Apparently the current vampire craze is not just a teenage phenomenon.
According to media reports, women in their 30s and 40s are getting hot under the collar for the likes of Pattinson, Lautner and Lutz—which explains why, on Saturday night last while I was readying myself for a night of passion with my nearest and dearest, she insisted not on handcuffs or a whip but a set of fangs, big fat plastic ones that she had picked up at the local drug store.
Her insistence on my wearing the ill-fitting teeth for an entire session of lovemaking suddenly made asphyxiation, distemper or just plain death by misadventure a likely outcome to the evening.
Alas, the growling sounds, caused by my desperate efforts to breathe through a mouthful of plastic had the desired effect. When the session finally commenced, I looked like Bela Lugosi on Wreck Beach. When it was over, eighteen minutes later, I looked like Bela Lugosi, on Wreck Beach, with rabies.
Until this current craze has passed I'm left with no choice but to bide my time till the next full moon or consider having myself neutered.
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