Monday, May 14, 2012

LITTLE BASTID ANNIE WITH THE MOLE PEOPLE

I'm probably like seven or eight years old now. I don't know. 'Papa' says I was six years old when he made me.  But funny monsters were always tryin' to scare me. Edith thinks I was always like this. She says I'm an old soul... like Old King Cole... No, he was a merry old soul. I guess that means  he was like Santa Claus. I ain't never seen no Santa Claus. Saw a dead one once. But they told me he was only one of the 'helpers.' Saw him laying on a whole bunch a shitty stuff back a the Lord & Taylor department store. Guess his elves couldn't do nothin'. The one I saw got hisself all shot up. One bullet went inside like where one of his titties was. The other broke through to the inside of his head. He wasn't actually all the way dead when I saw him. But Papa felt sorry, so he bent down and did the vampire thing. Five heartbeats later, the completely dead Santa Claus went 'whoosh!' Then he shot up into blue fires and disappeared. Ain't nobody seen it, 'cause we was out real late. All he left was some fake teeth . I thought they were like snapping clam things. You know, like what Spanish ladies dance with. But Papa wouldn't let me keep 'em. Said they were dirty, so he kicked 'em down the sewer and took me home. That was when we was living on Glengary Road. I liked that house. It was big. It was in Chestnut Hill. There was a kid next door. I used to like her. She couldn't do no magic vampire shit, but I used to play with her. Not when it was daytime. Like for sleep-overs and shit. Her mom fed her shitty pizza. I don't eat no pizza, but I still knew that was bad. Do you think I say 'shit' too much? Tomas does. He gets mad when I say it. Then he starts talkin' some oingo-boingo talk real fast. I think it's Spanish. But I only talk this talk. Papa talks to me all kind a crazy ways. But I tell him - Go to hell, you crazy bitch you. I don't know what you're sayin'!....... Then he just sits down, makes like I'm invisible and starts reading something.


We gonna go live with the mole people. It's safer down there. They live in like these tunnels down under where the subway goes. It's a secret. Nobody knows. Some cops know. They used to creep down and kick all the people out sometimes. But now we give 'em money, so they leave us alone. Sarah don't like it. But she  does it 'cause Tomas tells her. They vampires. Everybody I mostly tells you about is vampires. Edith ain't no vampire though. She just a fat, old lady from New Jersey who knows how to do 
spooky stuff. Sometimes she scares me. I tell her to go to hell. 


They got all kind a hidey-holes down them tunnels. We get water, like for washin' and all, from these old pipes. The humans make some kind a stew outta cooked rats. I like to watch 'em make it, but I can't eat none. Sometimes I  bite off somebody's toe though. But I never swallow it. I don't do it for food. I just do it for fun.


See, the best thing 'bout livin' with them mole people is we don't have to go sleep in the daytime, 'cause down there, there ain't no daytime. So I can play and play and play. Hide and seek's my favorite. Two  times I found these old, brown skeletons. But they don't dance around like the ones in cartoons (we steal 'lectricity from old wires). The kind I find just lay there and smile.


I like the dark. Two days (or nights...I don't know) from now, I gonna go kill somebody. That's how I get food. And Papa says I'm what you call a big eater.


Know what my favorite song is?.... It's The Teddy Bears Picnic..... When you go out on the streets tonight, you're in for a big surprise. I learned it from Tomas. He likes to whistle it all the time.


Look, I gotta go now. Aura and Sylvia (they two mole ladies) need me to help them shave they legs. I think one a them  got killed once. But this is another lady what got the same name.


They got a lot a crazy shit like that down here....... Whoops! I said it again.... tee-hee-hee......


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Sunday, May 13, 2012

NOT A TITLE---JUST SOME WELL MEANT DIRECTIONS ---SCROLL AROUND AND EXPLORE

WAS BROWSING THROUGH THE VAULT AND DISCOVERED SOME OF OUR EPISODES HAVE NEVER BEEN SEEN BY HUMAN EYES. YOU MIGHT BE THE  FIRST. (that is, if you're human). Leave COMMENTS about vampire encounters of your own. You know the score - We only PRETEND that this is fiction...

