A Still Verry Merry Vampire Christmas
T’was the night before Vampire Christmas and all through Chet’s shitty little apartment (house) not a creature was stirring, not even his neighbor Pepe Ice’s Pitbull…”Mouse.”
(Apparently even those in ‘dat thug life have a sense of irony and humour.)
Nah, they really don’t, I made that all up for kicks…but it WAS kinda clever huh?
(Nod along and pretend you agree with the man with the adorable dimpled cheeks and the nasty sharp pointy fangs.)
Though I do have a neighbor named Pepe…somewhere in this building…not sure if he’s actually supposed to be living here or if he’s booty buddies with some old lady up in this hissous..but there ya go…
Sure, Vampires have Christmas too…I mean, does Santay Claus get locked in one of those FoodSaver Vacuum seal packages and frozen in your grocer’s freezer immediately on December 26th to insure he’s crispy fresh for next year?
Hell nooo kiddos!!
Santa’s got, like a whole other secret life selling Amway products and public school band candy franchises on the side to unsuspecting slackers and their unisexual band/shop/theatre teachers (He’s got a right jolly old elf PATENT on that annoying shit!!)
…so who sez Vampies only do stuff on Halloween?? If YOU did, you’re soooo getting pimp-slapped ANNND bitchslapped!!
(Strictly in the metaphorically philosophical sort of way, of course…)
Nope, no I really don’t get to spend much of my Yuletide with my ACTUAL family, seeing as how I once had the decency and all many moons ago to tell Mom and Dad about my little necking “accident” and…well…Pops has since banished me from the House of McNabb as it were.
But don’t cry for me Argentina (Jones) just yet…
(Though, you should be tempted…I mean what kinda Ghetto hoochie mamma was your mamma ta’name you after a whole danged country anyway?? Lemme guess, your baby brother’s named Djibouti Jackson?? HA!! )
But, yeah, we get all the Vamps together I know (plus other poor souls who I have no idea who the Hell invited them) and make are OWN patchwork Christmas!!
See, in the unlife, it’s kinda a necessity for those you meet over the centuries who share your same shameless sanguine “affliction” to stick together.
Even if your original kinfolks don’t know about your radical transformation, or if you tell them and by some truly buckwild miracle they DON’T disown you as an evil Hellspawn Vampirical buttplug of Beelzebub himself, you’ll still outlive everybody you know. Guaranteed.
Except Vampies…
(Oh and maybe…umm….the…Kurgan…and Connor McLeod of The Clan McLeod…and his sexy trenchcoat, bedhead, and white tenneys!!)
So, either on December the 24th or the 25th, we get together, Moi, Remmy, Trishipoo, Antoine, and a lot of other vampires at an undisclosed location (usually squatting like a bunch of adorable hobos and loiterers) and have our Christmas party.
We each contribute our own little “piece” to the puzzle. Remmy usually gives his 1000th rendition of his “old timer’s “ lecture on the true origins of Christmas…
“Chet my Young Blooded Friend, Did I ever tell you how when I was a kid Christmas wasn’t Christmas at all…but was about celebrating the god Sol Invictus??”
“(Trying not to sigh too deeply)YESSSSS …”
“….and there were the rituals of Mithras and one time my father…”
“Wrestled and killed a young crazy horny bull with his bare hands? Yeaaaap”
“Oh…well…uhhh… Hey! Did YOU KNOW…that the word Christmas is ACTUALLY an amalgam of two words first commonly used in the time what you modern fellows would call the ‘Middle Ages’ but I CALL ‘Yesterday’ a-hahaha (amused, laughing with himself)…”
“Christ Mass…Yeaap I got it…thanks Remmeister…good talk again this year!”
Antoine always remembers to bring a HUGE batch of AUTHENTIC New Orleans Bread Pudding and praline sauce that he whips up himself…and sings Christmas songs a’la the Louis Armstrong way.
I have my special spiked Egg Nogg recipe which I most secretly make while Remmy assists (and also INSISTS I hear his “bonus” Egg Nogg/Grogg story and about a Yule festival he spent in Iceland in 965 in the A.D.)
And then Trish takes us back to her English roots and for all who are willing after a few drinks (okay, maybe MORE than a few) on a wassailing run of her apartment building.
“…..We are not daily begg-ARS That beg from door to doooooor….But we are ye neighbors' chil-DREN….Whom ye hast seen be-FOOOOOORE!”
* Bangy-bang-bangs on the door with her little hands*
“OYYY!! Open’um up and share Christmas with us….OR ELSE!!”
It’s like caroling, only with a BIT more drunkeness and TP’ing involved.
Yeah, I suppose no matter how repetitive it all is (and how VERY likely it will probably all annoy me a little in a milenina or so) these traditions I spend with my pales…err..PALS of the night are fun and comforting.
