Tag Archive for Bride of the Fat White Vampire

Japanese Fan Site for Fat White Vampire Blues

Fat White Vampire Blues, Japanese cover

Way, waaaaaaaaaay back in those olden days of 2003, Fat White Vampire Blues was published in a very smart-looking edition (trade paperback with slip cover and built-in bookmark) in Japan, in Japanese. I exchanged several emails with my Japanese translator, who was incredibly sweet and polite and wanted me to explain some New Orleans local lingo so he could properly translate it. I received in the mail a small advance payment (which I greatly appreciated) and a copy of the incredibly neat-o edition of my book (which I think I appreciated even more). Then I never heard another word from that Japanese publisher. They opted not to translate and print Bride of the Fat White Vampire, so I assumed the first Jules Duchon/Fat White Vampire book had dropped like a stone into the pond of the Japanese market and hardly created so much as a ripple.

Well, it must’ve created at least something of a ripple, because I just stumbled across a Japanese fan site dedicated to Fat White Vampire Blues. If you are a fan of Jules Duchon and the series, you should go to this link, even if you don’t read Japanese, because the accompanying photos are so perfectly selected. This Japanese fan has assembled a small portfolio of fat New Orleans culture. Below is a sample: an obese cab driver waiting for his next fare.

Fat cab driver from Japanese FWVB website

Now, if I could just get that Japanese publisher interested in the next Jules Duchon book, which features a trio of Japanese super-heroes (Fat White Vampire Otaku, due out next month, May, 2014), maybe I could be big in Japan!

A The Frisky Article Which Should Appeal to a Certain Plus-Sized Vampire

Perusing the Internets, I came across a link to an evocatively entitled article, “Girl Talk: How Having Sex With a Fat Guy Changed Me.” Before you all go scurrying off to follow the link yourselves, let me warn you that (as with many articles I’ve encountered at this site) the title promises a pay-off way, way beyond what the article itself delivers. I believe this is called “link bait.” (Hey, it works; I’m linking.)

Anyway, the couple of minutes I spent reading this rather disappointingly limp article got me thinking of great “link bait” titles for other articles in this vein, titles the editors of The Frisky might come up with after a few nights spent in bed with copies of Fat White Vampire Blues and Bride of the Fat White Vampire. Here are a few suggestions:

How Watching a Fat Man Transform Himself into 180 Plump White Rats Changed My Feelings About Rodents

How Being Fed Three Quarters of the Menu at Ralph’s Po-Boys Emporium by a Nosferatu of Size Changed My Opinions of Moderately Priced New Orleans Restaurants

How Being Forced to Imagine a Fat, Starving Vampire Change Himself into a Wolf, Scarf Down Three Bags of Stolen Dog Chow, and Then Have Unintentional Doggy-Style Sex with a Stray Mutt Changed My Inclination to Donate to the SPCA’s Spaying and Neutering Fund

How Reading the Tales of a Washed-Up, 450-Pound Vampire Bragging About His Glory Days as a Masked Superhero During World War Two Changed My Willingness to Tolerate Cross-Genre Experiments by First-Time Novelists

Are you listening, Frisky editors? Link bait like this doesn’t come along every day, y’know.

Seeing New Orleans After a Two Year Absence

Not everything is A-OK in New Orleans, but lots of things are slowly getting better

Yes, indeed, I know what it means to miss New Orleans…

Not that life in Northern Virginia has been bad. Far from it. In some key ways, life has improved for my family since our move. But no other place can fully replace New Orleans – its people, its neighborhoods, its music, its festivals, its profusion of places to hang out and simply be. I tell people that life is just bigger in New Orleans than it is in other places; the highs there are much loftier than average, and the lows there are very, very low. It is a very romantic place to live. Fabulously fun if you’re single and have few responsibilities; tough as hell if you’re trying to raise a family.

So what’s changed in the past two years?

