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So: Twilight talk over the lunch table at school today.   You know how much I love that, boys and girls…

“Blah, blah, blah, New Moon trailer…”

 (I know it’s juvenile, but every time I hear that title, all I can think of is a debut display of someone’s ass…)

“Blah, blah, Rob Pattinson so hot, blah blah…”

(“Hot”, and playing a vampire that’s meant to be freezing to the touch.   Man, I love the unintended irony of the modern vernacular…)

“Ooo!   Kristen Stewart’s hair!   Blah, blah!”

(Okay, I’m totally tuning out about now… Thinking about having spilt my snack the other night on my favourite shoes, and what the hell to use to get blood out of a blundstone.   Occupational hazard.)

“Oh blah!   Breaking Dawn plot…”

(Another stirling title there.   The wonderfully plausible Midnight Sun made me laugh until I hurt.   I might try ammonia…)

“Blah de blah, when Edward got her pregnant, blah de…”

 

 

Say what???

Okay – I’ll bite.  

“What the fuck?”

Exactly.   Edward apparently knocks Bella up in the most recent novel.   I’m still laughing when the bell goes for class, and I spend biology (so appropriate) breaking into random giggles whenever Mr Scholes tries to discuss the reproduction cycle of plant life.   Hello detention, and a stern talk on it being “time to grow up and gain some maturity”.   Poor Mr Scholes.   He has no fucking idea.

Neither does Stephenie Meyer, apparently.   Time for Revenant Physiology 1010, kids.

Undead.   Returned from the grave.   Walking dead.   Reanimated corpse.

Are you getting this?   Dead, people.   And contrary to Meyer’s amazing leap of illogic, that includes all the little sailors downstairs.   I might kill you after, but I’m sure as hell not going to impregnate you during.   Minor perk of my situation – teen pregnancies haven’t a chance in hell.   How many other teenage guys wouldn’t just love to know they’re shooting blanks?   Come now – hands up.   You know it’s true.   It’s not like we’re anxious for paternity, for fuck’s sake.   We’ll just stick with ‘for fuck’s sake’.

And why else do you think my species has developed the actual reproduction technique we have?   Play with the chew toy until it bites back, and lo!   Two of us!   Sure, some hang around humans too long, get clucky, and end up biting themselves a nice kid.   (NB. I kind of love the phrase ‘getting clucky’ when it’s actually coming from the other white meat…)   But parenthood forever is pretty much akin to the horror of high school forever.   Our own instincts kick back in sooner or later, which rarely ends well for poor immortal Junior (remind me – I’ll tell you a story about that some other time).  

Basically, it’s easier for the doting undead to just snatch themselves a human baby and play mommies and daddies for a while.   Either the little tyke grows up and you can abandon them when you get bored of the game, or you end up with  a nice home-grown meal at some point.   Win-win.

We’re bloody careful (pun intended) about creating new un-life though.   Contraception usually involves incapacitating, so your lunch doesn’t accidently become your offspring.   Who wants a bunch of inept adult dependants to suddenly deal with?   Or your sandwich to start calling you daddy, for that matter?

So that’s yet another nail in the coffin for the Twilight credibility stakes.   And dammit.   Ammonia on blood stains seems to be a myth too.   Man.   You just can’t believe anything you read nowadays.

 

NEXT ENTRY…

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