Chilling Shilling

I return to you good objects of my devourment to report back on the Horrors of Ebay.

Okey-dokey, Dracula knows selling rare heirlooms and crusade plunder is risky business, but he shocked at the malign Subterfuges and Tricksy methods employed by undignified bidders. But Dracula wanted to show good faith by opening bids low on his previously unknown Bosch masterpiece. Then he bombarded with idiot questions by human fools who ask "Can we have a scan of the painting to validate it's existence and authenticity?" and "Are you for real?" I prove puny human mortals who is for real if they dare show their sallow sheep's faces in my forests after dark! I rip their faces from their skull and create magic lantern spectacles with the skins!

Dracula not know what this scan is, but he wonder if might be new American word for picture. So he sketch out a copy of what it look like and offer to send to anyone who interested. But what with one day auction, no one interested. Pity as Dracula use fresh virgin blood and sketch looks very interesting. A little derivative but what you expect in two hours?

So, no biddings on Unique painting until very last five minutes. Then flurry of Interest, someone called Brian Seewill bidding against a 'V. Helsing'. I haf my suspicions but Dracula not know how to block bidders! Seewill man lost out and bombards Dracula with annoying girly emails like "Oh, I'm so very cross with myself, naughty naughty Brian, because I inadvertently hit the abort button when I wanted to bid after dropping my eau de cologne on the keyboard, but please, please, please, I beg of you, do sell me the picture anyway. I am quite sure that the other fellow is a low common Philistine who wouldn't appreciate it anyway. I am a fine art critic - I deserve it!"

Dracula know what annoying man deserve and next time he in Hampstead he make sure Mr Seewill get it. He haf greater honour than to cheat correct winner; besides, Dracula frightened Ebay cancel his account if he not follow puny human rules. Anyways, unique Bosch picture sold for £25 English Pounds which I recall from my days in Highgate a few years ago is handsome sum. Now I haf funds to pay for sweetmeats and pot pourri for special visitors, the beautiful Carmilla and her strangely affectionate handmaidens Germaine and Lesbia. Oh, and that washed-out old hag Lizabeth B.

I send peasant servant on horseback to deliver picture to England; Dracula promise to return his young son if he make journey in one week. (Though D. no say if he return son alive......). Helsing fellow - surely Kinsman to Dracula's arch enemy Van Helsing - he promises to send a Pay Pal, so presumably he sending close friend to me with monies. Is sweet. I shall sup on Helsing pal's blood and make discoveries about his Master's true identity.

Dracula also now troubled with mouth ulcer after snagging cheek on wobbly tooth. He throw servant over castle walls who grind up old Remedie in pestle and mortar which uses garlic - fool! Instead Dracula use jelly called Bonjela, most effecacious.

Rained heavy last night, land around castle flooded. Dracula haf problems crossing water so tonight may have to order takeaway from local tavern. Always silly girls around who prepared to visit castle hoping for monies and good times. Dracula haf deal with innkeeper. Innkeeper keep inn if he help out Dracula. What can the Prince Of Darkness do when his lazy human tenants fall behind on rents? Empty tavern no good to him. Look at Karnstein and their empty ghost village - what use is this?

(Dracula urge blog readers to read DRACULA'S GUEST for more informatives on this subject.)

Ah, has been busy workings selling on Ebays. But tomorrows or later perhaps Dracula try selling his old record player, all vinyl thingies having warped after Daughters of the Night left them out in sun.

D.

Courtship and Ebay

Another terrible night - and not just toothache, which is getting worster and worster. Dracula busy ironing spare cape when doorbell ring; he forced to answer it, who else is there? My Daughters of the Night too lazy, always playing loud music in their bedchamber, not hear thunder let alone doorbell. So Dracula traipse down four staircases to answer door – is only Mrs Hilspringer, damned village gossip, come to collect donations for church fete! I, Dracula, Prince Of Darkness and Slayer Of Souls, what do I care for blasted church fete? Then I smelt burning – Dracula’s only spare cape scorched under the iron he had so foolishly left face down on the garment!

