“So how did Damon and Stefan get to be vampires – were they born that way?” he inquired gamely, steering the car through college town traffic on a bright, October Saturday.
“Well, in the book and the show, you know, they’re different in a lot of ways, but in the book and the show they only talk about ‘made’ vampires. In the book they became vampires because of Katherine. If a vampire drinks your blood and nothing else happens, you just die – like that girl Vicky – but if they drink your blood and then you drink some of theirs, you become a vampire, and live forever. You have to go through a lot of changes, but eventually you’re a vampire.”
“They must be great in bed after a few hundred years as guys in their twenties,” he mused.
For anyone who grew up near Circleville, Ohio, the possibilities of
pumpkin are a measure of one's maturity, one's level of sophistication,
the depth of one's world view. There, in a town that would otherwise be
unknown, is the Circleville Pumpkin Show -- four days of unabashed
Americana that, since 1903, have featured seven parades each year and a
range of pumpkin contests to rival the Olympics. The medium is accorded
such respect that the farmer who produces the largest pumpkin is
considered agriculture's own Einstein. The premier pumpkin carver is
accorded an awe worthy of Michelangelo.
Candy corn—you either love or hate the candy. I used to despise candy corn as a kid. I'd always be disappointed If ever anyone gave me candy corn when I went trick or treating. What, no chocolate?