Once the site of Royal Street News, where Jules bought his big girl porn

Everywhere I drove, the streets are getting torn up and remade. General de Gaulle in Algiers on the West Bank. Loyola Avenue and South Rampart Street downtown. South Carrollton Avenue in Uptown. The treacherous old Huey B. Long Bridge over the Mississippi, connecting Elmwood and Bridge City, built during the Depression, is at last being upgraded to the standards of the latter half of the twentieth century (always a terror to drive across due to its narrow lanes, built for the cars of 1935, maybe it’ll be less stomach-shriveling a couple of years from now). Several new library branches are finally replacing old libraries that got flooded out during the Katrina disaster. I saw one going up in my old neighborhood, at the edge of Village Aurora in Algiers, still a steel skeleton but at least progressing. All good news; the tail end of all that FEMA money is finally reaching the streets.

"Fangs station" at Boutique du Vampyre

Oak Street in Carrollton is bustling, busier and more full of shops and restaurants than I’ve ever seen it before; it reminds me of what the section of Magazine Street between Louisiana and Washington Avenues used to look like, funky and colorful (before it went a little too upscale). Boutique du Vampyre has moved from Orleans to Toulouse in the French Quarter, gaining a little space in the transition. My favorite “big girls” stripper bar in the Quarter is now a memory, the place where it was on Decatur in the Quarter empty and forlorn-looking. The Maple Street Children’s Books Shop is also gone, apparently done in by the Uptown Borders Books during its brief, two-year existence on St. Charles Avenue. There are now designated bicycle lanes on Carrollton Avenue and St. Charles Avenue.

Maureen Remoulade's house in the upper French Quarter

What hasn’t changed in the past two years?

P.J.’s Coffee on General de Gaulle still serves a great cup of joe, and the gals behind the counter there are still pretty and friendly. Airline Highway (yes, I know it’s been renamed Airline Drive, but I’ll always think of it as Airline Highway) still retains its beat up used cars lots and seedy motels. Octavia Books is still one of the country’s best independent bookstores. More Fun Comics is still more fun than your average comics shop. Kim Son Vietnamese Restaurant still has a menu it would take you a year to sample every item from if you ate one item per visit and went five times a week. The streets throughout New Aurora in Algiers are still in crappy shape and will bust out your transmission and your muffler if you drive over them faster than twenty miles per hour. It is still almost impossible to eat a bad meal in the French Quarter (you can if you try, but you have to really try). The derelict bowling alley on the West Bank Expressway across from the Quality Inn (formerly the Clarion Inn, formerly the Holiday Inn) is still derelict, but all the small businesses in the shabby shopping center surrounding it still seem to be doing a surprisingly darn good business, including Pho Tau Bay Restaurant and Barry Manufacturing (where I bought a terrific sports coat for my birthday). The fire station at the corner of Shirley Avenue and General de Gaulle in Algiers still doesn’t have a repaired roof, more than six years after Hurricane Katrina, despite being only blocks away from the site of the former FEMA Louisiana Transitional Recovery Office.

Birthday dinner at Kim Son: standing are Gwen Moore, Fritz Ziegler, me, and Rob Cerio; seated are Marian Moore and Cherie Cerio

Something else that hasn’t changed? The wonderful willingness of strangers to enter into conversations, and of friends to spend hours talking in any reasonably accommodating space. I reconnected with many old friends during my visit – Fritz Ziegler, Marian Moore, Marc McCandless, Diana Rowland, and Gwen Moore from my old writing workshop group, the one founded by George Alec Effinger back in 1988; and Gulf Coast and Southern fandom friends such as Maxy Pertuit, Frank Schiavo, Raymond Boudreau, Allan Gilbreath, Lee Martindale, and Rebecca Smith. I also made some wonderful new friends at CONtraflow – John Guidry, Michael Scott, Dean Sweatman, Rob and Cherie Cerio, Jennie Faries, and Kalila Smith.

