The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

... a whole different story again.
00:36 Sep 30 2009
Times Read: 1,046

Oh is that the time

I got to saying to

the guy with the

tie and, a white

shirt, as I gave

him my card.



And, after my

name was called

I went to a seat, in

front of the table

at which she sat.



Why were you late?

she had queried:

to which I had

said, well I got

walkin through

the Park, an saw

a wasp on the back

of a caterpillar, an

it was archin itself

into it and somehow

I kinda lost time …



So how is your job

search goin, she asks

as she shuffles at my

paperwork and this lady

is startin to get to know

me because she asks of

me with her fingers just

above the kepad, as she

looks at my notes on the

screen and she asks shall

I just write gnarly?



And, I tell her that the search

continues and, if this were a

film, I would be into the Next

generation, which is when I’d

begun to wonder if I able to

take the role of myself: and,

I’ll admit here and now, that

made me think of Alice, which

is a whole different story again.

.. a cheap night out/in??
23:51 Sep 27 2009
Times Read: 1,059

I went to Karl’s: got some new t.v. shows and drank a good red with our chicken roast, then spent the evening asleep.

No question about it, “I’m a cheap night out.”

.. it's a puzzle, where it comes from!
14:16 Sep 27 2009
Times Read: 1,060

Sunday morning and the washing was in then out again, as The Farm sang ‘all together now’ and I ended up getting dressed before the bath, as little Mother had her orders and the soil needed getting off the roots of the tomato plants. And when I said, “Can it be done tomorrow?” The expression on her face said a lot. And after cabbage and onion last late night, the stomach is recovering slowly. You’d think I’d learn. But it did taste good, so good; particularly after travelling to see friends I don’t see as often as I’d like and got a mission or two finished and wiped off my imaginary list.

And, I had even finished writing down a Zulu nursery rhyme that I’ve had on my brain, for well over ten years: it’s just not easy, writing down how a piece should sound, but I’m sure I got it right.

And, sitting in the bathe, as the sun came out, I looked down and wondered where that roll of fat came from, that’s never there when I stand up??

..

That thought stayed with me, awhile as I got ready to go to Karl’s.

... underage Uni first-time drinkers?
00:12 Sep 26 2009
Times Read: 1,068

I woke this morning, still annoyed with what I saw last night in Liverpool on the way home from a soup kitchen, in Toxteth shortly after eight forty.

I mention the soup kitchen bit to connote that I’m used to a diverse type of people and, at my age little shocks me.

Yet last night, I got reminded by someone I know well not to judge all young people by what I saw: and, though I know he’s right, I also found it shocking that he believes Liverpool is turned over to students on a Thursday night.

But, let me tell you of my walk home: from Percy Street toward Central Station I saw many young people, with good accents and speech, drinking heavily.

Doesn’t read as shocking, does it?

What got me was the two young men, with female company I believe, who were quite happily urinating on the black gates of the bombed out church, across from the Chinese arch.



Now, maybe it was that I was tired, after a really busy night on the project, but this being the first week of Uni for many of these young people and their first time away from home; as my younger friend reminded me last night, but… there is a lack of older people on the streets around that area on a Thursday, that much I have seen.



One last point, few of those I saw looking intoxicated, looked over eighteen.

And, whilst I’d also like to add, this was just their week; and I saw no police or city guides, on my walk to the station.



Just who is there keeping a check on these underage Uni first-time drinkers?

She had written: ...
00:06 Sep 26 2009
Times Read: 1,070

She had written: “…so, what’s so wrong if I think about killing him?”



I had answered ~



**thinks**



all the one's I fantasise about killing are pretty women, intelligent pretty women I fancy.



Huh?? Tmi??

sore point ...
23:57 Sep 25 2009
Times Read: 1,072

I got the rejection Friday morning as I was recovering from a hard night at the projecy: post of 'support worker.'

From Twilight .. to ABC, the walk continues.
16:02 Sep 24 2009
Times Read: 1,080

After a series of business letters were written, I had to get out of the house. So I went a walk to Mikes, to take a few discs round, ‘Twilight’ included.



[And, I do wonder whether I’ll watch it, now I have a good copy. I mean, I have so many pre-conceptions over that film, will I be able to shut them out to watch and enjoy it!?!]



