Look, before this goes further... let's clear something up:
I don't want to date you. Okay? I'm not interested in a relationship. I get the feeling you probably think we're going to have some kind of weird, offbeat connection. A few chance meetings near the cemetery just after sunset. We'll know it's wrong, but we won't be able to help ourselves. We'll talk. We'll stand too close together. And we'll come back for more, again and again until a strange kind of love blooms between us, and I let you into my dark world.
Yeah, well... That's not gonna happen.
I just attack the living and drink their blood. I don't get all fancy with it.
Here's how I do things: I get hungry. I wait in a dark alley or behind a dumpster, and just grab someone and drink their blood. It could be an old lady or an overweight dude with a comb over and terrible BO. I don't care who they are or what they look like. You remember the last time you found a really weird potato chip in the bag? Strange shape? Maybe a little green? I bet you ate it, didn't you? That's my point. I don't get involved. It's the same reason people don't name the animals on a farm.
Look at me. I'm dressed in a filthy track suit with a picture of Tweety Bird on the back. That's because 20 minutes ago I traded clothes with a dead guy in the parking lot of a Sizzler. (I love Sizzler. People walking out of that thing move slow. They're like stunned cattle, which is pretty ironic. I could do an ad for PETA).
I'm sorry if you're disappointed. Let's just say that some folks -- I won't name names -- go on TV or appear in the movies and ruin it for the rest of us. I run across people like you every day, and they always want something I just can't give them. Don't feel bad. Happens all the time.
Tell you what. If you want a little excitement... I'll give you a five minute head start.
Anniversary Post: Double Tenth Incident - On this day in 1943 was the Double Tenth incident. This was during the Japanese occupation of Singapore. On 26 September 1943, an Australian military unit ...