Still Mrs Hilspringer not go. “Surely, Herr Count, you have some spare bits and bobs you don’t need anymore?” she ask, poking her big fat nose through my threshold to look about in my passages. Infernal woman! If she not diabetic with nasty high sugar he would kill her on the instant! I would rather spend a day at noisy theme park with that fool Renfield than drink this old hag’s blood.

“What about that?” she ask, pointing to a priceless Monk’s table, carved in finest rosewood and stuffed with - yes, I admit - real monk cadavers. Impudent crone! Just because Dracula forget to dust his antiques for a century or two, pestering peoples think Dracula not want them. I no ‘shake n’ vac’ charwoman – I am Count Dracula, Prince Of Evil!

I give Mrs Hilspringer two rubbishy Okea ottomans full of clothes, all various sizes, all locally made. Some I even haf washed but local water is hard and blood stains often tricky to shift. She is ungrateful and disrespectful – pah! How I loathe peasant locals! The hag even has temerity to ask if Dracula would please to have sponges thrown at his face by children at the fete – me, Lord of the Night, play role of stupid clown for church charity! Never!

Dracula slam door in her ugly pig face.

(Later. )

Dracula just sitting down to dinner when telephone rings. I leave anxious peasant girl in trance to answer the Infernal Thing only to discover it Liz Bathory! How I wish Dracula’s answer-machine was not playing up! (Note to Harker: check Argosi for new telephone answer-machine. Gothic retro if poss. D.)

What can Dracula say about Countess Elizabeth Bathory that hasn’t already been bled? She is yet another Impossible Woman, a bossy Hungarian version of Hattie Jacques, like in those quaint old English hospital films. She waltz around East Europe like she own place, cadging freebies here, cadging freebies there, leaving only when all local peasants dried up. She empty cellar and servants quarters quicker than whole marauding army!

"I hear my niece Carmilla is coming to visit you," she say. Yes, Dracula reply; the Count is hoping to woo the voluptuous C but he promise not to kill her. At least, not before honeymoon. "But I am Carmilla’s guardian," says the Odious Creature, "and you must convince me of your evil intentions and great personal wealth. I intend to accompany Carmilla when she visits you: does Dracula have any objections?"

Of course Dracula haf objections! He seethes with objection! Tonight ten puny humans will die to appease the anger of his objections! I drag them by wild horses and then crucify their torn bodies on crosses of thorn! (The Count is merely eulogising poetically and has no real intention of carrying out such wanton acts of criminal barbarity. J. Harker, Web Counsel.)

Alas Dracula must show respect to this Bloated Hag, this Vampire Sponge, so he bites his lip – hmm, is not so bad….! – and he invites the vile Countess B with a warmth that is purest duplicity.

“Please come and partake of my Hospitality,” Dracula replies with suave charm. “You are always velcome in my modest little castle, dearest Lizabeth.”

Pesky woman then says she will send list of requirements to Dracula, luxuries he must procure but which she shall not pay for. Hateful leech! How Dracula supposed to source lavender scented ‘pot pourri’ and free range leather-manacles in darkest Transylvania? He only has stupid Slovaks as personal shoppers, and they even dribble when they talk! No, Dracula must take stagecoach into City, and visit big industrial shopping zone, and procure purchases himself. Bah! Dracula so angry he can’t even eat. Peasant girl seem happy though.


(Later. )

News from Dracula’s bank Barclavskis not so good. Value of plundered gold less these days so Dracula went overdrawn beyond limit. Worst, they say he did so without permission. Dracula requires permission for nothing! Puny human bank manager then charges Dracula for a 'return to drawer'. What is this pesky 'return to drawer?'

I swoop down on his house at midnight and, after draining his twitching body of blood, I return him to drawer – chest of drawer, squished in like concertina! (Count, I would humbly remind you of the litigation pending viz-a-viz the netball team and PC Worldski. J. Harker, Web Counsel.)

