8.24.2013

The Living can not Follow the Dead

...but, the living can follow the undead.

I was followed.

I was discovered.

I have to admit, I was not careful since I thought no one would believe that undead exists but I was mistaken.

At first, I thought I was followed by a random person that overheard the conversation at the W before I granted a $50k sleepover for a wealthy man into necrophilia scenarios.

But how stupid of me to think that anyone outside the scientific world would grasp such a thing.

No.

No.

No.

This man has been tracking me for more than 10 years.

10 years I have been ordering plasma from a company in Europe and he is a scientist in their development program; a program that harvests and regenerates skin from stem cells. He has watched my every move.

And its only now since I have left my life behind that he took his chance. He made his move. He pulled out his queen.

Brilliant move on his part if you think about. He would be an awesome opponent at chess. For someone to wait carefully before ever pulling out their queen like this, well not to be redundant but nothing short of brilliant.

Patience is a virtue that always pays the most.


When I stopped ordering plasma last year and started ordering under a pseudonym that is when he knew that I am beyond pretending that I am normal and human.

He had me without me knowing he had me.

Until....

He found a way to subdue me and when I awoke I was duct taped to the window in the previous post.

He took a steak knife and struck hard and fast straight through me.

I felt something. Perhaps it was pain or just the memory of what pain felt like when I hurt myself when I was alive. For whatever reason, I felt something and every part of my body quivered in such a ravenous way that I fell to the floor and let out a muffled howling like no one had ever heard.

Imagine being hit so hard in the chest that you can no longer bring in air. That is what it felt like. I only know this feeling because when I was little, I climbed a tree and hung from a tree branch with my legs wrapped around and my hands holding on and my head dangling and smiling.

The tree branch broke and fell 2 stories along with my body. I fell flat on my back and had the breathe whipped right out of me. I could not breathe back in. I remember my Mother running toward me screaming and then all went dark.

Nothing went dark this time but my body hung in a state of perpetual motionless while he taped me up and took pictures of me while watching me heal. It is not like in the movies. You do not heal in a fifteen minute segment. And I needed the plasma to bathe in before I scarred.

 I kept motionless hoping he would leave and give me a chance to get away.

And then my chance came and I took it.

I hid away as he came back and I took him over and tied him with the same duct tape he used on me. I was going to cut him inside and out. I wanted to hate him and hurt him but then I thought...

Here is the one person who knows about me and how my cells work to keep me in a perpetual state of undead.

He will be my wing man.

Expose me and he gains nothing.

Exploit me and he can amass the same fortune as I.

We are currently in negotiations but I am certain he can not last as long as I can duct taped to a window without food and water.

I am sure he will see things my way or he will see things the way the dead do.....

Meanwhile, I bathe in the plasma and let my wound heal.



The Blondead will never follow the living again!!




8.23.2013

Death over Religion

 
 

The Blonde has not killed her sense of irony!

8.21.2013

I Am Miss Havisham

and I always will be.

The Blonde never once wore a wedding gown

I have no feeling about it only the thought...

Struck me funny today!

Should I have been sad about it when I was alive?

What did I miss?

Float to Feel

I used to float in the pool and hear my breathe under the water. I do not hear that now but I remember it. I remeber many things when I float but its only temporary.

I am grateful its temporary. Many things I remember are bad. I have good memories but they fight to stay afloat when my mind drifts back to when my heart beat.

I promised to get back to you and tell you about the stabbing but I can't tonight.

I floated today and feel funny...

Living memories are hitting me like a brick to my soul tonight.

I know I keep saying I will get back to you in a certain time but I just realize, I have no concept of time anymore.


The Blonde is under a fading blue Moon tonight!


The. New Grateful Dead for the UnDead

I just used Shazam to discover Unbelievers by Vampire Weekend.



The BlondeaD will take on unbelievers!!

Bitcoins can't Buy a Coffin

....and if I have to travel in the damn thing for theatrical effect in order to give my clients a once in lifetime-ahhh, the irony is not lost on me-sexual experience that goes beyond anyone's wildest imagination accept my own and perhaps Stephen King than the box better be the Bentley of  Coffins.

It is quite fun shopping for morgue supplies. I find they lack stereo and video installations for lay to rest box beds but then again who other than I and some wayward vasmpires would need such audio and video delights for their portable catacomb. I did find some with memory foam and platinum plated handles. I think I can afford the full platinum, memory foam with the space gel and and surround sound, satellite, etc...

Oh, hello?!! 

I think because of the obesity problem I probably can order a double wide coffin. Holy white trash Batman..how awesome and roomy will that be?

Anyhoo,

As you can see, I am finally shopping after a few days of resting and allowing my wound to heal.

The giant pratt that I will tell you about, stabbed me in the chest with a steak knife. The absolutely gall-no pun intended but it is an excellent happen stance pun-  of this person.

