A Werewolf Blog in Brooklyn

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December 13, 2010
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Welcome to Werewolf world. Don’t fuck with me.

Zine 5 is coming!

Posted in Whatever, Zines
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Watch out for boys named Jacob

December 11, 2010
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So apparently, werewolves are cool again. Or you know, still. Because parents are naming their babies after werewolves. No, I’m not kidding.

Apparently someone thought it worthy enough to write a brief article on this trend. So how do you know if a kid is named after a werewolf?

Well the give away is in the popularity of the name and apparently, wether it’s associated with..wait for it…wait…you know I’m going to say it…..Twilight!!

Yep talk about taking a great big leap in authenticity and sense. Since Jacob is a werewolf in the twilight movie, and his name is one of the most popular in the 100 popular male babies names, it must be true. I mean it’s not like the name Jacob has ever been popular before Twilight came along right?

Oh wait.

in 2007 Jacob made it to No #17 in the popular boys names list
in 2006 Jacob made it to No #21
in 2004 Jacob made it to No #14
in 2002 Jacob made it to No #15
in 2001 Jacob made it to No #11
in 1999 Jacob made it to No #12

Are we seeing a pattern here?
Jacob was actually more popular BEFORE twilight!

Do the people that wrote that inane bit of dribble, realise the name Jacob has been around since the biblical era and been popular way before Twilight ever decided to surface in Stephanie Myer’s imagination? Remember people, Twilight came out in 2005.

And by the way, Jacob is just a name. It’s not a “Werewolf” name as such. It doesnt mean werewolf. It’s a biblical name that means “held by the heel”.

And if a kid is named Jacob, doesn’t mean he’s either A) going to turn into a werewolf or B) like the Twilight movie or C) like girls coming up to him and comparing him to Jacob from Twilight.

I already feel sorry for the Jacobs of the world having to have been associated with that crappy article to begin with.

Whirl Wind

September 18, 2010
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Tornadoes or Microbursts of storm weather, and Werewolves do not mix.

There have been eight tornadoes to hit New York City since the 1950s. And this one isn’t the first one I’ve been around to see either. But it makes me wiley. Edgy. Weather like that. Sets off the senses.

Perhaps it’s because we werewolves, and I say we, because I know I’m not the only one, we kind of get suspicious of mother nature when this goes down, so unexpectedly, we hold a common feeling. Around times like these.

That we’re either being reminded that we’re not as all together powerful and unstoppable as can be. That even if you’re a werewolf, a step up the evolutionary scale of things, that there are some things, it just doesn’t matter for. Like mother nature herself.

Being a werewolf and being caught in a tornado’s way, same as being a non and being caught in a tornado’s way. Not a hell of a lot you can do about it. Except maybe, video it and put it on you tube.

I guess, it’s a reminder, an equalizer that for all we are, and as much as nons want to glamorize the benefits of a werewolf lifestlye and being, there are some things we aren’t also.

We do not control the weather. No. A fish named pudge in Hawaii does that.

And mother nature herself, is unpredictable and unexpected and a force of life that can not be tamed. She is powerful and really, that makes the rest of us, nons and werewolves alike, seem diminished in her capacity to do damage of the unexpected on a large scale.

She’s the equalizer and the unity all in one. Where as I am a werewolf, a being of two halves. Does being a werewolf equalize my human side? Maybe that’s what’s been ticking around in my head as I write this.

Does it overshadow the other parts of me and push them aside like the tornado, the whirl of emotions that pulse through me in human form (as a werewolf) versus that which I more physically feel when in tribal form as a werewolf.

I dunno. Just random thoughts.


August 9, 2010
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“You’re lucky.” My sister tells me, sighing as she lays down, an ice pack across her forehead.

“How so?” I ask curiously, already knowing what she’s going to say, but wanting to hear it all the same.

“You’re not an Alpha. You don’t have to put up with the same bullshit I do.” Bodil replies back at me, pressing the icepack to her forehead.  She’s already shape shifted her injuries and aches and pains from fighting away.  But she didn’t hold wolf form for long. “And you don’t get the side effects of a quick shape shift.  Trust me, that makes you very lucky.” Bodil moans.