Dracula now haf to sell few old Masters or antiques to make ends meet. His precious heirlooms! But Dracula have no experience selling things. Touching money is Vile, no great Prince of this house should be thus dishonoured. But needy is mustness, as they say in England, land of law and last orders, and Dracula haf little choice. The only choice he has is which Stuff to sell, and for how much, and where.

Dracula cannot decide between Ebay or car-boot sale. On one hand - this peasant hand I use as candle holder in fact, ha ha ha - Dracula has no car, only carriage. Furthermore, car-boot sale is in morning, when light. Worst, Dracula haf to haggle with commoners wearing cheap lycra ski-pants, all stuffing their faces with fat overcooked beefyburgers. Pah - never! No, Dracula must use Ebay.

(Later.)

Dracula now tell you about Ebay. Is vile place - vile! I register to join Ebay, filling in multiple questions in correct manner, all taking valuable drinking time. Then when I go to choose user name, I find 'Dracula' already taken! Name of my Fathers, despoiled and cheapened by some car salesman from Ukraine! So I email Ebay and demand to know address of this other Dracula, so I can go throttle the life out of his puny mortal body. They say no, confidentiality must be maintained. Say no, to me? I rage about the castle for one hour and only find solace in thrashing my Daughters of the Night with their favourite flail, then find I must Log On once more and complete annoying form all over again.

I do it anyway. Not only must Dracula find monies to pay for luxuries for Carmilla and her infernal guardian the Countess B, Dracula has annual vet bill for castle wolves to pay. All need innoculation for worms and outbreak of Bulgarian fleas is very bad this year. Some say it is mild winter but I say it is that villain Van Helsing!

I create new user name: Vlad The Most Terrible, Impaler Of Children And Tormentor Of All Mankind. I think it good choice, and will create correct impression amongst potential customers. Then Dracula lists his most valuable piece, unknown painting by very young Hieronymus Bosch, a superb portrait of Dracula standing on mountain of dead Turkish soldiers, the setting sun bleached red with the blood of his slaughter. I start bidding at one American dollar on advice of Ebay FAQ, also no reserve. I hope it sell well. If not, Dracula was careful to state that buyer must collect.....ha ha ha. Anyways, auction is one day auction, because Dracula needs money and cannot wait one week. Who is knowing, by this Time tomorrow I could have chests of jewels and High Interest Tracker Account!

D.

Loneliness and Friends Reunited

Cut myself shaving again. Bad start to the night. Mended cut with Happy Shopper tissue – is rubbish I tell you, rubbish! Flimsy one ply whisps of vapid tissuement – an insult to the House of Dracul!

How lonely it is being Last of Great Race. Sometimes I roam along castle walls as clouds scud overhead in famous Transylvanian moonlight mourning the end of my noble line. I mean I, Count Dracula, mourn end of noble line, not clouds. Ha! Is ridiculous – clouds cannot mourn! What fool dared to suggest otherwise? I shall pickle his lymphocytes and eat them on Walpurgis Night!

Dracula is glad parents all dead or else they criticise him for not bringing new baby vampires into world. Parents give Dracula hard enough time over college grades without his being harassed for impoten- erm, he mean, inability to find right girl. Alas the Count spend too much time in student union bar drinking the medical student girls – ahh, good times! - and he wasted priceless opportunity to learn basic business skills, skills which would haf enabled him to develop Dracula Inc into a modern day company which might interest right girl. Instead the unskilled and unloved Dracula finds himself imprisoned in remote Transylvanian castle, Prince of little but Darkness. But how different it all might haf been with NVQ or HND in Rural Land Management!

In loneliness Dracula joins – no, the Shame is too great to bear. But this is Blog! One must be honest in Blog, for if not honest in Blog, what else is Blog for? In loneliness Dracula joins…..Friends Reunited.