The reliably nutty Clover Grill on Bourbon Street, where Mayor Roy Rio and Lily went to be naughty

But one of the most endearing and unique qualities of New Orleans and the surrounding region is that you are perfectly capable of meeting (and very likely to meet) new friends, or at least very friendly acquaintances, virtually anywhere you go. I stopped in for a quick lunch at a little French Quarter luncheonette on Dauphine Street where I used to go when I worked at FEMA downtown, only noticing that it had a new name and new ownership after I’d sat down and looked at the menu. I ended up enjoying one of the best sandwiches I’ve ever had the pleasure of putting in my mouth – a redfish slider with dill mayo – and a great conversation with the owner, Billy, who had opened the place, Nosh, only a year earlier. I wanted to buy myself a sport coat to replace one I’d torn a hole in and ended up at Barry Manufacturing at 95 West Bank Expressway, across from my convention hotel. I used to be in sales myself (I sold Saturn cars and trucks for a brief time), so I appreciate a sales job done right. Alphonse at Barry did me right; I saw one jacket I fell in love with, but it fit me like a glove, with no give whatsoever, and Alphonse was honest enough to tell me I’d have problems if I so much as gained a pound. He didn’t have the same jacket one size bigger, darn it, but I liked his stock, and I liked his prices, I liked him, so I looked until I found another jacket I liked almost as much, and that fit me much better. Sale!

Making the donuts at Marrero's Coffee &, a West Bank spot Jules Duchon wouldn't mind hanging out in

And then there was Coffee &, a little coffee and donut shop on Manhattan Boulevard in Marrero that I’d driven past hundreds of times when I lived on the West Bank. I’d never gotten around to stopping in there, even though I’m a big coffee drinker; I think their tinted windows sort of put me off, making me dubious of what I’d find if I opened their door. But Saturday morning I found myself in their strip center and hungry for breakfast and desperate for coffee, so I said, “What the hell?” And you know what? I loved the place! As soon as I walked in and saw the counter and the counter staff and the selection of donuts and the signs listing the breakfast specials, I said to myself, “Ooohh, nice, I like this joint…” I sat at the counter near the door into the kitchen, where I could watch the staff mix the batter for the donuts. I got scrambled eggs and hash browns and coffee (with endless refills, of course) for less than five bucks. Plus, I had a super time kibitzing with the staff. You know you’re in a good spot when one of the customers sitting next to you is an employee, there during her own time, who came in for coffee and breakfast because she likes the place and loves the people who work there. A neat bonus was that Coffee & sells coffee travel mugs exactly of the type I’ve been looking for – all plastic, so safe for the microwave, with a sturdy closable top that won’t leak on me. Liked ‘em so much I bought two to bring back to Virginia with me (the second one for Dara, who deserved a new coffee mug).

My only disappointments with my trip were that I wasn’t able to bring my family down with me – all three of my boys were born in New Orleans – and that I couldn’t squeeze in more time to visit with my mother-in-law and my cousins than I did. And there were old favorite bookstores and coffeehouses I didn’t get to. I’ll just have to find excuses for more trips, I guess. The place still feels like home, and I suspect it always will.

Country Flame, one of the best spots for cheap eats in the Quarter

Sinead and Jules: the Emails!

Sinead: lookin' for LURVE...

Well, following my post of last Monday, when I attempted to make a Love Connection between Sinead O’Connor, currently on a self-professed “man hunt,” and my old buddy, Jules Duchon, the transatlantic emails flew fast and furious! Romances flare so hot and fast in this Internet Age; then burn out just as quickly. Looks like it turned out to be a case of, “close, but no cigar.” We all tried. Jules tried. Sinead tried. I tried. At least we all parted friends.

With the permission of the two parties most directly involved, I am publishing their email correspondence, in hopes that star-crossed lovers everywhere can take some solace and wisdom from the thoughts exchanged between Jules and Sinead.
jules_vampomatic@yahoo.com: Hi, Sinead. This is Jules Duchon. Andy Fox’s friend. Andy gave me your email address and said I should write you. He showed me your list of requirements in a boyfriend. There was nothing there I couldn’t handle. Your pics are cute, by the way. Glad you aren’t bald anymore. Bald women give me the willies. So you like big “snuggly” guys, huh? They don’t come much bigger or snugglier than me. Oh, I have to admit (this is sort of embarrassing), I’m not really familiar with your music. I’m more of a traditional jazz guy than a pop music guy. But Andy played me one of your CDs, “Am I Not Your Girl?” The one that’s all jazz standards? It was really nice. I like it. You’ve got a great voice. If the rest of you is half as good as that voice, I think I’m in love.