It was only when I was walking that I realised that I still had my reading glasses on, the new photo-chromatic ones, with the small black frames: and as I walked past the post-office, some workies outside the shop next door called after me, inferring I looked like one of the Gibb brothers. How original: when I was younger it was Martin Fry of ABC, then John Lennon, now one of the Gibb brothers. How original.



On my way from his to mine, I had taken a right turn, instead of the left I would normally take; and found myself walking slower, as I walked beneath the green of the trees; and then, over the road, I saw someone walking in a manner I recognized, but hadn’t recognized the rest, which in part down to the glasses, which by then were giving me a headache.



As it was, I finally sussed out who it was and called out, “You’re still one of the finest looking women I’ve ever known!” And, indicating her headset, it was apparent that she’d not heard a word I’d said. So I crossed the road and repeated myself. It was then that we’d got talking about CBT, in a way I’ve not done so for awhile.



And boy was it good talking with her like that; as I hadn’t been wary of this pretty Goth vision, as I might’ve been ten years ago; and, I’d totally revelled in the intelligent discourse.



Then in the evening, Lucie called round and I cooked mince, veg. and dumpling for us, which we ate while watching to new Indiana Jones movie. It was as she was about to go, that we’d got talking CBT again; and I ended up explaining stuff to her that I’d had been sure she’d have understood, if it had been anyone else other than Lucie.



And once she was gone, I thought to myself about the chance of meeting Debbie [the pretty Goth babe], which only happened as I’d taken the right turn, instead of the left, which I’d normally do.



Aye, a day is a good day, when you have something to write about.

"... but they could!"
00:40 Sep 23 2009
Times Read: 1,083

It was sunny after calling at Mikes and, acquiring films and watering the Azalea: and, I found Lucies phone no so invited her for a meal; and when she said, “I’m looking forward to it,” I had replied, “So am I. without it, I’ll starve.”



In the background I have on no.13 of ‘Warehouse 13’ as I typed, with a copy of The Metro sitting to my left on the bed.



And a Nemi in the Metro had me in tucks. It’d read like this ~



First panel: Cyan’s boyfriend sits on the sofa next to Nemi.

“Cyan reckons I look a bit like Nathan Petrelli.” [pause] “Who do you think is most sexy?”



Second panel: Looking to her left, Nemi looks to him.

“Sylar.”



Third panel: He looks surprised.

“Sylar?” He exclaims.



“MM – He’s tasty.” Says Nemi.



“But he’s the meanest!” He retorts.



“- And that makes him sexy.” Nemi explains patiently.



Third panel: “But you couldn’t live with him! What about Suresh? Peter?” He queries.



“You didn’t ask who I’d start a family with. That’s different. I’d want to shag Sylar.” She explains to him, as she sips her own coffee, even more patiently.



Fourth Panel: Nemi looks to where he had been sitting, on the sofa.



“Crikey,” she says, “SORRY!” Then she adds, “I forgot you like to believe girls and boys are so different.”



Tuesday, 22 September 2009



And I got talking recently with a couple of people recently about depression, which had got me thinking goodstyle.



And the mp4 of children to men is cooking well: [as it turns from that format to .avi]



So I return, to finish off where I was going.



The mania I understand of myself, is related to my depression, which manifested real early, say about eleven or so, as I recall.



Well, then I got diagnosed ‘Manic Depressive’, which some would say was debilitating, particularly back then, because of the stigma attached to the label; whereas I saw it as an explanation for behaviours of self that required as such.



So for me, the label had been useful.



And, so it had suited for me, for over twenty years; that label was like a signpost for me, which explained somewhat wild and aberrant behaviour. And then I joined the NHS and they did a clothier report on me, which entailed a check of my medical records: and according to that, “I’m fine.”



According to ‘them’ and what ‘they’ say, I’m ostensibly “cured.” No comment.



Personally, I did like the definition thrown at me by one of the two women I spoke of, as it so well defined me. But as I say, a doctor diagnosed me: a lot of years ago.



‘Manic depression is bipolar class 1.



BiPolar class 2 with "psycotic features" as the doctor so eloquently put it....

Split personality disorder

and PTSD from my childhood...