If JIMMY FALLON does it, we can too...

CLICK ON THE POST YOU SEE RIGHT BELOW THIS. WE PLUGGED IT IN ONCE BEFORE, BUT THIS TIME I MADE IT TRUER..... MWAH! I LOVE YOU!...

vampire wonderland: THIS IS NOT A POST-----this is wilkravitz

vampire wonderland: THIS IS NOT A POST-----this is wilkravitz: It's daytime, human lunchtime. No vampires are around. I'm not sure where they are, but no one is channeling anything through me right now....

Saturday, May 12, 2012

Snug Little Porch in the Haunted New Jersey Pines

Yoo hoo, it's me. It's Edith. We haven't talked much lately. All that parallel universe stuff gave me a headache. I'm glad the aliens we have here in our own universe are more discreet. I mean they do diddle with us, only they fix it so we don't remember much. Like a date rape drug for extraterrestrial species. And in this case, we are them what comes from someplace else.


Right now I am back in the Pines. It's pretty. The air is soft and damp. Everything smells like artificially scented all purpose cleaner, only it ain't artificial. It's for real. You probably catch a glimpse of the fringes of my world as you race down toward the seashore. But I bet you ain't never seed the real Pines. None a them big roads  gonna get you here. Gotta sneak in through a skinny, old, unpaved access road, like what the fire-fighters use when the forest gets lit up. Dumb kids is what does it. No 'Piney' would ever do that. Hurt too much, like burnin' a nipple right off your tittie.


At this time (1:37a.m.) I am settin' out on this little side porch we got. Opens up off the kitchen. Not big, maybe five by seven feet. That's all. My hubby-man, Mister   Edith, jimmy-jammed it for me. It is like a tiny nook built into the side of the house. Got a roof and everything. Like lookin out an open window, right into the dark maw of the forest. Hell, ain't but twenty feet a clearing 'tweet us and them trees. Any hoo-doo they got walkin' 'round in there could run up here in no time. I do got a nice. strong, painted wood balustrade, but what that gonna do? Scary shit know  how to jump too, you know.


Mister Edith inside. He sleepin. Got them quilts wrapped all 'round him. Probably got that little radio stuck in his ear, listening to that all night, call in, 'how you get rid a ghosts and sasquatch' show. Don't them dumb assholes know you can't get rid a no ghosts and night-runners? All you can do is make friends with 'em.


I see 'em out there all the time. Bought liquor from a half-caste big foot once. But his feet weren't so big. Wore a nice, little pair a 'Chuckies' actually. 'Cept for that, he was all naked, not countin' the fur, I mean. Stepped out a the woods one cold, fall night. Smiled. Held up the jar. Swished it around a little. I said - You brew that yourself?........ He nod his head. Grin some more. I got out my red, leather lady-wallet and give him two bucks. Everybody know they got good recipe. Sort a like gin, or some funny kind a vodka. Taste like acorns too, a little bit. Real good. Some folks say they pees in it. But I don't think so. 'Specially not them half-castes. Never did touch him, though. Just held out the money. He pinch the other end. I let go. He set down the jar and we done did business.


I like settin' on that porch. Wrap myself up in a couple sweaters, turn out the light and jus' look. Seen an all burnt up ghost once. No, twice. I seen it twice. Come right up to the balustrade and look right at me. Don't say nothin'. Don't move. Just stand and look. Must a been a right painful way to die. Eyelids all gone. Skin all fallin' off. Hair all bald-headed, frizzy-like. And the lips..... Well, there wern't no lips. Don't ask me if it puppy or kitty. I can't tell. Everything burned clear off. Stayed there for a long time, almost til the sun come up. I did want to go use the toilet, but I was a little bit scared. Not  so much scared, as disoriented. So I just sit there, squeezin' all the parts a my groin together, til it vanish right into the cool, dawn air. 