sinead_iamwonderful@me.com: I’m the kind of woman who is unfortunately terminally unsuitable for the role of wife or girlfriend. I am accursed. But I have begged God, that while he rightly banishes me from good men like yourself or Robert Downey Junior or Adam, could he salvage me a few from the section in-between guys like youse and guys like the one this week who because he is living with the mother of his children offered me ” a once off experience which will guarantee you years of masturbatory material and will involve you crying in pain and being humiliated in a corner” Yikes!

jules_vampomatic@yahoo.com: Well, y’know, at this point, I’m not really looking for something big-time serious, so I don’t think that’s a problem. See, my last girlfriend (actually, my “vampire mother,” if you want to get formal about it), Maureen, she kind of broke my heart. So I’m sort of looking to play the field before jumping in the deep end again, if you know what I mean.

sinead_iamwonderful@me.com: I don’t want my not being suitable wife or girlfriend material to mean I never again get kissed so much that I have to go around the whole next day with fat lips on me, giggling like an idiot, mad from being rogered so hard all night and me voice ruined from screaming. I don’t want to never again have to wear a polo neck to hide love bites from my daughter so she won’t know I love sex. I don’t want to never be snuggled. Or told I’m gorgeous. Or have no reason to shave my legs. I don’t want to never bury my nose in a stubbly man’s face again. I want the end of my nose red raw from sniffing smelly men’s stubbly faces. I want my whole face and neck sore from stubbly men sniffing me!

jules_vampomatic@yahoo.com: I really like it when you talk about “love bites.” I’m REALLY into love bites. Also, I’m just fine with rubbing my stubble all over your neck and face. Kind of hard to avoid it, in my line of work. If you know what I mean.

sinead_iamwonderful@me.com: Baby, I’m supposed to write a follow-up to last week’s plea for a man, not a yam, but I’m so inundated with offers that I’m holed-up (sorry) in Planet Of The Apes, the only beauty parlour which will take me, and even then only round the back door in the middle of the night, but then I like a bit of that now and then don’t I?

jules_vampomatic@yahoo.com: Hey, great, I really like the Planet of the Apes movies, too. But only the original series, the ones from the 1970s. I thought the remake from a few years ago, the one with that Marky Mark guy, kind of sucked, big time. Don’t know about this latest one, Rise of the Planet of the Apes. Haven’t gotten out to see it yet. Maybe when it lands in the cheap theaters. Can’t say I remember a beauty parlor in any of the original movies. Oh, wait, didn’t Zira go to a beauty parlor in Los Angeles in Escape from the Planet of the Apes? I forgot about that. Sorry.

sinead_iamwonderful@me.com: But I need to finesse my requirements based upon this week’s responses to my plea. I want to ‘make lurve’. Sweet and filthy LURVE. With sweet and filthy men. If u don’t have both sweetness and filth don’t apply. I want ‘sweet lurve’ with music on. Say it again Sinead .. Like u really mean it this time.. I WANT TO BE LURVED STUPID BY SWEET FILTHY MEN WITH MUSIC ON. Ok? We clear? Ahem… Good. Now I wanna know what music you’d lurve me with.

jules_vampomatic@yahoo.com: I would LURVE to make LURVE to you with some good music on the stereo. You like New Orleans music? Do you get WWOZ radio on the Internet over there in Ireland? I’ve got this buddy, Porkchop Chambonne, who does a sort of traditional jazz thing mixed with some old school R&B. He’s really cool and a really great guy, too. Another local guy I really like is Mem Shannon. Although I’m not sure he’s local anymore; seems to spend a lot of time in Memphis. Lots of New Orleans musicians moved out to Austin or Atlanta after Katrina. Real bummer.

sinead_iamwonderful@me.com: Im revising the language from ‘ humping’ to ‘lurve’ because humping became misleading. Am a bawdy thing alright on twitter etc, and a joker, but in fact secretly I’m quite a good girl. Just naughty enough. And I wanna be ‘lurved’

jules_vampomatic@yahoo.com: I am totally into that LURVING thing, like I said. What kind of food do you like? You look like a nice, healthy, husky girl. Do you like New Orleans food? Jambalaya? Fried oyster po’ boys? I know some really great local joints around here.

sinead_iamwonderful@me.com: I promise to behave like a lady unless you kiss me and then i can only promise i will melt and the ESB will have to shut the whole country off for the night and a day or so after.