I'm on medications to try and stabilize my moods and personalities. The doctor says that when I stabilize, we'll find out which personality is most dominate...’



But all of this brings me to where I’d been going to start from: “When I first came to Vampirerave I was struck by the amount of people who identify with depression. In

Fact to some of them, depression is more real than themselves. I recall that on one profile I saw the words “Proud to be Bi-Polar!”



And, what gets me is that few of these people talk of being diagnosed. Yet I have been. That is the reason why I can’t understand why they write as they do.



It occurs to me, that these who seek to identify with depression do so to obscure the fact that life is governed by responsibility for self: because, if you have depression, ‘how can you be blamed?’ It is a thought.



Whereas, it strikes me, that wouldn’t it, be good if they sought diagnosis, as my friends have: if they understood their problem and, they could learn to attend to it.



[Even though, albeit not always perfectly, but they could.]

Blood – The Last Vampire
23:49 Sep 21 2009
Times Read: 1,092

In the 16th Century, the savage Onin War reduced Japan to a massive feeding ground. Assuming human forms, demons settled in among mortals to prey on the bloodshed.



A fearless samurai named Kiyomasa rose from the heart of evil and became the most revered demon hunter, only to be brutally slain by the oldest, vilest of all demons: Onigen.



Centuries passed. Darkness reigns on. Then, a mysterious hunter emerged, joining forces with a secret society, she sets out to face her ultimate foe… Onigen.



This is the Synopsis behind: Blood – The Last Vampire.



Manga in feel, with a central character that quickly dispatches her first kill within the titles; then finds herself dispensing with the ubiquitous long coat, to wear Japanese naval style, school-girl uniform like the heroine in ‘Machine Girl’, which I had also enjoyed. Set in the seventies, with a nice sense of a period I recall well, the movie boasts an American/Japanese cast, as our protagonist moves to an American school, where she encounters an American teen and, their friendship is central to the story, as Saya beats demons and vampires alike, to meet her goal, a confrontation with Onigen.



Saya - Gianna Jun

Alice McKee - Allison Miller

.. stressed, but finishin projects.
00:23 Sep 20 2009
Times Read: 1,103

Friday night saw me having drawn the small television stand cum coffee table toward me, to type, as I tried to burn off ‘Original Sin’ and ‘Cyborg 2’; both of which star Angelina Jolie.



And I know why the peecee is acting up: it is dying slowly.



But, it’s not helped by the adaware located nasties, or the fact that I have too much on it’s poor hardrive.



So I sat there typing away, as I burn file after file, prior to a restart, knowing full well that I have so much to do: and, Mike left awhile earlier and ‘Harpers Island’ has had me in it’s thrall.



But, I have a disc to make, so have discs everwhere; and a present to send, so there’s packing paper here ‘n there: and I know, I know, there’s something else that I have to do!!! [But Harper’s Island got in the way again!!! ~ the computer aside, I’m almost thankful that it’s nearly over, the damn thing’s become an obsessive watch!]



The films to disc, I’ve recalled what else I have to do. I have a story to finish!

“Oh.. Oh.. Fudge..”

A 'good' Interview
17:23 Sep 17 2009
Times Read: 1,113

I awoke Thursday morning to the sound of a tree being cut down and, the phone ringing, with a dry mouth. I had drunk rather a lot the previous evening, on an empty stomach as I had visited Pete and Vicky and then Mandy, and got home about twelve at night, via taxi.



The interview I’d had felt like one of the best I’ve ever had, simply because the owner/manager of the enterprise had actually listened: and, even when I’d made declaration, there hadn’t been a problem.



And, after the interview, I’d taken myself for a walk down on the promenade, after a brief stop at ‘The Magazine’ that had led to my first drink; I’d taken a Rosé to Pete an Vicky’s. The thing was, she didn’t like Rosé, or I should say it isn’t good for her. So I went out and acquired a white and was back within ten minutes. And, as we talked, it came clear to me how much I miss their friendship. But, with Vicky being Simon’s sister, it does make travelling to Wallasey awkward.



Anyway, I left; then went to visit Mandy. An I got to see how much Storm has grown, since I last saw her: and working on the pc for her was fun: I’d just not expected to have to get that taxi home. But, it had been good to see Mandy.





One point I recall Storm lookin at me studiously, then finally she said. "You're blonde."

