort of way......no coffins, or anything like that. But an urbane, metropolitan lifestyle suites them. Though I'm not talking about the 'elves' and 'cherubs.'  They are unique and remarkable in and of themselves.


If you've been with us for any length of time, you know most of this. But we get questions from novices and repeated explanations are necessary.


Please, ask us anything via a COMMENT. And tell others about this strange, apparently 'fictional' site. Look, We're not going to tell you what to believe, but..... you know.......

Thank you and good night. .....<episode 731 of the vampire wonderland..... enough material to fill five full length volumes....... Google --- blog, Vampire Wonderland. get us via atom or RSS..... you probably know more about that stuff than we do.... scroll down to the very bottom of this offering for more>

SABADO GIGANTE KNEW ABOUT THE VAMPIRES. SO DID KATHY LEE...(maybe)

Word of 'the massacre on The Main Line' got out. Two of the maids saw everything. They saw the greasy ashes smeared all over the sheets. They saw the tiny bits of human remains. At  first they couldn't tell what it was. But one of them has a daughter in medical school and she gave her a sample (wants a be a pediatrician ---- nobody questions fees for sick kids). Initially, she thought it might be simian, like maybe a chimp, or a chupicabra or something. However, after further experimentation she was certain. The re-solidified fat was human.


And the only reason the maids were allowed  to go home every night was because they didn't understand English. All English speaking service employees were kept on the premises for the duration. Plus, each and every piece of internet capable equipment was confiscated. Not from the attendees. From the help. They even posted guards outside to look for coded messages, via flashlight dots and dashes.


I'm telling you. This yearly event is a big deal. They serve that South American (or maybe Central African) cat shit coffee and everything. Diane von Furstenberg played a flute. Warren Buffet gave out pens. And they mapped out the parameters of  Third World development (which included an ever growing segment of our own, North American population) plus the weekend guest lists at various carriage trade, seaside retreats.


Oh, they knew it was a vampire. True, one of the cases may have just been an example of plain, run-of-the-mill spontaneous human combustion. High level movers and shakers are completely open to things like that. Look, they've been to Area 51 (inside the gates, I mean). What do you expect? And a certain, little, deformed Chihuahua with hands that gets carried around at a lot of these soirees isn't exactly canine. They tried to make him wear little pants, but he told them to 'go to hell.' So now they mostly just divert their eyes.... or pretend to. You should see him tuck into the cold shrimp.


So Tele-Mundo has the story. And I think the dancers on Sabado Gigante sang a little song about it, but so far, the mainstream English speaking media has been silent. I'm told Kathy Lee and Hoda made some kind of an obtuse reference, but they always do that, so who knows?


But Edith picked it up. And Tomas picked it up (he does speak Spanish, after all). And Papa picked it up...... Tomas has gone back to spouting his holy roller chants ---'Not the Shepherd, but the sheepdog... Not the Shepherd, but the sheepdog.' Sure he swore it off a few months ago, but don't believe it. That's just the way he is. Talks Hebrew and Aramaic (I can't tell the difference) in his sleep. Wants to be called by his 'liturgical' name - Jonathon ben Macabi. Communes with his long dead, former body servant, Johannan, and everything.


Look, go back to the first posts. Go back two years. You'll see how he really is. Annie likes when he rattles on in Old Castillian. Says he reminds her of the dad in them Spy Kids movies. 


Doctor Franklin says they should lay low for a while. So everybody's staying over at the Bureau. Annie likes it. The yeti lets her fix his hair. She's got him in French braids, cornrows and everything. As long as they got aroma candles and booze the vampires are happy. And they fix char-broiled chopped steak (with onions and gravy) for Edith and wilkravitz. Everything's honky-dory. 


Last night the Russian-vampire-bastid killed two guys at the U.N.. I guess it wasn't so honky-dory for them.....

This is Zebulon (the two thousand year old, disembodied spirit of a thirteen year old boy) signing off. I wanna see how the yeti looks in dreadlocks.


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supposed to be a line of sharks' jaws indicative of violence yet to come... forgive limited graphics knowledge.


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