jules_vampomatic@yahoo.com: Well, I sure can appreciate a lady. Not sure what the “ESB” is, though. Or how they would shut the whole country off. You’re in Ireland, right? So, is “ESB” “Electricity Sending Board?” “European Socialization Bureau?” Did I come close? I’m not always that good a guesser, and I’m not too familiar with European stuff. Maureen used to make cracks about my being a “spud head.”

sinead_iamwonderful@me.com: Please will you try to make the ‘normal’ people understand that anyone even remotely connected to the music business are so because we are intellectually and emotionally unsuitable even for criminality. We are morons with 16 year old adolescent senses of humour, which are only made worse by attention being paid. We are as children whose unwanted behaviour should be ignored.

jules_vampomatic@yahoo.com: I totally understand where you’re coming from. Maureen always used to rag on me for being “immature” and “unfocused.” Like she was my mother or something… well, I mean, she WAS my vampire mother, but that’s different. Anyway, like I said before, some of my best friends are musicians. And my sense of humor is kind of “adolescent,” too. We got that in common, I think.

sinead_iamwonderful@me.com: My father often said affectionately of me when I was a child ” you could bring her anywhere twice. Second time to apologise. Never a truer word was spoken and it’s what I want as my epitaph. I did once ask Alan Shatter to spank me. Years ago. Cuz he’s a ride. And no I don’t think it’s inappropriate to sexualise our politicians. I think it’s most appropriate we should. They should feel good going to work. If i was Alan or Enda today being discussed in such terms by a fine filly like myself I’d be very flattered. Of course Alan turned me down. As sensibly, did Adam Clayton (the only do-able one in the band). I wonder if he’d known I would have let him in the tradesman’s entrance would he have stopped to think about it for a millisecond.

jules_vampomatic@yahoo.com: Maybe things are different over here in America. I mean, the only American politician I remember getting sexualized was Bill Clinton back in the 1990s. Oh, well, yeah, then there was Senator David Vitter and his hookers. Still ended up voting for the guy, even after that whole D.C. Madam thing blew up in his face. Better the dog you know, I told myself. And then there was that Anthony Weiner guy, who emailed or twittered or something a picture of himself in his underwear to some underage girl. He was up in Brooklyn. Had to yank himself out of Congress. What a dumbass. So, well, maybe Ireland and the U.S. aren’t so different after all. You’ve given me something to think about.

sinead_iamwonderful@me.com: I must say, my greatest amusement this week is that on this day last week I had 3 followers on twitter. since I mentioned anal sex I have almost 2000! The funniest question I was asked this week was ” arent you insane to talk about anal sex in public?” Answer? No! Rude? Yes. Bold? Yes. ” inappropriate? Arguable. But insane? Why THAT’S insane!

jules_vampomatic@yahoo.com: Uh, anal sex? You’re Catholic, right? I hope I don’t come across as some kind of a prude, but I’m really a “missionary position” kinda guy. I’m pretty traditional between the sheets. Oh, there have been times when I’ve strayed off the straight-and-narrow. There was this one time I was stuck in Baton Rouge, after Malice X burned down my house. I had nothing to eat, I mean, I couldn’t find any necks to put a bite on. So I stole some dog food and transformed into a wolf, just to get something into my stomach. Well, to make a long story short, while I was in my wolf form, I ended up humping this stray bitch that was in heat. Couldn’t help myself. Totally out of my control. So, yeah, I’ve done it “doggy style,” I guess. But that’s about as wild as I get.

sinead_iamwonderful@me.com: I want you to clarify for all who may be concerned that Sinead is in fact 99.999% vaginally oriented but has experienced the odd shall we say ‘bark up the wrong tree’ and immensely enjoyed it. Apart from that and an as yet un expressed desire to get royally rogered while wearing nothing but stilletos, by a man wearing a regular business suit which she could clime all over, and an intense enjoyment of light to not especially painful spanking, is as “kinky” as the girl gets.