So I just answered with a smile, "So's your Mum."

six degrees of seration: district 9 , to whitney houston.
00:48 Sep 16 2009
Times Read: 1,131

I left VR then the house, feeling a tad calmer, than I had after my brother had used the eff word to me, when he’d phoned to speak to my Mother and had a poor connection.



I was wearing just my fleece-lined nylon-jacket otherwise topless, the zip halfway down to keep cool: and yes, I got quite a few stares.



[‘I wonder if all of them were negative?’ I wonder also, ‘were any positive?]



I’d called out Mikes, to tell him how good ‘District 9’ was: and, particularly the last twenty minutes, when my jaw dropped an inch, or so.



A couple of minutes after getting to his, as we chatted, I realised that I should’ve signed on, forty minutes earlier. Needless to say, my anxiety chip had kicked off and upon advice; I decided to get the bus.



I’d left Mikes with the sun breaking through the clouds, turned left and there’d been the stop, for the little bus, the 146 that goes all round everywhere: and then beyond.



It goes one way, then the other and down by the river and then, through the old village, to stop where I had needed.



The driver of the of the 146 from Bridle Road was most helpful, on a day when I had felt stressed, going as far as to give me good advice, as to where to stand to get the bus home, after my journey: indeed, a helpful fellow.



I got home about five, as the folks were sitting to eat: so I looked in the fridge, for pudding’s I’d not eaten. There’d been two, stewed apple, which I had with a couple of assorted biscuits; and then, still feeling that urge for sweet stuff, took the piece of blackcurrant cheesecake, with yoghurt, out into the back, to eat with a light wind cooling down my chest, through the open zip of my jacket.



As I walked through the lounge, tray in hand, coffee on top, I heard the sound of Whitney Houston warbling away her latest song, during the entertainment section of channel Five News.



I’d then sat to type, with Medical Investigation on, as I thought of tea, Harpers Island later with Mike and my job interview tomorrow.



I’m glad I’d got that bus, sometimes the journey’s a long ride, but darn interesting.

A friends face...
15:18 Sep 13 2009
Times Read: 1,156

A friends face is my backdrop on the old Dell laptop, so when I retire to bed and I type out my thoughts, I’m able to see a friendly face, last thing at night, before I retire to my bed, to finally sleep. And, though I haven’t heard from this Lady in awhile, it matters not, as the last time we spoke, all I’d heard was positive. And, what more could you ask for, for someone you like than that? [Not much, I would suggest.]

As it happens, when my friend Lucie left Saturday night, having let me cook for us both and leaving money for me, [as I’d helped with her PC] she was smiling, even though she’d not got the response to her phone-call that she’d wanted. At least she’d tried. And, that’s the kick: just back from Turkey, my friend needed someone to act as a sounding board for her thoughts, in much the same way as others have done for me.

And, as she left, she’d left with a smile, what more could I have wanted, for her?

Wow, poor soul.
01:14 Sep 13 2009
Times Read: 1,160

I saw someone online Friday and said hello, though they'd not said nish to me for ages.. just wanted to wish m well .. so I did so and was told they were working, as if that explained the absence maybe. and anyway, they then said maybe .. in like.. answer to me sayin good.. and, after 'be back soon', had to go to take their child to school, before their work. and, liike I know people move on, as they do.. an mosttimes I don't mind. but, I like to think that when they move on, an I neither see nor them again, that they’re happy. It isn’t too much to ask for.



And, knowing all thought of her, all she had done was whine. Wow.

.. just wondrin.
14:37 Sep 10 2009
Times Read: 1,179

".. do you think everyone colour coordinates their pegs, when they're putting the washing out?"

..

'Coz I do.

'Why depressed?'
14:08 Sep 10 2009
Times Read: 1,182

... if I knew why I got depressed, the triggers to my depression wouldn't have the same effect.



I'm an emotional depressive, not chemical. It happens.



They call it bi-polar Now: it my day it was called Manic depression.







