The 1960’s were a glorious time. Things were much less hectic and the people were rather delicious. There were far less pollutants in the environment to taint the taste of the blood. Not to mention the ideals, morals and standards were substantially higher then. That’s far more than what I could say about modern times. I sometimes wish it were still the 60’s. The land was not as crowded. Then men were dapper and suave. The women were radiant and sophisticated. After the 60’s, everything went to shit.

I do recall one past time, I was quite fond of it. Not only did I have a delicious meal, but I probably went down in history as the only man to deny the blonde bombshell of that era. Many would have killed for a night with her, let alone an hour. Not I. My father, Eric, seemed intrigued with her and my sister, Pamela was utterly enamored. Then again, Pamela is enamored with anything that is soft and sodden between their thighs. I was clearly unimpressed. The bleached blonde hair, the make-up enhanced mole, the overindulged pout. I saw right through it. She was a beautiful woman, no doubt. She was glamorous, iconic and her curvaceous body and short stature that was quite idealistic for most men. Most men, except me. In case you are too dim witted to catch on to whom I am referring to…

How could one pass up such an offer as her? Well, I saw more in the maid at where we were staying. Her long legs and flowing dark auburn hair caught my eye and the gleam of my fangs. She was Brazilian with golden skin, kissed by the sun. She was plump in all of the right areas, begging to be caressed and bitten. She was delicious with some spice. Her flavor was exquisite, quenching my nearly insatiable thirst. I am told I am quite the picky eater. A fault of mine. Certainly not a defect, but more of a personal choice. I can appreciate a good blonde, but I prefer the brunettes. Now, I know. The busty beauty was originally a brunette, but that hairdye… it turned me off and made me shrug my cold, dead shoulders.

After her scandalous, controversial and infamous death, I did have a twinge of regret that I did not get a taste of her like my father and sister did… but only a slight twinge. When you are a member of the elite undead, you soon learn that people come and go. Whether they are famous or not. Beautiful or esteemed, everyone passes and new ones come to replace them soon after. That is not to say that some do not leave an impact on us. There are those that can some how find a way to warm a vampire’s heart. I have yet to have that happen. All in all, everything fades and turns to dust. Except those of us who are privileged with this “disease” of vampirism.  We just stay young and, for most of us, alluring forever. I don’t know why many others haven’t found that appeal of it yet. There are many I would have the great pleasure of sinking my fangs in for that sweet rush, intimate or not. Then again, lately the humans I have come across make me wonder if there has been a massive epidemic of mental retardation. It is almost enough to make one lose hope in the human race. Almost. I’ll give them some credit. You have your perks, and you are most definitely delicious at times. Maybe I’ll try to be more open minded, but please… fucking fix yourselves.