During the last few decades, I’ve grown lazy. Indolent.

I’d like to blame this on the internet, but redirecting personal responsibly is such a human trait. People are forever trying to blame their personal shortcomings on everything except themselves. Now it’s the fashion to blame the web … before that, it was television; before that, radio; before that, books other than the bible; and, before that, lewd cave paintings — I know that didn’t make it into your history books, but I assure it was all the scandal in the Neolithic era.

In this brave, new always-connected yet always-alone era of smart phones and twitter feeds and hipstomatic self-obsession, it is painfully simple to hunt. I don’t want to sound like some old timer reminiscing about how hard it was to hunt during the crusades – it was; practically everyone, it seemed, had a broadsword, a wooden cross and a death wish –but vampires these days have it far too easy. Before the internet, before Craigslist, before “in room massage” became a synonym for prostitution, we had to fight tooth and nail for every meal, and it was so deeply satisfying.

Now, a well-placed online ad brings the prey to your room like take-out that delivers itself.  And of course, no one makes a habit of telling their friends, family and loved ones that they are on the prowl seeking casual erotic encounters in a hotel room. It’s always a mystery, then, when some pillar of the community disappears without a trace. My recommendation: check the dumpster at the nearest sleazy hotel or the chatlogs of tie me up and punish me dot com.

Because I love the flavor of malfeasance in my meals, I’ve given up on the women or men (remember, you never know who is placing the ad) looking approach. Now I amuse myself by placing ads selling expensive baubles bound to attract the unsavory – and thus savory – elements. Something along the lines of “grandmother must part with diamond necklace at reduced rate.” That brings out the thieves, let me tell you, and they are delicious. Imagine their surprise when they arrive at my specially rented house only to find out that grandma is a tiger in human-ish form. “What big teeth you have” they scream just before they soil themselves and succumb to my exsanguinations.

Maybe you’ve read about the computer-assisted hunting sites where humans – mostly pathetic males with joysticks where their penises should be – pay for the privilege of killing some big game animal or another all over the convenience of a wireless connection. A few clicks, a few hundred dollars, and you can zero in a mechanical rifle remotely and experience the joy of a taking a life, of spilling blood, from a thousand miles away and in the comfort of your own home. I envision them sitting in the dark, masturbating to the carnage. I wish I was there with them. Delicious.

It may be easier for some humans to hunt now thanks to computers, but hunting remotely is something no vampire will ever do. Why waste all that delicious blood. Death is only a source of life when it’s leaking into your mouth and filling you with the energy of the prey. In fact, I think I may place an ad tonight. “Lonely widow interested in selling the big game rifles of her husband. I’m all alone and hard of hearing, so please knock loudly.”

Like it? Got something to say? Do it on Facebook or send e-mail us at cowboyandvampire@gmail.com!раскрутка