living with a woman who loves her some vampires, is difficult for endless is the sweet sorrow, of never having known the thrill of someone biting her neck for a transformative transfusional exchange of body fluids, makes her sigh periodically as she applies her makeup
Dutiful man, you do something about it!
I sweep in when damsel is vulnerably unsuspecting, sweeping her blond tress from her neck, applying combinatory kisses and nibbles, she shivers delightedly, b u t inevitably indubitably
emits a gasping sigh of great and delicious length, signaling she must finish her makeup applications lest she be forced to begin all over again and her deep regret that her-nice jewish lover is,
still no zombie
p.s. and when she makes a sign of the cross using both pointer fingers, to shoo me away I retort “Boy oh boy lady, have you got the wrong zombie”