V.J. Frankenstein’s diary

Hanging with a vampire isn’t easy (especially when they are in bat form), yet add to that dating vamp royalty, and you’ve got a mess.  And I don’t mean blood and guts, although if you’re kissing a vampire, you do usually get a little nick on your tongue or lip.  What I do mean, is that the Dracula line, has all these protocols and some of them date back to ancient times, at least the 1700s.  French Revolution and all that stuff with “off with their heads” and “let them eat cake,” of course the vampires weren’t the ones asking for the cake, just the heads.  

Anyway, dating Dagan Dracula Jr. has be minding my “Ps” and “Qs” and if that isn’t bad, what is?  I mean, never have I ever used such old fashioned language, but hey, the old royal pain-in-the-neck Dracula, is rubbing off on me.  Next thing I know, I’ll be wearing poodle skirts and a beehive hairdo, or at least a scarlet ribbon around my neck.  But I guess it’s true love.  Yep, I’m in love the baddest of bad vampires, Dracula’s grandson.  So that means next week I’ll be riding in a coach and buggy, no kidding, around Central Park to celebrate “Taking a Bite from the Big Apple’s Population.”  It’a a vampire royal affair, complete with dress costumes like big white wigs, crinoline’s as big around as a small car and lots of black capes and flashing, but fashionable fangs.  Hope to see you there.   

Thought I’d do an entry from the main character in

Dating Dracula Jr.