Because life moves on and requires her to be in her human form to get other pack business done, in an all too timely manner.  Fast shape shifting, is an Alpha specialty.  They can bring on they’re own shape shift and that of other wolves, too, rather fast if needed. And they can essentially, shut it down just as fast.  But there are side affects from fast shape shifting, and not holding werewolf form long enough. They vary in degrees of severity, but it’s one of the drawbacks.  Migraines, are a special side affect my sister often experiences, from one of these quick shape shifts.


“You’re lucky.” My brother Markus says to me with a half smile. As I shovel the last piece of bacon off the plate and into my mouth.  “That phone call distracted me, otherwise I’d have grabbed the bacon.”

“You snooze, you lose.” I reply back at him. He arches an eyebrow up at me in response. “Are you like the only werewolf I know who doesn’t know how to do two things at once?” His eyes go wide at me now and he laughs. 

“Are you like the only werewolf I know, who doesn’t put all they’re attention and focus on the task at hand when required, instead of spreading themselves thin doing too much of everything?” Markus fires back at me. 

My mouth clamps shut.  Markus is a beta wolf like me. He’s a good solider wolf. He does what’s required of him, for the pack, for others, for himself. I always thought I was the golden child in our family, but now his statement makes me think I’ve been seeing myself in too eager a bright light.  He makes me sound like the loose cannon in our family.  We’re all quite different in personality and temperament and werewolf abilities and duties. But surely not?


“You’re lucky.” Sonny the Seattle Alki sighs down the phone line at me. “You’ve got Paris, you’ve got a great packmate in him.”

“Thanks, I think.  I am aware of how great a guy he is.”

“Not just the guy, the wolf too.” Sonny goes on.  “He’s the whole package, a werewolf could ever want in a packmate.”  I think about arguing the point, it depends what you want in a packmate back at Sonny, but decide not to.  He is everything I want in a packmate.  He’s beautiful, strong, dependable, fiercely loyal. He makes me feel desired, loved and wanted. He helps me shape shift, he lets me pick my battles and figures out ways to let me fight them, without insulting my intelligence by giving him all the control over them.


“You’re lucky.” Gabby, the female Alpha from the Manhattan Maen pack mutters at me, her  eyes glancing across at me, before darting away again. “That I don’t smash your face in.” She says fast enough for me to hear as she walks past me, without breaking stride.  I have no idea why she’s being so hostile towards me now. We’ve been good lately, at least for the last four days.  Maybe’s because the last time we had a run in, I kind of broke her nose and I didn’t get told off for it.  I’ve deliberately avoided being around her.  Maybe it’s a territorial thing.  Me being from another pack, and being involved with the Alpha from her pack, really seems to irk her.  Then again, it could be any number of reasons with Gabby as to why she dislikes me so.  She wouldn’t be the first female werewolf I’ve come across who didn’t like me.  Female wolves can be the ultimate bitches, trust me.


“You’re lucky.” Bohm a beta wolf from the Manhattan Maen says to me with a warm smile. “That I was there for you.” I shake his hand and nod my head. It’s my first meeting with the werewolf male, I beat the crap out of, after my last run in with Gabby. Trust me when I say, circumstances called for it.  Being a werewolf ain’t for the faint hearted, you will be tested, over and over again.  I still can’t bring myself to feel good about beating him up, even though he and Paris assure me, all is well and good.

“Won’t happen again.” I reply. Bohm shrugs his shoulders and keeps smiling.

“No problems if it does, bit of a heads up would be good, but no probs.” He says back at me.  Just like that, a good werewolf falls into line, does what he’s told, sucks it up and comes back for more.  Maybe it’s just a male werewolf thing, I tend to think they embrace the violence that surrounds our lives, more than females. Well, me at least. 


“You’re lucky, I wasn’t settled yet.” Addison mock growls at me, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he raises up off his seat and heads back past the pool, towards the bar, to refill the sangria jug for me.  I try not to look too pleased with myself, behind my wrap sunglasses.  After all, a beta werewolf ordering an Alpha werewolf around, unheard of!  Well, not unheard of, just unreal.  There is a structure in a wolf pack, and that includes hierarchy and all werewolves adhere to it. It’s how the pack works.  Beta wolves are not exactly considered lesser wolves than Alphas, since we tend to make up the majority of most packs.  But it’s like having the rich and the middle class levels of society in a pack, kind of, if you get my meaning.  Alpha’s are above us, and do not have to do, as we Beta wolves do.  Generally speaking, because being an Alpha werewolf entails more than the average werewolf.  So they’re under a whole other set of expectations, rules and circumstances as well as the normal things that apply to Beta wolves. But we Beta wolves, have to do as our Alpha would tell us to do.  It’s how it works.  Besides, I wasn’t ordering Addison around, I was whining and pleading cause I didn’t want to get out of the pool and Addison was closer to the bar than me.


