9.05.2013

Hotel TransvylManiac

Thank the powers of the dead for allowing me to have a 6 digit balance in the bank. I now have the opportunity to check out some primo hotels while on the lamb from psycho wife.

Why on earth would a woman who found out her husband had a necrophiliac bed romp want to save her marriage and blame the undead?

....And to have the audacity to try and knock down my hotel door?

Apparently this chick has a detective that has been following the hubbie and now following me!

I had to upgrade to a five star ZaZa just to make sure I have ample security.

Meanwhile, I have no address to ship my coffin to. It is ready with some awesome features but I need to find a warehouse before I can test it out.  I will try to post pics once I find a place to have it delivered.

So, next week...I will be traveling to Europe to the Czech Republic to have my long awaited super cash cow sexcepade with a Count.  I will be flying in a G5 but unfortunately I will be stuck in a luggage compartment. Its fin..I have my souped up Bentley corpse box for the ride.

I have had a day of quiet time and reflection and find the living need to relax and chill about their lives.

Honestly, how would you like to be dead and running around with no morality code to work with since God, heaven and hell are all a no-go?!

Yeah, you are right...

It is kind of awesome....

The BlonDeaD is headed to the club house for cocktails.





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!!




7.20.2013

Prejudice runs A Muck Everywhere

When I was a little girl growing up in North Carolina, our elementary class went on a field trip to an art museum. There was one piece of art that stuck out in my mind and has been placed in my memory forever.

I long since forgotten who painted it but I remember it was a political painting because my teacher told us it was. At the ripe old age of 7, I would not have known its meaning nor the impact it was meant to have until now.

Trayvon Martin unlocked this memory for me.

The painting was of a Carolina shoreline with a giant ocean rippling on through and there were words painted on the sky above on a ribbon saying, "Swim Back to Africa".

When you looked in the ocean, in the painting, there were many black men swimming out to sea with a white man under each of their arms trying to swim back to Africa. I understood they would not make the journey and I understood that two white men would drown with them.

I stared and stared at that painting. I knew I liked it, I actually loved it but not for the reason you think.


My Mother and Father are from other countries and I grew up being called a pollok and a natzi. Again, I was too young to understand what that meant but I knew enough to kick someone in the balls when they said it.

I ended up in the Principal's office a few times regarding that particular issue.

I was pleased with myself each time I did. The Principal, a wonderful man who happened to be black, understood and so my penalty was a simple, "try not to do it again." I love the fact that he said 'try not' because it left me open to defend myself.

I loved that painting, not because the black man would drown but because the white men would. I was sad for the black man but held no sympathy for the white ones. 

I was bullied by anglos...and I was white, just not the right white.

This "Stand Your Ground" law is fine if someone is coming after you. I go to a university that has someone robbed at gunpoint for their smart phone, so I am all about stand your ground, but... to follow a person and provoke a fight in which you begin to loose and then shoot them...that is not standing your ground. You left your ground and walked over someone elses right to feel safe.

I believe in defending myself against others but I do not carry a gun because the weight of having to use it would haunt me.

I prefer a taser...

Ziiitttt.

ZZZZiiiitttt

Oh, do not try and get up, fool!

ZZZi.Zi

.ZZZiIziIzzziz

I said don't get up.

In the end, I would want them to get up, preferably in handcuffs and knowing I thwarted an attack without killing anyone.

Stand your ground on your own turf but do not go looking for a fight you can not win and then shoot to kill.

Politicians do that and they have the aftermath on their shoulders.

The general public need not follow in their stupidity.

The Blonde












7.19.2013

The Stare Down

I have to set the story for you or the great parts will get lost without context.

I live in a hood where homes do not fall under a million bucks. I am not bragging, just showing you country hicks can invade anywhere.

A new neighbor moved in a year ago and has since built one of those hideous barbeque slash pool house slash left no money room to build a decently high end fence. They also hung a tyco tree chair in the front yard to make sure all the neighbors know they are new parents.

We know, we just do not care.

This is not a neighborhood where anyone is neighborly. There is reason for all the fences and the homes built back from the drive.

Anyohoo,

This dick wad's Grandmother died and left the grandchildren a pretty penny and so he and his wife were able to afford the house and the remodel and now think their wad does not stink--sort of like the Kardashians but on Texas steroids.

Oh yes, one more thing...


It is in my opinion, this is that guy, back in college, who liked getting girls drunk to the point of oblivion and having sex with them while they were unconscious and then brag to his buddies that he just banged the hot chick from chem class.


OK setting complete, now for the story:

Come 4th of July we bought fireworks to celebrate a very special soldier's first 4th of July since his return from the middle east--and no I will not capitalize a geographical area where woman are considered expendable but  I digress....


Not the second pop of a firecracker went off  before this bloated-belly, bourbon, drinking, dick wad comes over...


"Uh, y'all need to pack it in. I have a kid I need to lay down and sleep."