What more can you say to the question someone asked me in an email, 'Why depressed?'

too many tomatoes??
22:43 Sep 09 2009
Times Read: 1,187

Wednesday early evening sitting on my bed, as my Father took my camera for a walk, to evidence the fact that the daughter of the woman over the way from ours had parked her car in such a place that he couldn’t get out. Needless to say, the keys he had needed for the back door weren’t there. And, as he’d given up, I’d continued typing, episode eight of ‘Birds Of Prey’ on in the background, thankful that at least I could sit cross-legged, in comfort: after all, all day I’d been driven clean mad by the churning gut-ache I’d suffered from all day, which I’m putting down to Tuesday night and too many tomatoes, or may be even the nectarine or ice-cream. And thinking about last night reminds me that when I logged onto VR Tuesday I’d found that ‘Echoes Of War’, the first part of a scifi story I’m working on had disappeared from my stories section, much to my consternation.



{It transpires I put it in the wrong category, ‘spells’.}

... depression .. and, memory.
01:43 Sep 08 2009
Times Read: 1,198




I called on Mikes feeling depressed and I had been so since Sunday. There’d been no specific reason: there never is. That just isn’t the way it is with depression.



Yet there it was. Anyway, I had called round there and left, with a grin, after he spent a good while talking with me about his stuff, after which he tried to convince me to seek publication.



And, that conversation had me leaving his thoughtful on a sunny day, with thoughts of memory is connected to the chronological order of many of the stories I have written or the lack thereof.



My rumination on the nature of memory also led to thinking about how memories can act as a catalyst toward a bout of depression. Yet, often it has been a trigger that has acted as the catalyst toward a stories creation.



~ * ~





Memory is fragmented at the best of times; and it’s the triggers that can act to promote a specific one.



The triggers to memory can be a tune, an image, a phrase; or even a smell that is associated with a time, or place.



~ * ~



In essence, memory is disjointed and so it’s recalled in a non-linear fashion.



The nature of memory came to me when I looked at the contents of a USB that had contained my stories, many of which are personally based.



And, as I looked at the folder further, I’d begun to consider it a very real possibility that my stories could be the biography that I’ve been told to consider several times.

... thank frell
01:14 Sep 08 2009
Times Read: 1,199

And Sunday was a hoot; everytime I got into my writing, little Mother decided she needed help with something, gardening and the like. In fact, having been up till 2:00 a.m. in the morning writing, it had been she who woke me at 11:00 a.m. as she wanted help in the garden, transplanting something, half a Primula, I think. Well, later, as I was about to get my act together to go to Karl’s, she collared me again, in a most unusual way. You see, I heard a squeaking. And, as I’d followed where the sound had come from, I dound my Mother in the back room with my baby things: and the four to five incg squeaking donkey, nearly fifty years old, that made a sound that I’d recognized, from all those years ago.

And, amongst the things there was my first waistcoat in red tartan and many of the wollen beret’s I used to wear, all those years ago.



Needless to say, I’d been thrown somewhat by all that and, was glad to be out and about, as I visited Karl. It was only on my return home that it all came to the fore once more, when I got talking to a young Mum with her son, whose fella wasn’t interested and, once again, I thank Frell, that my parents adopted me.



I’ve certainly been lucky, through all that I’ve known, that is was me they chose.

'The Mist'
00:40 Sep 07 2009
Times Read: 1,204

The Mist



Saturday night, Mike called round to watch ‘The Mist’ with me, having learnt that I was to watch it, prior to returning it to Karl on the Sunday.



It starred Thomas Jane, Marcia Gay Harden, Laurie Holden. A freak storm unleashes a mist on a small town, that contains several species of blood-thirsty creatures: based on the 1980 novella of the same name by Stephen King.



This had been one of the few Kings novels I’ve seen filmed done well, with an end that I found truly heart-stopping.



The film is definitely, ‘to be recommended.’

... thank gawd!
00:13 Sep 07 2009
Times Read: 1,206

It’s first time on the PC all day.. I got wet.. I came in.. I went out, I got wet again.. and Now, I'm finally sitting down after writing, for hours.

Thank gawd for my armchair where I’m sitting full-lotus, as I'm in pain: lower back.

Getting gonzo, with what had meant to be a review of Warehouse - 13
23:18 Sep 04 2009
Times Read: 1,214

Mike and I watched Warehouse – 13 as it poured down outside, having a beer and a smoke. And, after he’d gone and I’d had donned my sea-green and blue-striped terry-towel robe, due to the chill in the air; and eaten my beans on toast listening to Frank Sinatra sing ‘That’s Life’, I’d stepped out the front door to put the milk bottle out: and there up above, was a full-moon, looking down on me, personally. So I looked up and told Her, “I know.”

