Three vampires went into a bar and sat down. A comely barmaid came over to take their orders. The vampires tried to be neck romancers, so they flirted with her by telling her how much they liked her blood type. But she rebuffed them with the reply “O negative” and asked, “And what would you, er, gentlemen like tonight?”
The first vampire said, “I’ll have a mug of blood.” The second vampire said, “I’ll have a mug of blood.” The third vampire shook his head at his companions and said, “I’ll have a glass of plasma.”
The barmaid called out to the bartender, “Two bloods and a blood light!”
Then they all toasted each other by shouting, “This blood’s for you!”
Vampires love to drink blood because they find it thicker than water. In fact, I know a vampire who was fired as night watchman at a blood bank. They caught him drinking on the job, and he took too many coffin breaks.
Long ago, vampires sailed to the United States in blood vessels and set up their own terror-tories. They bred like crazy. It seems as if there’s a sucker born every minute.
Many of them settled in the Inland Vampire region of Southern California, and others became bat boys for the Colorado Rockies Horror Picture Show. Still others tried playing high-stakes poker. Some vampires went on to college and earned a place in Phi Batta Cape-a. Others perfected their skills at blood-sucking by attending law school.
From all over the world vampires gather each fall deep in the forests of Transylvania. They sit around the vamp-fire and reverently stand at attention and swear allegiance to the Draculation of Vein Dependence and the Bill of Frights.
The most famous of all vampires is, of course, Count Dracula. He grew up as a spoiled bat and can be a real pain in the neck and get under your skin. Even if he pays for dinner, he’ll still put the bite on you.
Dracula once fell in love at first fright with the girl necks door. All she had to do was bat her eyes, and he’d give his eyeteeth to have her as his vein squeeze. The Count even wrote love poetry to the woman. He went from bat to verse.
She was 6 feet tall, and Dracula loves to suck up to women. But he’s remained a bat-chelor his whole life because his love affairs are all in vein. Anytime he courts another vampire, they end up at each other’s throats.
Any mortal woman to whom Dracula is attracted soon realizes that life with him will be a draining experience, so she’s not likely to stick her neck out for him. It’s hard to get a good night’s sleep because of his terrible coffin. Even coffin drops don’t help.
Moreover, Dracula isn’t a very attractive fellow: He can’t see himself in the bat room mirror and so is unable to brush his teeth, comb his hair or tie his tie. This situation causes bat breath and the disease the Count fears most — tooth decay. The fiend went to the dentist to correct his bite, but he still ended up with false teeth, which, for him, are new-fang-led devices that, like Dracula himself, come out at night.
Dracula finds his victims in any neck of the woods. He just hates it when they try to cross him. Whenever the police come after him, the Count simply explains that he is a law-a-biting citizen. He loves the deep plots and grave setting of a cemetery, especially when the temperature rises above 90 degrees. Then he sighs, “There’s nothing like a cold bier on a hot day.”
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