But, I DO miss my blood kinfolks. (No pun intended.) Pops creating a masterpiece of a Christmas Turkey fresh off his bigass “competiton cookoff” grade grill. My big bro Doogie letting me help him read “The Night Before Christmas” to my wee nieces and nephews when they were little.
Which reminds me…Dayum…they’re what? Counts on his fingers Buddy H. CHRISSSST!! They ain’t so little anymore…Hell, Doug’s bound to have a grandkid (with a rattail) or two by now..
Hell. Maybe even my little LITTLE brother Harry Bates McNabb might be a grandpappy by now too… SHIIIT!!
Then there was little sis Pasty( Cline McNabb) and her singing…the only one in our clan who could honest-to-freaking-gawwd carry a tune effectively…maybe she really IS adopted (or a mutant!! HA!)
Then there was Momma and her Whiskey Cake…made with the most expensive Jim Bean Black she could commandeer from Pops’ liquor cabinet in the “Gun Room.”
(Because guns and fine aged liquor go together like peas and carrots people!!)
Ahh yes, a goood ol’Fashioned Texas family Christmas.
Momma always does seem to smuggle me out a “New Year’s Christmas” card with a photo of their get together inside anyway, despite my Father’s insistance on my excommunication….
…with notes like “Chester, You’re not forgotten” or “Once a Mother, always your Mother”
SNIFF SNIFF!
Hmm…maybe one day…when the Old Man finally bites it…I can come home…*sigh* Mayybe even bring a few of my friends along for the ride
And it’s even stranger in these times…how often I find myself thinking about my gigantor Amazon woman “creator.”
Her “Mum” is a Vamp too afterall. I wonder if she appreciates it…Remmy and Trishie’s parents, brothers, nieces, nephews, and bastard brothers cousins nieces and nephews turned to bone-dust in their graves a LOOoooooNG time ago.
Must be nice to have someone that close to you to live near-eternity with…someone who remembers where you come from first hand.
OR, it could be a living nightmare. :P :)
In any rate, I find myself thinking about so many people, the fam, friends, Sophie, so many I’ve loved, lost, found, hit with flying pillows, lost again, found, and hit with more flying pillows, and maybe also fired off a ceramic pig at, before losing them again...
I close this entry(and the year) with a line from an old George Strait Christmas song…
Merry Christmas…Wherever You Are!
See you in January Daywalkers (Don't delete me from your watch lists, fear not...I WILL BE BACK!! :) )
--Chet
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(Apparently even those in ‘dat thug life have a sense of irony and humour.)
Nah, they really don’t, I made that all up for kicks…but it WAS kinda clever huh?
(Nod along and pretend you agree with the man with the adorable dimpled cheeks and the nasty sharp pointy fangs.)
Though I do have a neighbor named Pepe…somewhere in this building…not sure if he’s actually supposed to be living here or if he’s booty buddies with some old lady up in this hissous..but there ya go…
Sure, Vampires have Christmas too…I mean, does Santay Claus get locked in one of those FoodSaver Vacuum seal packages and frozen in your grocer’s freezer immediately on December 26th to insure he’s crispy fresh for next year?
Hell nooo kiddos!!
Santa’s got, like a whole other secret life selling Amway products and public school band candy franchises on the side to unsuspecting slackers and their unisexual band/shop/theatre teachers (He’s got a right jolly old elf PATENT on that annoying shit!!)
…so who sez Vampies only do stuff on Halloween?? If YOU did, you’re soooo getting pimp-slapped ANNND bitchslapped!!
(Strictly in the metaphorically philosophical sort of way, of course…)
Nope, no I really don’t get to spend much of my Yuletide with my ACTUAL family, seeing as how I once had the decency and all many moons ago to tell Mom and Dad about my little necking “accident” and…well…Pops has since banished me from the House of McNabb as it were.
But don’t cry for me Argentina (Jones) just yet…
(Though, you should be tempted…I mean what kinda Ghetto hoochie mamma was your mamma ta’name you after a whole danged country anyway?? Lemme guess, your baby brother’s named Djibouti Jackson?? HA!! )
But, yeah, we get all the Vamps together I know (plus other poor souls who I have no idea who the Hell invited them) and make are OWN patchwork Christmas!!
See, in the unlife, it’s kinda a necessity for those you meet over the centuries who share your same shameless sanguine “affliction” to stick together.
Even if your original kinfolks don’t know about your radical transformation, or if you tell them and by some truly buckwild miracle they DON’T disown you as an evil Hellspawn Vampirical buttplug of Beelzebub himself, you’ll still outlive everybody you know. Guaranteed.
Except Vampies…
(Oh and maybe…umm….the…Kurgan…and Connor McLeod of The Clan McLeod…and his sexy trenchcoat, bedhead, and white tenneys!!)
