Sunday, May 31, 2026
EVIL CLOWN IN THE WASHING MACHINE
My step father was a big and imposing man who almost always had an angry countenance and was quick to explode into a shouting rant that was so loud your ears would ring. If something seemed good and fun like the time when I was ten years old and we stayed down the Jersey Shore, he made it sickening and ugly so much so I just wanted to go home because I was so embarrassed and ashamed of being in this twisted family with a screaming maniac.
My stepfather enjoyed watching the World War II documentaries with the Nazis and the death camps which was awkward because my family came from a Jewish background. He thought it was hilarious giving me the Hitler salute and I just thought he was a big fucking asshole though at the time, there was nothing I could do about it.
I was always hoping my mother would divorce him, but even after he lost his job my mother told me she had no intention of leaving him even though he was out of work, an alcoholic and an abusive husband who regularly beat my mother and trashed our home. My mother called the cops on me a number of times, but she never called the cops on the guy who slapped her, punched her in the face and broke her glasses, and threw her against the wall and made her cry every week.
My step father said he knew karate and acted like a tough guy, but I saw him in a fight getting his ass kicked by three 19 year olds and heard some local business owner and his son kicked his ass for good measure. I even kicked his ass at 17 despite all his supposed karate training.
One moment I remember is when I was 12 or 13, there was a periodic beeping downstairs in the washroom and we were all afraid to go down there. I said, "What if there is an evil clown downstairs with a horn blowing to get us to go downstairs into his trap?"
With disgust my stepfather went downstairs and you could hear him moving around until the sound of a beep resonated and he came running up the stairs terrified and I could not help but burst out laughing. Later, I went downstairs alone and found out the beeping was due to a low battery on a smoke alarm, not a maniacal clown with a circus horn bent on murder.
It turns out the only person my stepfather could beat up was my mother and even the idea of a homicidal circus clown in our washing room scared him to distraction.
That is what they call the banality of evil.
VOCABULARY WITH VLADVAMPIRELORD: DUMSHED
When you start loud ranting in the morning within two feet of a sleeping male that professes to being a vampire.
VOCABULARY WITH VLADVAMPIRELORD: MUCKFUCKING
When you introduce an item meant to create efficiency and make life easier and the passive aggressor sabotages that item to make it no longer useful.
For example, I recently bought a hamper that has sections for black, white and color laundry printed on the front and LADY MORGANA turned it backwards so you can't see the labeling.
Saturday, May 30, 2026
A LESSON IN PASSIVE AGGRESSION PART 2 : ACTING HURT WHEN YOU CALL THEM OUT FOR PASSIVE AGGRESSION
I just reminded LADY MORGANA that I do not do PASSIVE AGGRESSION and prefer direct aggression which will be unmistakeable when you see it. I also advised LADY MORGANA that if she chooses war that things are going to get a lot more fucked up around here as I may just say I am cleaning the floor and then take a shit on it.
A LESSON IN PASSIVE AGGRESSION: BATH TOWEL FOUL
I mentioned to LADY MORGANA that we should try to clean out our closets and she for once agreed. So I am walking by and there are all these bath towels on the floor and I ask what this is all about. She says she is cleaning the closets, but I say that the "clean" towels are on a "dirty" floor. LADY MORGANA insists that the floor is "clean" and will entertain the subject no further.
This kind of thing angers me because I do not do "Passive Aggression." I prefer the direct approach, but apparently LADY MORGANA is the high priestess of mind fuckery and passive aggressive warfare and the more I examine her tactics the further enraged I feel.
My options are limited in how I deal with this because when I bring up the subject with LADY MORGANA she just denies everything then begins gaslighting me with other bullshit.
Extremely frustrating and apparently an ongoing tactic from LADY MORGANA.
VLADVAMPIRELORD'S VOCABULARY LESSON: CORRODED
When I was in first grade I loved girls which was not a thing you wanted to say at the time as you would get a thorough beat down as being a sissy. So I pretended I did not like girls and made up a meaningless word for them which I am not sure where I got it, but calling them "corroded" caused an explosion of anger and resentment that swelled to a point that the teacher forced me to stop saying the word and write it 100 times on the blackboard, even staying after school to finish the cruel punishment.
The next day in the school yard I called the girls corroded and they said they were going to kiss me so I ran away, but not fast enough that they couldn't catch me and I got kissed by every girl in the first grade, some more than once.
It was all worth it and one of the high low points in my life. To this day I still love women, though I am not loved in return to the same degree. If I called a woman corroded now, I would have my blog taken down, be fired from my job, and be made persona non grata, which I pretty much already am.
How times have changed.
Friday, May 29, 2026
GHOSTS?