Gonna go back with Tomas and them others soon. Vampires like my witchy powers. They got they own versions. But ain't nothin' like a real Jersey Pines, Pow-Wow Woman. Wanna find out? I gonna send you a dream. Don't know if it drip in a your head tonight or tomorrow night. But you gonna have it. And you gonna know.... You gone know real good.


I prefer passin' summers wit' them vampires, 'cause Edith do suffer from the prickly heat. And they do got good air conditioning...


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Friday, May 11, 2012

Sitting on The Cold, Night Sand With Vampires in May

wilkravitz is not typing this tonight. I, Tomas, am doing it on a small communicating device belonging to my beautiful, vampirina, friend, Baylah.... She is the one who resembles the singer, known as Beyonce.  Sarah, my beloved enamorada is beside me too. For those of you requiring 'visuals,' she favors a young Susan Sarandon. I, Tomas, still bear a striking, though improved similarity to a young and muy guapo Antonio Banderas. But many of you know this already.


We sit on the beach. It is almost 2am on a chill, May dark-time. I will tell you exactly where we are, since you will not believe me anyway. We are under the Margate pier, hidden amongst the weathered wood pilings, staring out at the silvery, moon-kist waves.  I  can see the bright lights of the Atlantic City 'Babylon' a few leagues to the left. In your talk, that would be perhaps five miles. 


The cold, dark shadows comfort me. We sit bundled in sweaters pilfered from the lover of Baylah's house. It is the big white one just off the beach. He is not here. The lover of Baylah is in a casino attempting to satisfy internal longings with copious wads of American currency. Sometimes he is successful...but not too often. She did not want to accompany him, although she does enjoy playing cards. But tonight is her 'period,' so she did not go. 


Now, of course you know vampirinas do not excrete excess viscous fluids upon the full moon. But they do something else..... They kill people. And not always on a full moon. Tonight is not a full moon. But it is 'her time.' .... And she has the 'entree' all picked out. It is a casino host, who has impoverished many a once-well-fixed old dowager. He butters them up (and licks it all off too, for all I know). He gives them free buffet dinners and cooked pieces of meat served in rooms with elaborate chandeliers. Sometimes he allows them to laugh at the burblings of ancient and near dead jowly comedians. Apparently that is a much valued thing to old dowagers. And then, when their money is all gone and the fifty five year old children are sick with disgust, he forgets their very names. But we remembered his. And approximately forty two hundred heartbeats from how, the thing that beats beneath his ribs will cease to function. Baylah will kill him, as Sarah and I watch and laugh. 


I like the Jersey Shore. I like running my fingers deep into the moist, rough-powdery sand. Sometimes I find little squirmy organisms. Sand crabs, they call them.... small, white, turtle-like things.... for they do have flippery feet. I hold them up to my face...feel the feathery tickles on my palm and toss them into the sea. Oh, they survive....at least I'm told they do. Maybe I'll keep the casino host's fine gold, wristwatch after. You know, I do have quite a nice collection. Sarah has dibs on the diamond stick pin. I'm sure Baylah will walk away with a trophy or two.


Sarah wants to see Kathy Griffin. We have two ducats for one of her performances. The lover of Baylah procured them for us. I believe they're down in front. Maybe I will flash her my fangs. Oh, do not envision big, gross, cow teeth. Noble vampires have no such thing. Mine are beautiful, small, well-formed and sharp...like what a cat would have if it were my size. I wonder how she will react.....


Do we know the 'enemy' stalks our city? Of course we do. But this is a vacation. 'High Noon' comes soon enough....


Though it is a pity that 'Papa' did not join us.....


Please remember that all of these communications form a 'whole.' They are 'bones' in a story. If you desire to learn more, scroll down.... or just 'Google' the title --- Vampire Wonderland by Billy Kravitz...... That is my 'familiar,' wilkravitz' actual name. He masquerades as the 'author,' because, as  you know, we only pretend that this is fiction...


Look for me in The Borgata two hours hence. I will know who you are.....


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