Dear DeWolf--Love advice for the Lost--all in fun

DEAR DEWOLF

Dubious advice on love and more.

(If you choose to take this advice seriously, well, you will get what you paid for it.)

Dear DeWolf,

Are you aware that this is a awesome and scary night? Just watched a total eclipse of the full moon and a Harvest (blood) moon at that! I've heard rumors that this may be the end of time? Can time stop just like that? I heard that some guy named Einstein thought that time was determined by your relatives. Some kind of theory regarding relatives that probably had to do with my successful, geek brother who is retired at 28. What the Hell did he do but build some silly fake orange? Or was that an apple recipe? But the moon really spooked me tonight. I hear that werewolves are out and about. Then I turned on the radio and some oldie band was playing “There's a Bathroom on the Right." Then they said something about "Bad Moon." (Make up your mind.) Anyway, after hearing that, I needed a bathroom right away! So, tell me that everything is going to be O.K. The way I see it, you know just about everything!

Runner to the Bathroom.

Dearest Runner,

I think you mean "There's a Bad Moon on the Rise." There is no such thing as a “bad moon.” Just a misunderstood moon that wants to ebb and flow as the oceans do. I'll be you fear oceans too, and probably puppies. Nevertheless, you will be safe in any moons as long as I watch after you. Full moons do bring out the werewolves but they feed mostly on cowards, dweebs and random irritations to society. You couldn't possibly be one of them! So, privately email me your address and I'll be there in a bite, whoops, a bit later. I need to brush my fangs... I mean teeth first and find a nice warm fur coat to wear. Not to worry. No animals died in the process of making my coat! Looking forward to preying, ah, praying with you against all possibilities that you should see the end of time for this world, at least.

Chow I mean Ciao,

DeWolf   

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear DeWolf,
I have a bit of a crisis. That's what you're there for, your “brains” right? (By the way, brains can be scrumptious when prepared properly—I like them raw!) Certainly you're aware that we zombies move so slowly that we couldn’t catch a dang turtle. On top of that, we are kind of pungent—frankly we stink. Even flies are disgusted with us. Back to my problem: outside of losing the occasional limb, I have a lovely Zombie woman – she calls herself Swinkie. She was a seamstress at her pre-deceased date. Unfortunately and ironically, she was the seamstress for Jack the Ripper. We laugh about that a lot—ha, ha! Well, we are a morbid group. Anyway—and I am so scattered you know LOL--I bought a motorcycle so we could travel and eat quickly. There is nothing like trucker’s rest stops, y’know. Lonely, tired guys and truck stop wh.. I mean women wandering around looking for something and they run into us--talk about a blue “collar” special! (Sometimes they do run into us, you know? Doesn't hurt though.) However, Swinkie was very much sliced and diced by Jack R.I.P., but I was left fairly intact from when I met my death. That made our first road trip kind of a bummer. We got onto my cool, blue Harley, I started the engine and made tracks. Unfortunately, her head snapped back, twisted around like that Exorcist gal (man was she scary,) then her noggin unwound and went bounced down the highway, Swinkie howling like a banshee. Then she lost another part her upper anatomy (just one) that I was rather fond of. Well, I’m not good at sewing, but she has become rather whiny (can't stand the stuff by the way) about the Frankenstein Monster-looking stitches around her neck. Also she is talking about getting a real plastic surgeon to put in some implants she was able to procure, at a deep discount. Nonetheless, even as Zombies go, she's pretty hideous and is scaring away some delicious meals. Please give me some suggestions on how to solve this problem. I'm getting tired of eating those who are too stupid to run away.
Biker Zombie

Dear Biker Zombie,
I would advise you not to call yourself a Biker yet. If your girl keeps literally losing parts of her body, then you might want to ease into the throttle. Another thought! If you can afford a Harley, buy a Singer Sewing Machine and read the instructions. She may delight in the new, fanciful designs. Yes, they have hand-held ones, so you don’t have to shove her into front of the machine. Also, may I suggest you take her to a University for a treat and eat a Professor’s brain. They may have a gaseous effect, but are known to be nutritious. Also, they're pretty damn slow-moving.
Have you ever found the DeWolf Spice guide to Brains and sundry organs, to challenge the taste buds of the gourmet? You can become a monthly member of the DeWolf Club for amazing spices that are healing and also spice up that sex life up! Guaranteed to please, just send send your check to the P.O. Box XXX, Deadwood, Oregon 97666-6666.
Just out of curiosity, I am going to privately email you and ask, how is your sex life?
Best,
DeWolf

Dear DeWolf,

I am a weary werewolf.  Yes, we are supposed to be immune to anything but a silver bullet, but as the full moon arrives, I’m getting tired.  Been around for a few centuries and I’m getting cranky.  My hair is falling out in spots and is losing its luster.  My teeth are wearing down, especially along the fangs.  Can’t go to the dentist for obvious reasons.  Accidentally did that on a full moon cycle and that Dentist, although delicious, didn’t have time or inclination to help me.  Yup, my howl is going hollow.  What is an old werewolf to do?

