Vampires are the worst mother fuckers to hang out with. The young ones are normally either depressed or monstrous ego freaks, drunk on their new power, with a pop cultural identity crisis. The older ones are all of that baked into a nice cake with a thick layer of your grandpa’s “When I was a Kid” stories. Seriously have to be crazy to want to be around those.. people.

Too bad for me. From now on it’s my job to hang out with them. A job that forces itself into my lap like a stray cat just when I had become horrible allergic to them. I’d rather spend a week shitting blood than see one of their creepy needy faces right now. I’m lucky because that is exactly what I’m doing.

Shitting blood.

Turns out vampires have this crappy habit of wanting to make more vampires. Every once in awhile one of them will get it into their thick ass skulls that I really want to be one of them, or that it’d be funny to “turn” me to see if “she can take it”. Pieces of shit. So here I am,Trying not to vomit as I choke it down. Not sure what it actually is. It’s some type of herbal paste that I get from Suzanna over on the east side. She’s odd but I trust her when she says it works best if I eat it like thick hot oats. I’m not a fan of oats so I dissolve it in beer. Sure as shit, seven days of regular dosing purges the body of vamp blood. Too bad most of it comes out your asshole with everything else you consume.

Isabelle likes to watch as I sit drunk on the toilet at 3 am cursing whatever vampire gods she worships. Fuck you Isabelle, and fuck all your kind. I’m too angry to continue this tonight but despite my anger at the moment I know I’ll be back at work as soon as I can get my pants back on.