My Son, class of '77, in New Orleans, who spends his days teaching dindu youth in the 14-18 year old range to speak and write English. I would not do his job without a .38 in my pocket.

He survives on his wits, which are tuned. I talk to him about confrontations and his rap is something one would expect to hear from a Tibetan.

I wear dentures. He advised me to get a Dracula set made to grin at assailants with. They'll freeze up just a bit if they're fucked up, he claimed, give you a chance to think or draw.

I did once read a police procedural in which a hit man had Dracula teeth to freeze his targets with, so there is that.

I suspect what one projects matters a lot just from what I have seen and felt. I don't get into crowds much, but things come up. Should I consider some teeth?

-Riley

Riley, I highly recommend that aging palefaces wear Dracula fangs when in a bad area. We elderly Neanderthals have the proper complexion and every brother knows that Blackula was a knockoff of that real Transylvanian shit.”

This also goes well with not speaking to Dindu hordesmen, a practice I am dead set against.

I have successfully backed off a few packs of Dindus with a snarl and my incisors—after a millennium of ripping out throats—are quite dull looking by now.

A story to cheer the soul, from the life of the Real Dracula, Vlad The Imapler Dracula, Lord of Wallachia. While in exile, living alone with his woman in a house in Budapest, this formidable warrior—who had slaughtered an entire Turkish army which had outnumbered his—heard three bandits breaking into his house. He waited patiently, his blued sword across his knees in the darkened room as his lady remained in the loft. Then as the three bully boys broke through the door, they ran into the Sultan’s worst nightmare and were quickly separated from their torsos.

By all means, do not neglect the sword, Riley, and be certain to smile.