So, either on December the 24th or the 25th, we get together, Moi, Remmy, Trishipoo, Antoine, and a lot of other vampires at an undisclosed location (usually squatting like a bunch of adorable hobos and loiterers) and have our Christmas party.
We each contribute our own little “piece” to the puzzle. Remmy usually gives his 1000th rendition of his “old timer’s “ lecture on the true origins of Christmas…
“Chet my Young Blooded Friend, Did I ever tell you how when I was a kid Christmas wasn’t Christmas at all…but was about celebrating the god Sol Invictus??”
“(Trying not to sigh too deeply)YESSSSS …”
“….and there were the rituals of Mithras and one time my father…”
“Wrestled and killed a young crazy horny bull with his bare hands? Yeaaaap”
“Oh…well…uhhh… Hey! Did YOU KNOW…that the word Christmas is ACTUALLY an amalgam of two words first commonly used in the time what you modern fellows would call the ‘Middle Ages’ but I CALL ‘Yesterday’ a-hahaha (amused, laughing with himself)…”
“Christ Mass…Yeaap I got it…thanks Remmeister…good talk again this year!”
Antoine always remembers to bring a HUGE batch of AUTHENTIC New Orleans Bread Pudding and praline sauce that he whips up himself…and sings Christmas songs a’la the Louis Armstrong way.
I have my special spiked Egg Nogg recipe which I most secretly make while Remmy assists (and also INSISTS I hear his “bonus” Egg Nogg/Grogg story and about a Yule festival he spent in Iceland in 965 in the A.D.)
And then Trish takes us back to her English roots and for all who are willing after a few drinks (okay, maybe MORE than a few) on a wassailing run of her apartment building.
“…..We are not daily begg-ARS That beg from door to doooooor….But we are ye neighbors' chil-DREN….Whom ye hast seen be-FOOOOOORE!”
* Bangy-bang-bangs on the door with her little hands*
“OYYY!! Open’um up and share Christmas with us….OR ELSE!!”
It’s like caroling, only with a BIT more drunkeness and TP’ing involved.
Yeah, I suppose no matter how repetitive it all is (and how VERY likely it will probably all annoy me a little in a milenina or so) these traditions I spend with my pales…err..PALS of the night are fun and comforting.
But, I DO miss my blood kinfolks. (No pun intended.) Pops creating a masterpiece of a Christmas Turkey fresh off his bigass “competiton cookoff” grade grill. My big bro Doogie letting me help him read “The Night Before Christmas” to my wee nieces and nephews when they were little.
Which reminds me…Dayum…they’re what? Counts on his fingers Buddy H. CHRISSSST!! They ain’t so little anymore…Hell, Doug’s bound to have a grandkid (with a rattail) or two by now..
Hell. Maybe even my little LITTLE brother Harry Bates McNabb might be a grandpappy by now too… SHIIIT!!
Then there was little sis Pasty( Cline McNabb) and her singing…the only one in our clan who could honest-to-freaking-gawwd carry a tune effectively…maybe she really IS adopted (or a mutant!! HA!)
Then there was Momma and her Whiskey Cake…made with the most expensive Jim Bean Black she could commandeer from Pops’ liquor cabinet in the “Gun Room.”
(Because guns and fine aged liquor go together like peas and carrots people!!)
Ahh yes, a goood ol’Fashioned Texas family Christmas.
Momma always does seem to smuggle me out a “New Year’s Christmas” card with a photo of their get together inside anyway, despite my Father’s insistance on my excommunication….
…with notes like “Chester, You’re not forgotten” or “Once a Mother, always your Mother”
SNIFF SNIFF!
Hmm…maybe one day…when the Old Man finally bites it…I can come home…*sigh* Mayybe even bring a few of my friends along for the ride
And it’s even stranger in these times…how often I find myself thinking about my gigantor Amazon woman “creator.”
Her “Mum” is a Vamp too afterall. I wonder if she appreciates it…Remmy and Trishie’s parents, brothers, nieces, nephews, and bastard brothers cousins nieces and nephews turned to bone-dust in their graves a LOOoooooNG time ago.
Must be nice to have someone that close to you to live near-eternity with…someone who remembers where you come from first hand.
OR, it could be a living nightmare. :P :)
In any rate, I find myself thinking about so many people, the fam, friends, Sophie, so many I’ve loved, lost, found, hit with flying pillows, lost again, found, and hit with more flying pillows, and maybe also fired off a ceramic pig at, before losing them again...
I close this entry(and the year) with a line from an old George Strait Christmas song…
Merry Christmas…Wherever You Are!
See you in January Daywalkers (Don't delete me from your watch lists, fear not...I WILL BE BACK!! :) )
--Chet
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