There. Shame is out, like a sheep's head displayed in a butchers shop. Laff if you vill! I shake my fist defiantly and be warned that if I find your miserable little addresses, I, Count Dracula, vill visit your house and suck you dry as a husk!

But is perhaps good, Friends Reunited site. Dracula amazed to discover many old acquaintances already registered and hafing fun without him. In particular I happy to see Carmilla’s name listed. Ah, Carmilla…red as a rose and twice as succulent. We could have happy hunting together I think. I recall one occasion when during rehearsals for school play she allowed Dracula to kiss her….no, this is Private Matter, not for Blog.

However, though she not close relative, Carmilla might still make good partner for Dracula, if only he could understand why she appears so strangely disinterested in marriage. Perhaps Dracula must get to bottom of this mystery. So, I invite her to spend few days here, at Castle Dracula, next month – and she has agreed! Cousin Carmilla will travel by stagecoach when the moon is high, accompanied by her faithful attendants Lesbia and Germaine. Dracula not know these, but they sound interesting. Perhaps they tell Dracula why Carmilla so dead set against matrimony.

Dracula also observed that old school enemy Van Helsing is registered with Friends Reunited. Pah! We still not forgive him for grassing up Dracula to sixth form head over curious mystery of netball team disappearance, even though Helsing had no evidence. How can he – Dracula destroy all evidence and clean up all stains!

The Count notes with much Scepticism that Van Helsing claim to be successful Harley Street surgeon and recipient of Nobel Prize For Medicine. Tish! I, Count Dracula, I tell you I suspect Van Helsing lies just to attract girls and show off just like at school. Same old pattern, again and again. He gets made Head Prefect, Dracula spend year on naughty report for ‘weird behaviour’. He made captain of rugby team, Dracula made to pick up playground litter.

Dracula could almost wish Van Helsing dead such is the Power of his Jealou- ahem, the Power of his Hatred and Anger.

God griefs, earlier tonight I receive email from the tiresome Renfield, also registered at Friends Reunited, asking how is Dracula and do I remember old days and does Dracula fancy coming to a Class Reunion he is organising? Bah – spineless imbecile! Puny human fodder! Me, proud nobleman, reunionise with him, loathsome creature that he is?

Renfield still goes babble babble babble about flies and spiders and birds and cats! Why is he not moving on with life? There is whole wide world of bigger things to eat out there, why just sup from gutter prey? Talentless lackey – I shall make him do my bidding and then cast him aside like crumpled cigarette box. Ha ha!

“About You” asked the Friends Reunited website. I must fill in some sentences telling world what Dracula achieved since last eight centuries. In one box! How can they expect Important Person’s life achievements to be crippled into one tiny white box like a squashed up dead person who I drank earlier! It is modern day madness and Disrespectful to the once prouder House Of Dracul. My Glories and Triumphs should be carved into the blackest of Carpathian marble with tools crafted from the thigh bones of twenty Rumanian virgins! Instead, Dracula is reduced to a few witty reminiscences about ‘the old days’ in very humiliating attempt to appeal to old school-friends.

But Dracula shall haf his Revenge – he will kill his old school-friends with swift, savage bite to jugular, and then guzzle upon their frothing crimson blood! (Please note that neither Count Dracula nor his Legal Counsel can be held in anyway responsible for any seemingly incriminating comments made in this Blog. All or any confessions made herein should not, per se, and habeas corpus, be treated as admissions of guilt. J. Harker, Web Counsel.)

Hokey-Dokey Night At Castle Dracula

In The Beginning....And Online Shopping

Where to begin? Why I do this Blog? Who is next meal?

These important questions tumble out my brain onto the pages like autumn leaves falling from my family’s now thinly populated forests. I, Dracula, I tell you that the time has come when important news from land beyond the forest must be documented because….because I am the Last of my Race. And, perhaps, my Time is near. I sense it. I sense it like – oh, the confession is hard one to bear – I sense it like a puny human senses death, scared of his own shadow.

