I am a pandora's box.

Let loose upon an unsuspecting society.
Once my night life begins,
complications arise.

Let me pen an example.
Keep in mind, it was not my fault.
well, not entirely.

I awoke in my usual good humor.  
I dressed with my usual care.
I gave more than adequate time to
the choice of parties to crash.
I fed Crystal.  Picked up her toys; dead mice and a human ear she had gathered from some unsavory alleyway. Kissed her upon her flea ridden cantankerous little head.

Then I stepped outside of my crypt.

Pandemonium ensued!

Young lads running hither and yon.
Screaming!  ****** functions letting loose.
Not mine, I should add.

You see, it was all quite innocent.
Upon my stepping into the moonlight, one of the young bucks, at that exact same time, jumped out from behind the bushes.  Which flank my lair.

He had on the most ghastly costume.
Red cape.  Black tie and tails.  Fake fangs!  
Fake blood dripping from whitened lips.

I may have over reacted....a tad.
My preternatural instincts erupted.
I saw, briefly mind you, a rival in my territory.
I went from the Gentleman of night time adventures, to my full Monstrous glory, in the blink of an eye.

I dropped six inches of battle fang.  I bulked up to three times my normal, quite muscular, size.
Ruining yet another splendid jacket.  
Oh, what to tell my tailor?

There you have it!
Young men, out and about, on an All Hallow Eve's lark.
Running about as if the Devil himself were after them.

When it was only I.


~Lord Kellington


I hope you have enjoyed our little journey with Lord Kellington.  In what must be just a snippet of his long lived life.  
I grew to love his wit, his charm, his devil may care attitude and his kitten..Crystal.
But, the time has come.
I now close the cover on this dusty Tome, to place it, reverently, upon my bookshelf.  Maybe, on a stormy, wind swept night, I may take it down, to open it once again.
Or perhaps, Lord Kellington, is at this very moment searching for his lost Diaries.  To save them from prying eyes, such as ours.  Wanting to **** all who now know his secret.
He could be in your home right now.
Hear that sound?  It wasn't a floor board, nor the house settling.  Nor the wind.
As you are now engrossed with your reading of my warning, he could be standing behind you....right now.
Reaching out with hands like claws.  Fangs, ready to rip out your throat...
                    LOOK OUT!!

Happy Halloween  
Bwwwwwaaahahahahahaa

Being that I am a philosophical being.  I find myself pondering many unique thoughts, as I sit and stare off at the night time sky.

Earlier, I dined upon a sweet, young flower seller, down at the Square.  She wore a shawl about her shoulders ,that were stooping too soon on someone so young.  As though the weight of all her thoughts, rested upon her delicate shoulders.  Well, she has no need to worry now.  After I sampled her blood, I slipped a thousand Pounds into her skirt pocket.  It always does good for a shepard to tend his flock.  

Ah yes!  Pondering thoughts.

I wonder what would happen, if  were to awake to be mortal once more?
What if I were to conceive an allergy to blood?
Maybe I should allow myself to fancy myself in love and marry?
What if I were to enter a church in all my monstrous glory?  What fun!
Or, what if I was no longer welcomed by Polite Society?
What if my tailor quit!?
Or say, if I were to reach out to you, the reader of my night time missives, right now.  Grab you 'bout the throat and drink deep?  Ha!

But, what nonsense I ponder and write of.
For I will always be welcomed among Polite Society.  I am far too charming not to be.
My tailor, although routinely vexed with me for the late night hours I employ his services, would never quit me.  I pay his exorbinate fees without qualms.
The rest of my meanderings. Ha!  I fear not a one.

But, the mere thought of Crystal having kittens herself....GADS!

