Sparkly Dildos and Homicidal Twihards

I have officially seen it all. Really.

I tried to read the Twilight series, I honestly tried. I can swear on the Bible if I have to. I tried and I failed. I rarely do that and I have an ego, so you must appreciate the amount of effort that I need to admit failure. There’s no point in explaining this entire Twilight frenzy, anyone who’s over 12 is aware of the sparkly vampire cult that has been killing contemporary literature and cinema. I’m not a fan, I couldn’t care less who gets to bang Bella and I think that the only good things that came out of this whole mess were the soundtracks and Robert Pattinson (and not in a “OMG he’s a hottie” kind of way).

I understand the passion for the story – what girl doesn’t dream of a vampire lover who doesn’t melt in the sun but sparkles like a diamond? I still believe that Stephanie Meyer pooped on everything that means “vampire” but hey, somebody had to take this step. But I do appreciate the film producers for having given us Pattinson, who in spite of his sparkly debut (I will use this world a lot, just so you know) is already beginning to prove himself as a real actor. His interpretation of Dali, his beautiful performance alongside Emilie de Ravin and his upcoming “Water for Elephants” are examples of this young man’s potential.

  “Well, I had to start somewhere, right?…”

But I’m not here to discuss the quality of Meyer’s books nor am I here to question Kristen Stewart’s ability to act or the fact that I became allergic to Taylor Lautner’s torso by the third movie, because of overexposure to it. No, I’m here to discuss the rabid fans and company decisions based on rabid fans.

It all started here, where I first realized how stupid people are. I got there by randomly googling for the word “Batshit”. Don’t ask. We’re all fans of something or someone, don’t get me wrong, I’m most likely to slap whoever says something bad about “The Mentalist”, for example, but this fanaticism should have its limits. We live in a free world, so there aren’t any limits. That is why we hear about jaw-dropping cases where a batshit insane Twihard decides to shoot a flare gun at a guy who dares to talk against Twilight. My personal favorite is that lunatic chick who tried to slid a colleague’s throat with a shank because he had the audacity to say that Twilight should be destroyed, since it’s making some people do bad things such as slitting throats of people who don’t like Twilight with shanks. The word “paradox” just captured new meanings.

  “New subspecies of humans: Twihards. Mostly females under 18.”

 When I was sixteen I too understood sobbing over a hottie actor that played a vampire. Back in my days, those vampires were Tom Cruise, Brad Pitt and Antonio Banderas – now those were the days, long before Cruise decided to go cuckoo and Pitt decided to have a platoon of kids. They drank blood, love-hated their existence and looked awesome with long hair and white shirts. Anne Rice knew her stuff, I have to give her credit for offering such tales of passion and death glazed in blood. I still understand sobbing over a hottie actor that plays a vampire. I understand being a fan. What I don’t and will always refuse to understand is why they don’t release some anti-psychotic medication along with every Twilight movie. Give them out for free but please, do us all a favor and give them something to contain their unjustified anger towards people who just don’t agree with a lousy book (and movie).

But this isn’t the peak of ridicule in the Twilight saga. No, it gets worse. Yes it does, trust me.

I present you with the TANTUS VAMP. Yes, it’s a dildo. But not just any dildo. It’s a Twilight replica – basically it’s Edward’s dick, it sparkles in the sunlight and you can keep it in a freezer prior to using it, just to get that tingly sensation of screwing a dead man.

Below, we have a very satisfied customer…

What I like the most is the company’s presentation. “We promise this vamp won’t be the only thing coming for you in the night!”. I reckon they’re currently working on a dildo version for Jacob’s dong, as well. It’ll probably come with fur and a set of claws to make the experience more real.

 “He sparkles!”

“Don’t be surprised if this toy seduces you, its long sleek shaft and deliciously ridged head calling out to you in the night. But don’t save this for just nocturnal escapades, try taking our Vamp out in the sunlight and watch it sparkle.” – I don’t know who laughed harder in the process, the “engineers” who produced its “deliciously ridged head” or the copywriter who had to write about it. It’s like they’re telling women to be proud of their sparkly dildos and take them out into the sunlight, for the rest of the world to see just how far people can go over a damn vampire movie. Most of us keep the dildos hidden in the lingerie drawer, for Christ’s sake!