Is it to be death by toothache? Oh, the ignominy! No dentist vill come within twenty leagues of Dracula’s demesne even though I, a man of noble - ok, also sometimes of bloodthirsty - parentage, I guarantee safe one way passage! Yet still they vill not come! Thus day by day I inch slowly towards my final tooth, the livid nerve in my upper right incisor as raw as uncooked turnip.

Opium may numb worst excess of pain; opium drank in fine vintage Cognac; Cognac my fathers were honoured with by Czar Nicholas III in return for assistance at Battle of the Carpathigans; Carpathigans my fathers subsequently devoured......oh dear, where was Dracula? Ah yes, opium: the balm vich makes toothache endurable.

(Note to Harker: need new supplier. Last one accidentally ......disappeared.)

Yet Dracula’s princely toothache sharpens mind, and drives need for Blog. Yes, I, Dracula, son of Dracul, Supreme Ruler of Wallachia, Transylvania and Highgate, I use pain and Blog to present Dracula’s case and to correct much Catholic inaccuracy. No one understands the Torments and Daily Humiliations that Dracula is subjected to. Once proud leader of nations of men, latterly just a few assorted creatures of the night, Dracula is now social Pariah, an Outcast, an Almost-Immortal with no Domain!

Example. Although Dracula's credit is good, local Tescovich refuses to deliver groceries and sundry consumables to Castle Dracula. “It too far out of delivery zone” plead spineless Area Manager. Delivery zone – pah! Dracula spits on delivery zone and abducts your eldest daughter. (Your Magnificent Countliness, I humble suggest we avoid public references to – erm – abductions and the like. J. Harker, Web Counsel.)

Tescovich happy to take Dracula’s money for internet connection; Tescovich quite content to allow Count to spend two hours sitting at keyboard carefully selecting weekly groceries; but when it come to delivery of Dracula’s housely consumables, Tescovich computer dare say no! How I rage! I rip computer from wall and hurl it over battlements to its miserable death below, smashing on rocks below like little puny human heads in Dracula’s clutch.

Six weeks it take for new computer to arrive. PC Worldski are very bad company who keep Dracula waiting so long. I may liff for nearly eternity but I still very impatient man! I think about sending Strongly Worded Letter to PC Worldski but instead avenge my name by ripping out heart of Chief Executive and feeding it to my three Daughters of the Night. They shriek gleefully as the hot blood courses down across their greedy chins onto their heaving and slightly exposed bosoms. I laugh out loud like a maniac as - (Please call me urgently about legal issues – J. Harker, Web Counsel.)

Because of Tescovich, Dracula now forced to rely on lazy Slovaks to bring shopping from once heavily populated local village. Yet those bumbling imbeciles cannot read! They cannot even count change correctly! Each week, they return with many coins less than should have, cheated by local shopkeeper, who still bears a stupid peasant grudge against Dracula for missing daughters. Dracula is laughing-stock to be treated so by mere tradesmen! Worse, lazy Slovaks ignore Dracula’s specific demands, and bring him same old items, week in, week out. Thus no aloe-vera lavatory paper, no latest Beano full of amusing British humours, no organic sun-dried tomatoes. Instead these peasant fools bring him Happy Shopper own brand product, cheap, nasty and falling apart to the touches!

It was not always so. Princes and Dukes would formerly send Dracula wagonloads of opulent consumables from four corners of the earth, prostrating themselves in Humility and Fear on the steps of my terrifying precipice. Dracula’s larder once overflowethed into the scullery, the dairy and even the dismemberment gallery, such was the Respect in which my proud family was held.

But now! Tsk! The small peoples of 'now' know no Respect; they haf grown ignorant and dishonourable in the face of ugly new wealth and Technology. They are not interested in old ways. They forget who they are, who they were, and most important, who used to once drink the blood of their forefathers.

D

Testing

I test my new Blog. It works well. Dracula is happy.

D