I think I have my very own vampiric minion. Maybe more than one. I'm so excited. Today I went to the vet, where I became a vampire in the first place, and they took my blood again. This is at least the fourth or fifth time they've taken my blood. I became a vampire after the third time, but that was a while ago. They've taken it several more times in the last two weeks, and I've had it taken at the other pet hospital with the Spice tank, too. They have my medical records, so they must know I'm already one of them. My only guess is that they are taking my blood to turn others into my servants.

I've been calling these servants all day, but I haven't heard anything from them. If you are one of my minions and you are reading this,

GET YOUR MINIONIC ASS HOME RIGHT NOW!

I've got plans for you goobers. First, one of you will get me a top hat. I think I'd look pretty good if I just had a top hat to go with my tuxedo fur. Then we're going to watch all twelve episodes of Fawlty Towers. I've been told that it's finely-crafted humor if ever there was such a thing, and it seems the vampiric thing to do. Plus, it'll be a master-minion bonding party. I'll send you all out to the 7-11 on the corner for a couple six-packs of blood and a tin or two of unagi and we'll stay up all night. I've got the tapes that include interviews with John Cleese. After that, I'm thinking we could all steal each other's seats for a little while and then nap for maybe fifteen hours. We could play a few hands of whist or the Henry V Storytelling Trading Card Game. Maybe if I have enough minions we could get a LARP going. Half of you could play wangsty, pretentious teenagers who corner people at gaming conventions and talk at them for hours, while the other half could play responsible vampire gamers who play the game to have fun and interact socially without bothering other people. Anyhow, these plans are all tentacle. They could change if one of you has a better idea. Basically, though, I want you here soon.

I've had blood taken from my neck for the third time this month. I'm a vampire! This isn't quite what I was hoping for, though, since it looks like I may not be able to eat normal food again---I just threw up some kitty treats. Still, I think it's going to be worth it all. Plus, maybe my stomach is just upset during the transformation.

As I was getting out of the transport pod that we use to go to and from the vet, I noticed all of the yummy things that I could never eat as a cat but whose blood I can surely suck as a vampire. Why, just outside the door we have ivy, grass, trees, and several shrubs I can't identify. Mmmm...

I'm kind of bummed that I can't get a ride to Hot Topic to pick up a kitty-sized coffin. Consider this a goth shout-out to my homies in the San Francisco Bay Area: Can any of you with wheels get me to Hot Topic and back? Alternatively, do any of you with your ear to the goth ground know a place in or near the Fremont Hub that sells small coffins?

I was planning to shave a bit of my head to get a window's peak, but then somebody pointed out that I already have a reverse window's peak, so I'm thinking maybe I'm a reverse vampire. For example, perhaps sunlight will be okay but moonlight will burn. If so, do I have to worry about all indirect lighting? What about flourescent lighting?

Anyhow, I'm in the market for minions. I picked up an apprentice last week. (Hey, W.L.P!) One of my roommates said I'm her master now, so I have one minion. I think the chicken butler fell through, though. I'm still in need of people to eat bugs, play organs, run smoke machines, butlerate, and dance on tax returns.

There are so many kinds of butlers. I wonder which kind Peep will be. Will he be like Jeeves, refined and subtle, brilliant, and capable of out-weaseling even the most weaselly weasel? Perhaps he'll be like Lugg, a professional criminal with enough of the trappings of civility to serve you catnip tea and not to strike you with a tire iron. I think I hope he's not like Alfred, who is clearly the power behind Batman's throne. I mean, Alfred is cool and all that, and he sends his minions out to fight crime, but I'm not sure how I'd take to wearing a vinyl suit and calling myself "Batkitty" or "子蝙蝠ちゃん" or something crazy like that. I'm kind of hoping that he'll be at least a little bit like Hobson, so he would iron my newspapers. Mmm... Is there anything sweeter than sitting on warm, crinkly newspapers eating hotdog and unagi salad?

Anyhow, the one thing I hope he isn't is a fanatic. I'm not sure why so many butlers have declared a jihad against labor-saving devices like blenders, washing machines, and mouse traps, but I will not have mine smashing them. You'd think butlers would like machines. I mean, imagine how hard it would be to make turkey Julius by hand.

I'm thinking of hiring a gentleman's gentleman. In less sexist and racist language, I'm thinking of hiring a gallinaceous butler. However, what with butlers being all feudal, I thought it would be kind of absurd for me to describe it in any way but the old-fashioned one. Anyhow, I was looking through back copies of the newspaper and found the cutest picture of a chicken butler:



His name is Peep, and from what I can gather from his home page, he has a college degree. I mean, I don't think they'd let him wear a black millboard for a regular high school graduation. Yep, I'm going to hire a college-educated chicken. His home page doesn't have that much information on his educational background, but I'm hoping he has a degree in cooking or quantum mechanics or philosophy or Japanese or psychology or unagi engineering or something like that.

I guess I'm going to have to cross chicken-related products off my to-eat list. Fortunately, I can probably convert them to turkey.

Updates to the to-eat list

• chicken strudel
  
• turkey strudel
  
• chicken Julius
  
• turkey Julius
  
• turkey fingers
  
• turkey cheesecake

I'm expecting good things to come from having a chicken to buttle for me. If I'm hungry, I'll be able to say, "Peeps," for that is his name, "I'm feeling a bit peckish." Then he'll say, "Would Madam like some turkey strudel?" Then I'll say, "With a glass of pheasant Julius, if you don't mind." Then he'll say, "Not at all." Then he'll scuttle out of the room on his little chicken feet, whip up some delicious food, and bring it back. He'll present all of this to me on a silver plate while saying, "I hope Madam doesn't mind, but I took the liberty of preparing an unagi and hotdog salad." Score!

• unagi and hotdog salad

He'll also change the way I interact with people. If you want to scritch me, you can leave your card with my man Peep. He'll make sure you have a comfortable place to sit on the stairs, don his bowler hat, and butlerize off to find me. I'll read your card and, if I like you, I'll invite you into my drawing room (which Peep will need to build at some point in the near future) where you can scritch me. If I don't like you, Peep will take off his bowler hat and jacket and tell you to shove off. If you don't go, he'll get rough and call you "cully" and butlerate your ass out of the house.