I’ve finally concluded that our world is slowly disintegrating, thanks to people who strive for profit over culture, profit over common sense, profit over mental sanity.

But now I know what I’m getting my best friend for her birthday!

  “You’re never gonna guess what’s in there!”


The smell of ink and paper.

[the top rated comments are priceless, I can’t stop laughing]


THIS PIECE got me started.

So what were the books that changed your entire view of life back when you were a teen? They asked. I answered.

My first “mouth wide open and unable to let it go until I finish it” experience was with Hermann Hesse’s “Steppenwolf”.

It turned me around in a million ways, it delighted me and it scared the living daylight out of me. It consumed me, my fingers were glued to each page and I couldn’t bring myself to put it down. I ditched school and sat for hours in the park, constantly struggling with that book. I didn’t let go of it until I finished it. I remember getting pissed off when my mother called me to supper. Those were ten minutes that I wanted to spend with Hesse. My stomach obeyed and I skipped dinner. I skipped breakfast. Two days and five pounds less later, I had finished it. I took a deep breath and fell in love with this writer. My next adventure was “Siddartha”, but we’ll get to it later.

Boris Vian was the next who troubled me. “L’Ecoume des Jours”… or “Froth on the Daydream”. Or “La Schiuma dei Giorni”. However you want it.

It’s still an incredible read. You haven’t LIVED if you haven’t read this book. The story just hurts too good. Having a lily growing inside your lung and killing you slowly, watching your wealth shrink, literally shrink every day… the guy is either completelly off this earth or he just smoked something really really good. If it’s the latter, I want in, I’m sorry but I’ll have whatever he’s having and whatever triggered him to write this incredible story. It’s beautiful, it’s sad, it’s profound, it’s sweet but there’s also a slight sense of bitterness and cruel reality just lurking under each page that you flip as you continue to read. It’s something that you just HAVE to read, believe me. I was eighteen when I was introduced to this book and it felt like I should’ve done this even earlier. If there are teenagers in your radius, tie them down and glue this book to their fingers. They’ll thank you.

Let me see… what else happened to blow my mind when I was still ridiculously young and thought I had the world at my feet. I won’t say “The Alchemist”, I’m sorry, it just didn’t work for me. I read it in two hours and it didn’t even make me paint anything. No, that wasn’t it. But Paulo Coelho wrote something else that hit me quite deep. “Veronica Decides to Die”. I don’t know about you, but it did touch me. It touched me so deep that when the movie came out I was suddenly stuck in a seventh heaven.


Now let’s see. What else hit me really bad, in a really good way? Oh, wait, I remember! You haven’t been a real teenager if you haven’t read at least one Anne Rice book. Seriously! I started out with “The Mummy”, then came the Vampire Chronicles. No Team Edward vs. Team Jacob bullshit, no glitter skin pretty-boys and defective 17 year olds. No way, dudes, just the original vampire stories. “Interview with a Vampire”, “The Vampire Lestat”, “Armand”, “Queen of the Damned” (one of my favorites) and my absolute favorite, the one I’ll read over and over again because it is just so cool and daring on a different level: “Memnoch the Devil “. By then I had already realized that I wanted to be carried away every time I read something. I wanted the story to grab me by the ankles and just pull me into its world. And this one did it. It was the first step to a certain maturity, I have to admit. There are certain steps that you must take before you can dare to read other, greater works. That’s just my humble opinion.

I think that the complete series is worth a read. I dare you to do it. And I urge you to pay a bit more attention to “Memnoch the Devil”. I think you’ll figure it out once you get there.

I’ll finish today’s babble about books with my favorite author and, so far, my favorite book. The fuel to my fire, my deliciously torturing addiction, the literary work of a master and (I think) a genius. A true tale, a consistent painting of what a story should look like. It’s engaging, it thorough, it’s a champion by excellence. I have no words to describe the book that has really (BUT FUCKING REALLY) changed my life and my vision of everything that surrounds me. All I can do is urge you to read it, if you haven’t already. And if you’ve read it before, do it again. It’s still as cool, even if you read it three, four or fifty times.

I’m talking about Neil Gaiman’s “American Gods”. It kicks a lot of ass.

I’m just doing my part in educating what’s left of our society and I’m pointing fingers in the right directions. This is most likely to be a warm up, there’s plenty more where this came from. You’re fucked.

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