Guest blog by ex-vampire baby on bites and the World Cup

By Gaius Julius Rex

Artistic interpretation of the World Cup,
recent bites and my teddy bear.

Yes, it is me Gaius Julius. I return from the (fictional) dead for a special World Cup report, after much pleading by the human blogger, Lucianne Poole.

Naturally, you are eager for an explanation as to my lengthy silence. I will only say it is related to the recent resurgence of 80s fashion.

Furthermore, I am no longer vampire baby. I am now ex-vampire baby and most currently a vampire adolescent. I will explain: I am experiencing the equivalent of what you call in human terms, puberty. My tricycle, monopoly-playing and trampolining days are over.

I have entered a new chapter in my fictional life, which involves the following. (I am going to use bullets):

• video games, which my mother, T. Rex, describes as "aggressive",
• various hair products,
• strange new feelings that lead to indiscriminate (vs. discriminate) biting.

This brings me to the World Cup. Uruguay's Luis Suarez was banned for four months for taking a nibble out of the Italian soccer player Giorgio Chiellini during the June 24 match, which Uruguay won 1-0.

At first, Suarez valiantly defended himself and denied the bite. Since then, Mr. Suarez, apologized to Chiellini. I applaud Mr. Suarez for taking responsibility, however, isn't it time to come out of the coffin and be counted as a [deleted]? My lawyer edited this blog.

This is the end of my post.

Guest blog by fictional vampire baby: the search begins

By Gaius Julius Rex



Dear human readers and fellow supernatural beings,

The human blogger, Lucianne Poole, has asked me to continue with my posts. Apparently, millions of readers follow my posts avidly, so I graciously agreed to prop up her feeble human blog for a bit longer. (She has also promised me a role in her next novel).

Free at last
I thank the thousands of you who signed my petition to release me from the clutches of my fictional jailer, Madame Defarge. (FYI my petition was fictional, which explains why you will never find any names.)

Thankfully, my foster mom, T. Rex, was persuaded that I did not need said babysitter, and she got Madame a job as a greeter at a chain store.

Silver linings
Once freed, I naturally turned to a project that was occupying my thoughts while I was in the "slammer". You will never guess, human reader, what this project is so I will tell you. I was inspired by Madame's favourite TV show, Who do you think you are, to track down my birth mother.

Of course, I assume my birth mother is a) a world-champion trampoliner b) an outstanding Monopoly player.

Obstacles
So I jumped on my tricycle (my faithful cat Gengis Khan at my side) and raced up and down the sidewalk on Las Olas Boulevard. I asked everyone whom we  hit/knocked down if they knew my mother.

All I got was:

• a $5 bill;
• a pamphlet about Latter Day Saints, and
• two lectures about: a) leashing cats  b) staying away from drugs. The last lecture was inappropriate as I was only born this year during vampire spring break.

Not a cry for help
If you have ever searched for your vampire mother after she abandoned you on a beach, please share your advice and lessons learned. I eagerly await your reply.

This is the end of my blog.

Guest blog by fictional vampire baby behind "bars"

By Gaius Julius Rex

 

Greetings humans, fellow supernatural beings and Mr. Coyote,

The human blogger, Lucianne Poole, asked me to guest blog for her for the rest of the summer. It's not clear why she needs time off, except for the usual feeble human excuse of summer vacation.

My unforseen incarceration

I was going to write something earlier but I have been "jailed".

This is due to a misunderstanding of the nature of Independence Day (aka Fourth of July) celebrations, specifically the "firework" displays in my neighbourhood of Fort Lauderdale. I was unfamiliar with the sounds of destruction that accompany this holiday. I mistook screams of delight for those of terror.

Unfortunately, these sounds triggered a instinctive reaction in me that was unforeseen by my foster parents and Nate, the human with whom I was playing Monopoly at that specific time.

My new babysitter/jailer

Since then, my foster mother, Theodora Rex (aka T. Rex) banned me from playing Monopoly and has engaged a fictional sitter called Madame Defarge. She speaks only French (no, not even Latin or ancient Greek), knits incessantly and cackles at inappropriate times (such as when I complete a New York Times crossword puzzle: my new hobby).

Mme Defarge also trims my talons, I mean finger nails, too short so they no longer make interesting clicky sounds. Her only redeeming quality is that she lets my cat, Gengis Khan, relieve himself on my parents priceless Persian carpet.

Life behind bars

T. Rex has sent me for baby massage therapy to calm my "murderous impulses". I strenuously resist but Mme Defarge has an iron grip like T. Rex. She pummels me with such sledge hammer-like force that I am reluctantly lulled to sleep.

In effect, she has become my jailer, so I thought I would use this blog to start a petition to free me (There are currently no websites for fictional petitions).

Please leave your name in the comment below and also indicate if you are interested in playing a fictional game of Monopoly when I am declared no longer "life-threatening".

This is the end of my blog.