~Lord Kellington

I had gone looking for trouble.
I found it.
I had awoke in a sour mood.  Very unlike myself at all.  I am usually, always in good cheer.
Almost, always.
I was spoiling for a fight.
The need radiated from me.
Even Crystal could sense the difference in my demeanor.  
The flea bitten, sweet, craven coward.
After donning my new Peacock blue cloak, with the black pipping and carrying my gold tipped, lions head walking stick. I left straight away.
I walked for miles.  Ending up in the seediest part of the city.  The Docks.  
I aimlessly wandered the filth strewn, cobbled streets.
Passing many an Ale House.  
Finally, my preternatural hearing found the sounds of a fight.
Why, it was an all out riot.
Off I flew to join in.
Fists flying.  Daggers plunging.  Walking stick cracking skulls.  (that would be me)
What fun!
I held back from using my immortal strength.  I wanted to feel each time my fist met flesh.   To have to Pick teeth out of my knuckles.
One chap actually caught me a rather right smart jab to my chiseled chin.
Exhausted, the men crumpled to a heap.
Only I remained standing....and the fifteen or so Policemen watching the fray from a respectable distance.
I have always prided myself on being a law abiding, upstanding citizen.  As it were.
So, when they started gathering up everyone and loading them into the Jail Wagon.  I went along, as a lark.
What a buffet!
By the time we reached Central Station, I had sipped upon many a fine blood.
When the Police opened the rear doors of the wagon, I jumped down to the ground, tipped my hat to them and simply (to his eyes) vanished.
Preternatural speed can be so amusing, when used correctly.
By now, my description will be bandied about.  A well dressed gentleman ghost.  A polite wraith.  A handsome demon.  
I like that.  A Handsome Demon...very apt.
I am in a much better spirit now.


~Lord Kellington

There's a party going on upstairs,
your invited, to come and have a scare.
H.G. Wells, will meet you at the gate,
costumes required, hurry don't be late.

Vincent Price will be tonights D.J.
Halloween is his favorite Holiday.
He's spinning "Thriller", while dressed up as "Kiss".
Watching Claude Rains do the "Transylvania Twist".

Steve McQueen came dressed up as the "Blob",
he's serving up the zombie shish-ka-bobs.
Elsa Lanchester placed real bats within her hair.
While Marty Feldom keeps yelling "Frau Blucher".

At the stroke of the witching hour,
St. Peter amps up all the power.
A disco ball drops down from a cloud.
Out on the dance floor, forms a massive crowd.

Michael Jackson then leads them all in dance,
while Lon Chaney and Karloff take their chance,
to join the angels in harmony,
While "Monster Mash" is sang by Lugosi.

Even the Devil made it through the door.
He's the one sporting an Elvis pompadour.
So much fun is had by one and all,
at Heavens Annual Halloween Ball

Crystal is once again, up the draperies.
She has a veritable path of claw marks
leading from the floor to the curtain staff.

I have decided to ignore her when she does this.
But, as she is lurking behind me, atop the draperies, it is not an easy task.
At any moment, I expect her to pounce.
Ah!  Like father, like daughter.... in a sense.

I realized tonight that I excel at being a Vampire.
never a drop goes to waste.
Never a witness spies me.  Not one that lives, that is.
Never do I go hungry.
Never am I bored, or boring.

Why only earlier this night, I went to the Ballet.
A spritely tune was played by the orchestra, while dancers ran hither and yon upon the stage.
I was dressed all in black.
Bland I know.  But "Society" demands somber dress
at the oddest occasions.

I have my own box, from which I enjoy my privacy, while enjoying the entertainment.
Oh, not the entertainment on the stage.
The entertainment of playing the gallant host to my next meal.

I wine and dine them.
Regale them with lively anticdotes.
laugh at the right moments.
Look regretful, when called for.
Show shock, when due.
Outrage, when warranted.

In the end, they leave my box and my company, none the wiser.
mayhap a bit wan and listless.
But, always grateful for a lovely evening.
They always blame their condition on the wine.
Ha!


~Lord Kellington

We sat at the table, waiting for our number to be called.
Their pepperoni pizza, was our most favorite one of all.

Our number is announced, George is carrying the pizza back.
When close, he decides to act, as though he  trips in his tracks.

In slow motion, that pizza, slid so smoothly out of the pan.
George's eyes got big as saucers, he saw the folly of his plan.

There I was in my new outfit, that cost half of my paycheck.
With pizza, upside down on my lap and sauce splashed on my neck.

Amazingly calm, George scooped the pizza up in his hands.
Melted cheese, stretching and stringing, from my pants in gooey strands.

He stood there patting and pressing the pizza back into shape.
That poor pizza looked just like a badly, bulldozered landscape.

It lay there sort of twisted, pepperoni all to one side.
Crust pieces stinking out of it, like a saucy red mudslide.

Then he sat down across from me, silently as if waiting.
I must have looked like a blonde fish, sitting there, just gapping.

Then a chuckle escaped my lips, as his eyes raised to meet mine.
He looked just like a little boy, who just got caught in a crime.

I'm surprised we didn't get kicked out for making such a fuss.
'Cause, next thing you know, the whole place is laughing along with us.

We couldn't stop, there was no way we'd been able.
Not while upsidedown-lap pizza, stared at us from the table