By the way this was at 9pm at night and remember only one firecracker went off.

I also had some some Shiners in me and booya, my mouth had some fireworks of its own.

"Fuck you and the hillbilly horse you rode in on and get the F...off my property! These soldiers just got back from Afghanistan and they don't sleep until after midnight. It is one night a year...Maybe instead of the fancy barbeque, you should have saved up for double pane windows and sound proof walls for hillbilly junior."

Seriously, we bought $150 worth of fireworks that would not last more than 15 minutes. This dick could have stuck it out.

"Hey, I was just trying to be a gentleman," dick wad said.

My response, "No your not. A gentleman would have introduced himself and ask politely but this is your second time coming over here demanding something, you have no business to demand. Now get your fat ass off my property"

Before all this happened, anytime his wife drove by in her gas guzzling, I am a true, Texas, Bush loving, dislike Obama because he is a Muslim Republican Chevy Suburban.....she never once looked my way. She always turned her head but today...

Guess who gave me the stare down?!

Yeah,right?!

Wife of Bourbon Billy!!!

I just kept looking at her  with that look of "Really?" It was two weeks ago and you still have a hard on for me? I was over you with the echo of my last F you to your husband.

The problem with Americans is we don't tell people what we feel.  I do but most do not and so that sentiment just starts stewing in their little heads and it comes out in stupid passive aggressive ways.

I much rather someone roll down there window and let's get a verbal get on and than be done with it.

We now both no where we stand. I don'[t like you. You do not like me. Let's agree to ignore each other like we always have.

But stare downs from now on, really?

OK..Fine!


The Blonde will start getting her middle finger ready for some flicking action!!!





7.18.2013

When a Man Loves a Woman

Andy Garcia makes me melt every time I watch him in any movie.  But the one movie that makes me fall to my knees praying I could find a man like him is when he plays the character in "When a Man Loves a Woman".

I know its is just a movie but lately that is what I use to fill my heart with. I can't find it so I watch it in films. I watch the romantic, perfect. made for movies and not at all like real life love I crave.

I craved it so much that I fell for an italian race car driver that said all the right things in the beginning and I fell for it.

And then his words started to fall away from the man he really was and so I fell away from him.

His accent was cute in the beginning but when he started to talk about things less romantic, his voice started to sound like nails scraping on the proverbial chalkboard.

For the following statements, use an Italian accent in your head.....

" My wife was not good looking."

"I do not know why I married her"

Are you sticking to the Italian accent in your head?

"I am so kinky and my wife would not allow me another woman. I think you and I should have another woman with us."

"You know my Mother was an italian model but she married such an ugly man. "

"I love women so much. I adore them and love making love with them. I think we should try anal sex. I think you would really like iiiitttt." 

"You know when I lived in South Africa, I lived with two girls and we made love together and they wanted to have my babies."

Ughhhhh....

OK..you can kill the italian accent. It is me again.

What a pratt!!

He was italian but drove stock cars and he sucked at it. Never made it in the top 10 position sin any race. he had two accidents and said he quit.

Yeah right...

I think the sponsor ditched your loosing streak.

By the way, women are following the sponsor and ditching you left and right.

After all, you did show me all the photos of the pretty girls who no longer found your accent any more attactive than I did after your word vomit about anal sex.

The Blonde hates Italian anyway...too many carbs and no substance to keep me going!!!!!!





 


7.17.2013

Dexter of Serial Daters

I was contemplating going back on the dating sites and picking out grossly inflated profiles and picking off the little liars Dexter style. Albeit that would interfere with my plans to graduate from law school if I get caught. But on the bright side, I could defend myself in court if I ever get caught and I could play the Sharon Stone's character in Basic Instinct.

Why would someone write about killing and then kill in the exact manner that she writes?

I think just a well plotted smear campaign against the atrocity of serial daters on Match should do the trick in warning women and men that they could be victim to assholedness.

For instance:

My last date of last year involved a bipolar freak who stole my brand new pair of union jack printed jeans I ordered specifically from London, at a pretty penny to me.



Why did he take my pants? He took them as leverage, saying that I owed him a $2000 for the two weeks we went out. The food and drink tab he wanted repaid.

What a WANKER!

I am 5'9" and 128 lbs. If I could eat and drink a thousand dollars worth of food in a week; I would be extremely thrilled with that kind of wicked, awesome metabolism...

but that was not the case.

We went out a few times and maybe a couple hundred greenbacks were left at the restaurants but the rest of the time he and his brother cooked dinner and lunch with amazing amounts of carbs.

They consumed amazing amounts of scotch and wine.

I ate very little and drank my Shiner. Hardly a thousand dollar pallet.

Anyhoo,

He has my pants and I ordered a new pair.

But do not think for a minute that I did not dream up fabulous ways of breaking into his house with a taser gun and waking him up in the middle of the night to scare the pants right off of him. Alas, it was only dreaming. In reality I had to succumb to the fact that he probably gave my pants to his next victim.