jules_vampomatic@yahoo.com: You know Sinead, you sound like a really nice girl, and I sure appreciate your emailing me back and forth, but I’m thinking, maybe we aren’t too compatible after all. Maybe it’s my Catholic school upbringing (they were really, really STRICT back in the 1890s), but I just don’t think I’d be comfortable trying to meet your needs. Anyway, I checked out your blog, and I see you’re into Dave Chapelle, big time, and you dig black guys. I’ve got a good friend who’s black. Actually, two good friends who are black, if you also count Porkchop Chambonne, but I think Porkchop is too old for you, maybe. And he might be on the traditional side, too, like me, when it comes to pleasing a woman. Anyway, this other guy I want to mention, his name is Preston, and he’s a vampire, like me. But he’s black. And he grew up in the 1960s, not the 1890s, so he’s like, more liberal than I am when it comes to the sort of stuff you were talking about. Nice guy. I don’t think he looks much like Dave Chapelle, but maybe if you squint real hard…? He’s not a bad looker, not really. Anyway, I took the liberty of passing along your email address. So maybe you’ll be hearing from him. Good luck finding that special guy you’re looking for. Been nice emailing with you. Do another jazz record, okay? That would be great.

If you’re of a mind to, follow the rest of Sinead’s epic quest for a man on her personal blog. Like Jules, I wish this outspoken and very talented lady all the luck!

Sinead and Jules: Is It a Match?

Sinead O'Connor, hungry for a big red-hot hunk of room-temperature man

Breaking News! An update to my post of August 9, 2011, “Wild-Ass Rumor of the Day: Is Sinead O’Connor Angling for a Role in ‘Fat White Vampire Blues?’

I think we have a Love Connection in the making, my loyal readers. This is Big. This is Historic. I honestly believe that Sinead and my dear friend, Jules Duchon, can be the Cathy and Heathcliff of the new millennium. Or at least the stars of a new hit reality show.

On August 20, 2011, Sinead wrote the following post on her website, entitled “Sinead on a Manhunt:”


“The man who runs my site will protectively suggest I may want to visit the bathroom for a few intimate moments and a subsequent cold shower before deciding to post this on the site but I will of course ignore him as it’s too late now and the her-moans are having the best of me.

“I recently read of a woman in America who married and regularly humps her truck. I don’t yet own a truck but I’m beginning to understand her head space. And am worried I too may be so desperate for sex that within days I might run up the road and hump Bray Cab’s whole fleet in one hour. Forty quid clear-up afterward. Can’t say fairer than that. Except maybe a photo for their web-site. Which would be fine.

“My shit-uation sexually/affectionately speaking is so dire that inanimate objects are starting to look good as are inappropriate and/or unavailable men and/or inappropriate and/or unavailable fruits and vegetables. I tell you yams are looking like the winners. I actually do know a woman who is a performance artist from America. I have a photo of her being escorted arm in arm by two uk police man onto a plane back home cuz she humped a yam in the middle of her show. I just know that’s going to happen to me if I don’t take drastic action.

“Needless to say what I do for a living makes it hard for me to find men that only want me cuz they like my (legendary) arse. Yet I am in the peak of my sexual prime and way too lovely to be living like a nun. and it’s VERY depressing.

“So I’ve been pondering on whether or not I should join some Irish dating agencies. Of course if I did it would end up in papers so I may as well save myself the registration fees. Besides which a friend of mine uses dating agencies and half the men actually have wives.

Sinead, you and Jules could make beautiful music together...

“Am in desperate need of a very sweet sex-starved man.

“He must be no younger than 44.

“Must be living in Ireland but I don’t care if he is from the planet Zog.

“Must not be named Brian or Nigel.

“Must be blind enough to think I’m gorgeous.

“Has to be employed. Am not fussy in what capacity generally but vehicle clampers need not apply.

“Leather trouser- wearing gardai, fire-men, rugby players, and Robert Downey-Junior will be given special consideration. As will literally anyone who applies.

“I like me a hairy man so buffed and/or waxed need not apply.

“No hair gel.

“No hair dryer use.

“No hair dye

“Stubble is a non-negotiable must. Any removal of stubble would be upsetting for me.

“No after shave.

“Must be very ‘snuggly’. Not just wham-bam.

“Must be wham-bam.

“Has to like his mother.

“Has to like his ex and or mother/s of his children.

“Has to live in own place.