Where are his manners?

A run of the mil restaurant supply store steak knife!!




Oh shoot, the dude from Audio Lions is here to discuss the bose surround sound in my Bentley dead bed.

but check back later...

The Blonde has blood curdling details about her stabbing!

8.16.2013

Dream A Little Dream

...about a serpent.

It was as vivid and real as I sit here in technicolor reality. The large serpent was light grey on top with black eyes and white scales along its bottom side.

The serpent was large and dead laying upside down. His length was shorter than the boa constrictor that was wrapped tightly around its neck still squeezing the serpent even beyond  its death. The serpent had fallen with his body twisting as it came down. Half its head, the size of a Yugo, was floating on top of the pool water. The base of his body rest along the edge just oust side the pool and just before the swamp that outline this dreamscape. His tail yet wrapped tightly with another Boa.

As I panicked and stood staring at these two enormous reptiles, my dear old cat Sophie was swimming at the bottom of the pool desperately trying to come to the edge where I stood. I thought for certain she would be attacked but the giant reptiles just stared straight ahead, almost beyond me.

I grabbed the soaking wet ball of fur and then the dream shot moved to another place. Suddenly I was inside and in someone's bedroom looking for what, I have no clue. The room was dark, the walls dark almost as if covered in soot from a fire. The female in the bed was under white linens but was faded and I can't remember her now. We talked but I do not know what about.

Dreams are funny that way.

I woke up and found myself in a strange place with a strange person and large wound in my chest.

My  legs were tied to the bed and one of my arms dangled from the bed post with my wrist enclosed in a cuff. Without pain, I quickly squeezed my thumb until it snapped and scraped my hand out of its metal noose.

I am tired and the rest of the story will be told tonight but for now, I must tend to these wounds before they heals with a scar. And then I must return to the place I woke from and see if the man that followed me and took me can as easily get out of his noose.

The Blonde is awake now!


8.12.2013

A Corpse Can Not Fly First Class

I got myself into a bit of a pickle it seems.

I just realized, I can't very well represent myself as the corpse for these little transactions I have set up. I can't play dead and the Necro-Madame at the same time. I also can not fly first class with cocktail service and have the warm washcloth with cucumber anti-puffy eye treatment in the luxurious comfort of the G5s succulent leather reclining seats and watch a movie. I need to set up a a coffin -icebox arrangement and fly with the Louis Vuitton set in the luggage compartment sans the comfort.

This is not exactly how I had envisioned things.

I will worry about that in a bit but for now, I have to learn how to set up an account in Zurich or some other off shore account. I prefer not to use the South American banks because you never know what drug cartel is running the banks and I might be out the lot. I much rather entrust my money to the Swiss.

Anyhoo,

I have been siting here in the cafe researching my specific situation and how properly to arrange everything and still travel and live in style. What is the point of all this money if I have to hide like a little beetle bug?

I am seriously being distracted at the moment.

There is a gentleman in the corner who is staring at me, carefully trying not to be obvious. I believe I saw him at the hotel for my first necro encounter. Perhaps its paranoia and then again perhaps it is not.

He is still staring!

I am going to pack up now and find a new spot to do my research and see if the feel of neck hair rising on my dead skin is just the the air vent I am sitting under or if someone is truly following me.

I really have not been very careful and I just suddenly realize how all terribly wrong this could go down.If discovered for my new genetic makeup...I might find myself in Area 51 with the aliens.



The Blonde might get her wings clipped!







8.09.2013

Praise the Dead

or the undead in my case.



Chapman is singing the Blonde's soul song!

8.08.2013

Super Riche Super Freaky

I had a great deathday. I hung out by the pool at the W and met a 1%.

If you think the super wealthy are different, you would be correct. Only, you have no idea how incredibly different they truly are.

It comes down to boredom. These people have so much money and have done sooo many things. Their one and only goal in life is to feed their need for something they can't have. And for people with this kind of stash...there is truly nothing they can not have.

Until the Blondead.

I was talking pool side to a gent who was looking for something out o the ordinary and I simply suggested...

Necrophilia.

The attraction to have sex with a corpse. I told him, I could make it happen.

He thought I was kidding.

I told him to come to room 802 and bring a stethoscope and his Swiss bank account number or cash.

He was oddly amused, somewhat bewildered, and mostly freaked and scared. It is a deadly-hard to resist combination for someone who is simply bored out of his wealthy mind.

I had many brazilian cocktails and went to my room. Around 1 AM, there was a knock.

I could not very well answer the door and play dead at the same time. If he was to come in...he merely needed to push harder on the door. I had placed a piece of the flimsy card board coaster from the water glass in the hotel room between the lock and the door jam.

