There’s nothing quite worse than having an olde friende that you just…can’t…seem to reach, try as you might. I have such a friend. He was a lover, once.
Ah yes, the fun we had. Frolicking and making love where ever we pleased. In back alleys and in the beds of whores as they bled out. Those were the days.
But that was quite literally centuries ago. For a vampyre however it feels like just yesterday. I would choke a nun to have just one more night with him. Funny, I say that just like mortals like to pretend they could eat a horse. Have you ever tried to eat a horse? Not as easy as it might seem.
But I digress.
My olde friende is out there. I can feel him in my blood. In my balls.
Come to me, my love. Let us kill again. Together.
Linda G. Hill 
You know what else takes centuries? Waiting for these leather pants to finally dry off.
Haha!
Really cuts down on the stealth-factor as well.
Not to mention the whole, “You’ll never hear my footfall” thing. Haven’t you heard the urban legend about the wet, squishy, non-stealthy vampire? Grab yourself a nun and then come sit by my side, I’ll tell you all about it. Then, if you’re still hungry, we’ll grab some horse. Hey, do you know where my old velvets are? I really do think it’s time to change the bayou known as my pants.