... “rotten joggers!”
01:47 Sep 04 2009
Times Read: 1,223

And talking of thing’s that just plain irks one: ‘what is it with joggers?’



They sneak up behind you, on those trainers, jostle you without a word; or don’t thank you if you sense they’re there and get out of their way.



And, as they jog, what do they do? The ignorant wazzacks throw their water bottle into gardens, verges and hedge-rows; and they’re doing it to stay healthy?



One has to ask, is that at the expense of good manners and the environment around, then why can’t they just stay home and use a treadmill.



Either way, I wish they weren’t on my planet: “rotten joggers!”

Wolverine Pics.
00:51 Sep 04 2009
Times Read: 1,228

The profile pics up Now were taken from the finished film.. the previous ones up did not have the full effects added to that version of the film.

American Apparel!?!
00:37 Sep 04 2009
Times Read: 1,230

Wednesday morning I was watching morning TV and, two different programmes talked of paedophilia.



Then later, as I logged onto the net I went onto Yahoo and read the news, prior to opening my mail.



And, I read of an advert that’s been banned, as the model in it appears under sixteen in it and the advert has sexual overtones.



Now being the curious type, I read more.



The advert was for American Apparel: so I researched further.



And, in an age when the youth of today are being sexualised more and more, what I saw there was wrong, just wrong to me.



Their adverts are akin to porn and not just soft porn either. The advert that caught my eye was a semi-naked young lady lying back onto a couch, with the advert for the name of the company between her splayed legs. But other than that name and the style of the shoot, there’s little else to indicate what it’s for.



Now there is an argument that sex has been used to sell things for years, just look at Pirelli and their calendars, selling tyres.



But it’s bad enough that there are parents and family who abuse their young; I just can’t help thinking it wrong that their youth and sexuality are used and abused to sell adverts for American Apparel and, the like.

Conspiracies and ‘The Shock Doctrine’??
01:46 Sep 02 2009
Times Read: 1,237

It’s hardly a secret that US corporations are cashing in on the chaos in Iraq. Nor will it come as a surprise that a handful of oligarchs reaped the profits from privatising Russian industry in the mid-1980’s. And, many blame the theories of Reagan and Thatcher’s favourite economist Milton Friedman for the recession. As it is explained I in ‘The Shock Doctrine’ by Naomi Klein, she purports the idea that Friedman’s policies of deregulation of finance have become orthodoxy and led to our current recession, as public assets have been systematically stripped in the wake of war, civil upheaval and natural disasters.

... the last episode of Eureka?
01:21 Sep 02 2009
Times Read: 1,245

On the way back from the dole and signing-on I called into The War On Want in Bromborough Village I had got talking with a fellow who had a degree in Eastern European Politics and boy-was-he fascinating. Then I’d plodded onward toward home and passed an MP, shoulders down, looking far less full of himself than when he first took off, prior to the expenses scandal, which has probably cost him his political future. And, the fellow looked at me, as if to say ‘I know you face’ as I had done the same. And, with recognition, I’d smiled at Ben Chapman, a fellow who has done a lot of good in my area, before all that happened did so.



Then in the evening Mike and I watched episodes fifteen and sixteen of the third series of ‘Eureka’, which in all it’s run’s has never got to sixteen before.

Maybe that is whyy all the last couple I have seen have felt like ‘the last episode’?

silly can be good
01:01 Sep 01 2009
Times Read: 1,141

After deliberating on story-lines, I re-edited the various parts of Japanese Sex School together for a friend; and finished downloading the last .rar file for ‘House Of Whipcord’ a film I’ve read of but not seen yet [and, I’ve seen some spurious seventies movies] and then sat back to watch ‘Better Off Ted’ parts one and two, a wonderfully inventive set in the offices of a research and development side of Veridian Dynamics. And boy is it funny, as it aptly describes the various frustrations of office life, as I saw myself, when I worked I.T. for the NHS.





‘Better off Ted’ .. I like it. I like Middleman .. and, silly can be good.