This is nothing to do with vampires, really. Except when I was in high school, the “cowboys” would call me a vampire to make fun of me. This was not entirely them being abusive: some of them literally believed I was a blood-drinking undead thing which was alergic to sunlight.
That was only partially true.
I don’t think I technically qualify for being alergic to sunshine, but I certainly don’t go for it in a big way, and I don’t cultivate a tan (which is hard to avoid in Florida).
I’m also not clear on the “undead” part. The prefix “un-“ sort of makes the following word into a negated noun or adverb, so un-dead would mean the opposite of dead, which is alive, I suppose. So I’m alive, which is, logically, undead.
I did drink people’s blood, though I wasn’t so silly as to believe it made me live longer or lent me special abilities, let alone that it would sustain my life purely on its own merits. That’s for melodramatic morons; drama students and religious-right republicans.
The point is, I should be updating my own website, but I’m a prat and lazy and this was here and I felt like playing. Playing with other people’s stuff is fun. Playing with my own stuff is… well, masturbation (or work), which is not as good as playing with others.
Don’t misunderstand; I still completely like masturbating. It’s good fun when you have to get to sleep soon and feel like looking at all the digital camera offloads from your little sister, and it sure beats dealing with fucksticks in clubs and wasting all your money on $6 piss-water beers or badly mixed mudslides. The point is, I prefer to fuck about in other people’s places, not put forth the effort of cleaning up my own.
Eh, so… How are you?
Did you know you have some male masturbating and playing in your shit?
Or was that playing in your shit to avoid masturbating?
laughs and goes back to reading the Grimoire