“I must end now as I have a hot date with a banana

“Applicants can apply through my secretary at vampyahslayah@yahoo.com”

Sinead, I am honestly sorry to hear that such a talented, interesting, and attractive woman as yourself is in such a state of needfulness. Although I’m not a talented, interesting, and attractive woman myself, I’ve been there, believe me. I know where you’re coming from. Thank God, I’m married now; otherwise, I might try to pass myself off as your ideal beau. Actually, you and my wife could be sisters. If you were Russian-Jewish instead of Irish. And if you’d had a nose job. Dara has a gorgeous voice, too! She used to sing in our synagogue choir. Maybe you’d consider hiring her as a backup singer for your next album? But enough about me. This all about you. You and Jules. Let’s take a look at your list of requirements. I really do think my friend Jules stacks up quite well in terms of what you’re looking for. Here are those requirements again, with my notations in brackets:

Am in desperate need of a very sweet sex-starved man. [Jules is nothing if not sex-starved; please read the first half of Fat White Vampire Blues. And his friend Rory “Doodlebug” Duchon, who knows what a woman wants, considers Jules to be very sweet.]

He must be no younger than 44. [Jules is well over 100 years old.]

Must be living in Ireland but I don’t care if he is from the planet Zog. [Lives in New Orleans, but is of Irish ancestry–is this good enough?]

Must not be named Brian or Nigel. [Check.]

Must be blind enough to think I’m gorgeous. [Thinks Maureen is gorgeous. She is a four hundred pound stripper. Might find you a bit on the skinny side, but he is a man broad in his tastes. Don’t think you have much to worry about in this department, Sinead. Really, I’d let you know if there were any concerns.]

Has to be employed. Am not fussy in what capacity generally but vehicle clampers need not apply. [Drives his own cab. Self-employed in a virtually recession-proof business!]

Leather trouser- wearing gardai, fire-men, rugby players, and Robert Downey-Junior will be given special consideration. As will literally anyone who applies. [Not sure whether leather pants are available off the rack in Jules’s size, but I’m sure there’s a leather shop in the Quarter where he could have them custom made.]

I like me a hairy man so buffed and/or waxed need not apply. [Check.]

No hair gel. [Check. Hair gel is too “Bela Lugosi” for Jules.]

No hair dryer use. [The dude wouldn’t know what a hair dryer is.]

No hair dye [He’s happy to go silver. Looks distinguished on a vampire.]

Stubble is a non-negotiable must. Any removal of stubble would be upsetting for me. [Jules is not known for the consistency of his shaving habits.]

No after shave. [See above.]

Must be very ‘snuggly’. Not just wham-bam. [Jules is extremely snuggly, all 450 pounds of him.]
Must be wham-bam. [How can you not be “wham-bam” when you’re Jules’s size?]

Has to like his mother. [Jules basically worshipped his mother. Had a portrait of her over his mantlepiece.]

Has to like his ex and or mother/s of his children. [Jules risked permanent death to avenge the destruction of his ex-significant other, Maureen, by a very, very mean vampire.]

Has to live in own place. [Had his own house, inherited from his mother, but it was burned down by Malice X. However, basically inherited the French Quarter home of Maureen, his ex-significant other, after he lost his own house.]

Not only that, but, like yourself, Jules is a partially lapsed Catholic with a very strong emotional tie to the Church. As you probably know, religious compatibility is a key to a successful long-term relationship.

And hey, check out that email address that you list: vampyahslayah@yahoo.com !!! Vampire Slayer?? Could anything be more obvious? This isn’t merely a woman who wants to star in Fat White Vampire Blues… this is a woman who yearns for the intimate touch of the fat white vampire himself. Don’t be coy, Sinead!

Sinead, I am not a licensed matchmaker, but I have passed along your contact information and your list of requirements to Jules. Please expect to receive an email soon (but after sundown, Central Daylight Savings Time, of course).

Update: Dear readers, I have the emails to share with you. Warning: may not be suitable for viewing at work!

New Essay Added to Articles Page

I’ve posted a new essay, A New Hope, A Different Tack, to the Articles Page. It’s a bit of “where I’ve been” mixed with some “where I am now” and a dash of “where I hope to be soon.” I hope you enjoy it.

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