Running on empty

Dear Running on empty,

I do have several ideas for you, however, having thought it through, the idea of a Vet seems not the best idea.  May I suggest the several Pet Stores and even catalogs for Veterinarian care out there?  They have everything from grooming kits, lustrous fur shampoos, vitamins and toothpaste – even meat flavored.  Also, older canines do get stiff joints and there are many good medications out there for those painful hips.    Treadmills will help you to keep running, and finding a mate never hurts on those hungry, ornery nights when you have to hunt alone.  Please try to hunt the really mean human critters, will you?

Dear DeWolf,

Yes, I know you’ve heard it all before, but being a Vampire really sucks.  Yes, the sweet, succulent flavor of blood is groovy, but man, I got turned during the sixties and now I’m feeding on all sorts of Vampire wanabees.  They dress all Goth, I’m guessing they mean Gothic styles, but it is so done!  I tend to dress in jeans, t-shirts and the occasional hoodie.  I still look 18 and was/am rather cute.  In the evening, I start out casual and end up in the city with a more glamorous look.  Just catching more prey.  Yeah, I get hungry too. 
Alrighty, help me, please!  I am sick of the dudes (duds) and the club brats I run into.  Hell, (forgive my language) their blood is so mixed up with weird designer drugs and booze that I barely make it home.  My preference is young blood, and unless the peeps are cold, mean rotters, I don’t like to take them out, but what is left?  I have standards!  No Boy Scouts, babies, Virgins or happy families.  Rock stars have already had most of their blood sucked out and many are already Vampires.  Have you seen a few guitarists lately? 
So, where do I go?  Have tried hospitals, blood banks and rodents.  Not my style.  Suggestions?
Thanks,
Vampire without a cause

Dear Vampire,
You seem to be one with good taste.  You have found our blog/magazine which shows great intelligence, perception and knowledge.  However, you have an urgency that the aftertaste and aftereffects of your resources – human blood - are not up to your supernatural palate.  What to do, what to do? 
After long thought, eating garlic and having a wood stake by the bed, I think I have your answer!  I like spy novels for fun.  I imagine you as an Agent for good.  Hold on Vamp, I know you can act!  You join the CIA or some fabulous, secret agency and Yay! You become an agent.  Flying all over the world, however you like, you take down the truly horrifying, murderous tyrants on this entire Planet!  Saving children, animals, decent folk and anyone you’d like.  You could change the world. 
Not only that, I will supply you with a new injectable herb that creates a cleansing, toxin-free blood with a variety of flavors if ordered.  For a price, you may join my DeWolf Club and pay monthly!  Or just send it to your boss as an essential. 
You go, Vampire!  I have a bit of faith in you.  Every bat has their day.  Sangria is another option.
DeWolf

Dear Whatever,

You are probably "writing" to me (as if I'd talk to you - sniff) because you are alone and bored. It is a wonderment that you ever found this site. Would no one else listen to you anymore? Well, I do understand you. In our mind we deserve the perfect equivalent of our mirror image. For me, that would be a 25 year old, Sports Illustrated Cover Girl for the Swim Suit Model edition, with the mind of Einstein, and the literary gift of Shakespeare, Yeats, Mark Twain... plus, the composing and playing gift of Mozart, the mind and art of DaVinci, with my own quirks in place.

Sadly, the mirror is from an old fairy tale and that was one evil Stepmother - "Snow White." So, let's face it! A kind heart, someone who delights you, cuddles and loves you, ain't that bad. Wear rose colored glasses, if need be. Although, many men can't pull them off!

Women give treats to men when they deserve them, like a good dawgie!

With laughter,
DaWulf
----------------------------------------------------------


Dear DeWolf,


Dah, you are a self-proclaimed, no knowledge advice columnist?  Why should I ask for any advice from a perfectly strange non-entity like you?


Signed.
Suffered Enough

Advice from Dahwolf

Dear Suffered Enough,


Of course you shouldn’t heed any advice I give, but I do have credentials.  Until I married a nice man, I went after every con-man, self-absorbed egotist (often in the guise of artistes) and narcissist that you could imagine. Yes, some were great looking, some were great in other areas… nevertheless, they were better at loving the mirror, or themselves, or both.  So, as an older woman, I can only borrow these lyrics:  “Send in the clowns, there ought to be clowns…” don’t bother – they’re here.”  Man or woman, like Janus I have seen two sides.  I like/love men, and I like/love women (as friends and sisters).  So, I only go by my abysmal failures and occasional wins.  Ya think “Dear Abby” or “Dear Penthouse” has all the answers?  If you think “Dr. Phil” or even Jerry Springer have answers, please don’t write.  I beg you!
I can be sardonic, but I also like a good laugh.  I laugh at myself endlessly.  So, don’t write, or do write.


Cheers!