Today, I found the bathroom door closed and locked with nobody in there. This is the second time this happened. In order to do this you would have to lock the bathroom door and not close it then exit and close the door behind you.
Very unlikely, but more likely than a demonic spirit occupying my bathroom.
I had to use a screwdriver to open the door. It was the best screw I've had in a long time.
I was taught the following song in first grade. I never forgot it.
A LESSON IN PASSIVE AGGRESSION: CONSIDERING
When I was 6 years old my mother would take us to the store and every now and then we would meet this older lady by chance who I thought seemed nice and she would tell my mother, "You have such wonderful kids, considering."
I did not know where my mother knew this woman from, but I knew my mother had a strong dislike for her and after all these years I suddenly figured out why. The woman was not saying we were wonderful kids. She was saying considering my mother as a parent and her mistakes or misfortune in the past, it was wonderful we turned out as fucked up as we did because it could have been a lot worse.
So now I reconsidered 50 years later and I finally understand.
PEOPLE IN MY GENERATION SAY NEW MUSIC IS JUNK
That could be said of any generation, but if you open your eyes and you keep an open mind while exploring the entirety of new music you will be shocked to find otherwise.
DEEP THOUGHTS WITH VLADVAMPIRELORD
A man needs three things to be happy. Good home cooking, good home loving and good home fucking. A woman is more complex.
Thursday, May 28, 2026
VLADVAMPIRELORD'S TRUE RAVEN STORY
I was 19 or 20 living in my toxic home with my mother and stepfather. I had just exhausted an attempt to block everything out at home by shutting myself in my room and my Mother called the cops on me. I almost got a four or five cop beat down for my troubles and after that I could no longer shut myself in and barricade myself in my room so I punched a hole through the door and instead of a nice sturdy door I got a pressed wood replacement that barely hung on the hinges for my effort. After everything up to that point, I thought nothing could surprise me with all the crazy bullshit going down on the regular, but I was wrong.
I was in my room watching television when I heard my mother screaming frantically. "What's wrong!" I shouted thinking the worst.
"There's a bird in the house!" She yelled as she came running down the hall and just as she passed I saw a dark raven flying towards me and then circle the kitchen before turning back into the living room.
I told my mother to close all the doors which eventually trapped the raven in the kitchen where it perched above the refrigerator on some cereal boxes. I grabbed a sheet from the bathroom cabinet and threw it over the raven and had it trapped within it before I carried it onto the front porch and opened the sheet to free it. I thought I heard a flutter, but as I lowered the sheet and looked around I could no longer see the raven flying or any evidence of the raven for that matter. It just disappeared it seemed.
For some time I wondered where the raven came from and I figured it was the twisted old guy upstairs trying to nurse the ailing raven to health which then flew through the back door of our home when my mother opened it.
Life is full of stupid insanity and inane surprises and just when you become numb to it all, some really crazy bullshit goes down like a raven flying into your home.
Really.
VLADVAMPIRELORD'S TRUE TYPE O NEGATIVE STORY
At this job I was working at, we had an hour lunch break so I used to drive a town over looking at storefronts. I found this strange looking store where they sold used cassettes for half price among other oddities which allowed me to take chances on bands and music with my limited funds which I would not ordinarily do.
One day I saw the album cover of BLOODY KISSES and was instantly attracted by the visuals of a vampiric scene with two women kissing. I had never heard of the band TYPE O NEGATIVE, but I was willing to see what they were all about. Needless to say, I bought the album and did not regret my decision or look back.
A Spectral Fantasy
After the fall, I waited for your Winter glow
But you never came
A ghost in the frigid cold
I could not see nor hear you
But felt you in a dream
When Halloween beckoned
Your Silence was felt again and again
Like Edgar Allen Poe's
Nevermore
Spring came and went
Without ceremony
Summer burned and died
Without you
I left the door open anyway
Mirrors in my brain reflect
What could have been
Wicked memories cloud my vision
When I awake bleary eyed and hungry
My body seeking fleeting ecstasy and nymphomaniac flesh
It all disappears in the light
Except the orgasmic sound
Echoing to mock it all
The fool I've been
Nighttime is a bitter dirge
A funeral of the mind
Memories are tombstones lodged in the brain
Hard, but fickle
Too emotional to touch
I cannot hold your luscious body in my arms
Just love you within a song
The wages of Sin bite hard, but leave no mark
You can discern
In the darkness I observe you
Clearly before you fade
Like dust into air
Wind into the distance
Water into a stream
Down a sewer drain
Some claim it was never there
But this love I know was real
My heart aches for your toxic
Beautiful Nothingness
Spiritually dispersed
Entombed within
A spectral fantasy.
Wednesday, May 27, 2026
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