I lay still on the bed with the air conditioner pumping ice cold air.

I really did not think he had the guts but, alas, I was wrong.

He came in. He pressed the cold hard metal of a medical device to my heart.

And eewwwww....

HOW FUCKING GROSS?!!!

The asshole did me.

What the fu...?!!

Seriously?!

If $50,000 cash was not laying by the bed side and I was still alive, I would be truly insulted that he did not care that I had a pulse.

But, I just found a way into a VIP money making deal with only the 1% as my clients.

I left my little black card with only a number and instruction for his friends. I have already booked two appointments each with a six figure price tag.



If you want to have sex with a gorgeous corpse, you must be beyond the law and beyond asking how much.

The BlonDEAD just found her bank!

8.07.2013

Fat Men Float

So I did not keep the jerk under water for long. Just enough for him to drown a little bit. He floated to the top and I called 911. I am sure he is fine but he won't paw women anymore without permission.

Anyhoo,

On a happier note:

It is the one year anniversary of my funeral. I was going today to the grave to see if anyone put flowers out but I don't want to spook the one person who might show up and besides, I have to get out of town. Apparently, after the almost accidental drowning of jerk, I can't stay on the boat anymore.

I am tired of the sun and water, anyway. My skin has to be slathered with sun protection and then I have to spend an hour using a hard bristle brush to get my skin to snap back after long periods of time floating in the water.

I dry up like a raisin.

I hate raisins.

Its a dead and petrified grape!

I hated them when I was alive. I hate them more now that I am undead. They scare me. I will freak if I see a bowl anywhere.

Raisins are my kryptonite.

Anyhoo, I digress....

What will be in the back of my mind today and make me me oddly happy is knowing an investigation will be pursued in the 'attempted murder' of a dick head. And when the police go to investigate and  dust for fingerprints, all they will find is a dead person's set of prints. Its a double whammie. Not only did I scare the dickens out of a sexual predator but they will think he is crazy when they show him a picture of me and my death certificate.

Ahh hahaaha  HAHAhaaaaaaa (evil laugh)

I find this hysterical. 

Its like my own undead humor.

SO what am I going to do on my one year anniversary of mortal immortality?

Hmmm....

I think I am going to go pool side at the new lush hotel and get my drink on. Not that I get drunk anymore but the memory of drunk is still there.  It is sort of like being that ridiculous bubble headed blonde at the age of 19 or 20 that plays drunk more than the actual drunk. It will can be fun. I think I might pick up someone staying at the hotel and play dead and spook the crap out of him.

The Blonde is going to have fun on her Happy Deathday!!
 





8.05.2013

You DO Not Bully The UnDead

I am  no longer your pawn in this fucked up world. How dare you think I am nothing?

I am something, you jerk.

I was something before but I am much more now.

Do you think it ok to put women in a head lock?

Do you think it is ok to treat a women with less respect than your dog?

Who the fuck is your Mother? 

She severely screwed up in your up bringing.

I am not one you can play with, as you willed, anymore.

You do not want to mess with me. 

I have no heart nor a soul and the only compassion I have inside of me is for those who loved me unconditionally before I became an undead.

And I can count them on one hand.

So if you feel the need to continually mess with me, know this; I can topple you over the boat with me and cling to your neck as we sink into the abyss and I will be the only one coming back up for the much needed air you need to breathe.

Kind of ironic, don't you think?

I don't need the air.

And even more ironic is the fact that this warning will not reach you in time. You do not read my blog.



The Blonde wishes you well in your blissful abyss!


8.02.2013

Even the UnDead Have Issues

I probably have more issues now than when I pretended I was alive.

My stealing a yacht has nothing to do with my pursuit of a crazy Doctor who put this curse on me as much as it does have to do with getting away with things.

I guess this is my toddler stage of being undead. Seeing what I can and can not get away with. At this point, I have no guilt nor reason to feel anything other than contempt for life.

Mine was taken and I should be on another plain of existence but rather now, I am stuck in this god for saken universe without a reason to live but I can't die.

Ughhh....



So, I have the yacht. I have yet to figure out where the hell I am going to take it to.

But for now, I sit on the yacht and pretend it is mine and host hang outs with the weekend crowd.

It is truly funny how people are.

They will not question anyone who sits on the back of a yacht. I guess it helps that I do not have on a hoodie.

I am planning on taking this sucker out in the next few days but right now, it is just too fun watching these jerks try to be my freinds.

My favorite is the prig who was born with a silver spoon in his ass and lives off his dead Father's money. He brags about his Father's accomplishments because he really has no true ones of his own. Even his kids are dead beats waiting for their Father to drop dead and take over the money.


Loving it!!!

Maybe my issues are not as grand when you put another's context to it.


The Blonde will have to get rid of the dead weight before she launches!!!!!

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