I wonder what he will take from her?

The girl before me lost her antique make-up table that he kept and let his new girlfriends use but she lasted 2 months. I am glad I got out early and off easy.

La Blonde says "C'est la vie, thief"!!!!

7.15.2013

I am at a Crossroad

I have reached that point in life where I no longer look outward but inward. My life is nothing more than introspection right now. This thought only comes from the feeling that I am missing something.

I used to fill that feeling of missing something by searching for a man but that never seemed to pan out and got only worse the more I searched online.

I sometimes blame the internet dating sites for killing my dream of love.

And that sometimes thought is a reaffirmed every time I make the mistake of trying it again.

I no I said I would quit and I have.

I believe I should start a dating anonymous 12 step program for people who were suckered into the thought that anyone on those sites were worthy of true commitment.

A 12 step program for the hopeless romantic that was disenfranchised and lost self esteem due to disgusting displays of worth based on nothing more than superficiality.

I have been sober from dating sites for more than a year and the next few stories you will read are offered to you as a warning.

Get sober and boycott match.com and other dating sites.

Let us start a grass roots movement to kill online dating and get back to the fundamentals of courting.

The Blonde wants Match to loose their game!!!


6.08.2013

My Dating Profile

About Me
I am just signing in to look at the fish bowl so I am using lyrics for my 100 word quota

Now tell me, how's
life in the big city?

I hear the competition's
tough, baby that's a pity
And every man's an actor
every girl is pretty
I don't like what's
getting back to me


I am not a hypocrite nor a manipulatist...if I say I am never going to meet you..than I am never going to meet you.
if you want to banter online for a bit, fine, but other than that...forget me!

First Date
don't want one...using this site purely for late night entertainment when I can not sleep and too tired to read a book.

Thank you, Thank you for supplying me smiles and laughs before I sleep.

I love fiction and short stories and my favorite author is Roald Dahl.

I can read 20 profiles on this site and see the tragedy all wrapped up in less than a paragraph.....its brilliant and Roald Dahl would love this....


BRAVO!
 
How sad is it to report the Blonde is getting replies?

6.07.2013

Long Time Coming

In the grand tradition of divas like Cher, Barbara Streisand, and Brett Favre, I have decided to come back from the dead for one more show.

I am going back to the original Veronica Bell and the tradition of bad dates and dysfunctional relationships and other stories in between.

So let's start this revival party off with a big bang and talk about Martha Stewart's stint on Match.com. I personally believe it is a stunt to help promote her nephew-in-laws new book, "Love in the age of Algorythms" but if she does go through a few of the dating motions, I can't wait for her own book.

Being famous should put a whole new spin on the dating algorithms.

And at a ripe old age of 71, the pickings should be more than slim since most men her age that use online dating are only interested in younger models. Her money and fame should pull out a lot of men willing to be her bitch and that is the part of the book I will be most interested in.

The Blonde has signed up for a second tour of blog duty!!

HOO-RAH!



8.07.2012

Ladies And Gentlemen

I regret to inform you that Veronica Bell kicked the stand right out of the cycle of life and fell into a new abyss
at


August 7



8:47 AM 




Bye, Bye
Blondie







8.04.2012

Humpty Dumpty

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the king's horses and all the king's men
Couldn't put Humpty together again


I sit not funny that I think of myself as the egg...and that I think of Augusto as Puss in Boots...

I am watching the children's movie and its ridiculous how comical the level of reality it portrays of me and my Augusto!

I am almost ready to tattoo Humpty Dumpty on my neck and Puss and Boots on my tail bone.

Life mimics art.
Art mimics life.

Who knows any more?



I only ever truly loved a few men....

and if I had to choose among them....I could not....

The Blonde has only memories now!

She will not waste them on the bad ones!
 

8.02.2012

I Am Weary

I am about to snap under the pressure of it all. Not snap in the way of doing anything crazy...just snap..

into an OOPS again kind of, sort of, way!!

Only those who have been through it, know what I am talking about.

I was going to lay down quietly and die off and be the internet martyr for all the tyranny we live under because of the 1%.

I watched a show about the billions of dollars, IN CASH, sent to Iraq...and no surprise it all disappeared.

Name blaming. Finger pointing. And pretending they are working hard at finding it when we know they are getting paid more to not find what happened to it.

I am still sick and the cost of care is beyond reproach. I have looked into medical tours offered by Costa Rica. And quite frankly, I would rather my money go to a country that is number one in environmental responsibility.

I am after all a fighter.

On the internet and in real life.

I could lay down but that would make it easy for Mitt Romney and the right wing Republicans.

So deal with us poor and ill you fucks!!!


Cuz the Texas Blonde  ain't in her grave yet!!!

Actually she is, sort of...this is an old post I found locked up in blogger limbo like my life.

I assume the politicians have changed but not the politics.

Who ever gives a shit about poor folk?