“I’m lucky.” I look up at Paris. “That you are never not up for this.” I’m being cheeky I know, but it’s true. The werewolf before me, only ever helps me and loves me and wants me and appreciates me, in all forms that I come in. Woman, human, werewolf, beta wolf, stupid girl, party girl, bad fighter, Breukelen pack wolf.  I wrap my legs around his hips, pulling myself upwards with him. He kisses me hard and his face hovers close to mine. So All I can see is him.


“I’m lucky.” Paris sighs, blue eyes looking down at me. “That you’re all mine.”

No need to hold back

July 22, 2010
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Jack and Diane is a John Mellancamp song and it is also, an upcoming movie that heyyouguys.co.uk says

“Jack and Diane tells the story of two teenage girls who meet in New York City and spend the night kissing ferociously.”

I gather it’s a rather sexual movie in nature then, given this description.  

Apparently “Diane must struggle to keep their love alive while hiding the secret that her newly awakened sexual desire is giving her werewolf-like visions.”

And singer Kylie Minogue is going to get it one with at least one of the girls in the film.  Not bad going. 

Only I’m not sure, I get what “Werewolf-like visions” are.

Is this a desperate reach to link sexuality and werewolves?

Or some film maker trying to “re boot” the notion of werewolves to the film going public? 

Trying to out-twilight – twilight perhaps? Hmm.

Got news for you. 

Twilight works because it’s about epic romance. A sweeping scale of ideal epic fantasy. That’s it.  I’d want to hope that Jack and Diane if they’re going to do some sort of pseudo association with werewolves, they would not go down the twilight path of glitter.  I’d want to hope they attempt to give us werewolves a good name.

Well, they are setting the film, in New York, apparently. So there is good source material there, if they know where and how to go looking for it.  If they want the actors to go all method and get amongst the real werewolves of New York.  Or if they could get anyone to talk about our culture. We could act like consultants to them, I guess. 

Still, I’m not sure what “werewolf like visions” means.  I mean, if you want to go littoral on this term.  Are they saying that when the girl is turned on, her mind ticks over to that of a more baser animal and she see’s people through animal eyes, and gets turned on in a violent manner?

That’s not what happens to me.  No, there is definitely only a feeling of potential violence when there’s blood and running and screaming.  Then the animal werewolf in me kind of wants to go hunting.  But most of the time my werewolf is placid by comparison. 

There’s this thing about shape shifting, that we all work very hard to obtain and keep when we’re taught as werewolves grow up.   The mindset of the human you, can affect the mindset of the werewolf you.  So if you’re aggravated and traumatized and upset when you shape shift, then you’re wolf is likely to keep those sensations when your body physically changes. And you come to, in tribal form, like you’re on a rage spree. That’s when stuff is not good.

It’s also partially why we shape shift with partners, or in groups.  If your werewolf comes to in a highly hyper-active state of anger, then there will be other werewolves there to contain the situation of your overly emotional state. Basically, they’ll pull you into line and put you in your place.

Werewolves, we look out for each other.  

Werewolves and lesbians is there a difference? Well I’d want to hope whatever the difference was, it was a positive one, since Jack and Dianne is associating one of the lesbian characters of this movie with “werewolf like visions”.  That term disturbs me. Makes me think the wrong thing. That maybe it’s some sort of euphemism for a way of saying same sex /werewolf sexuality is not normal. Which I’d hate to think was the message being sent out.

I’m assuming that the by saying “werewolf like visions”, that this term more than likely refers to some sort of carnal lust and control issue, when the horny teenager is at her wits end and turned on completely.  Guess they are going down the twilight path, horny, teenager, holding back , werewolf visions…blah blah blah…yawn.

Anyway, I have to get ready for my night out, with my Alpha wolf in the clubs. No need to hold back. Thankfully, I’m not a teenager.

After dusk

May 29, 2010
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The thing about being a werewolf in today’s modern age, is balance.
Knowing how to balance all the aspects of who you are with what you are.

I mean, the werewolf has needs that you, the human you, has to accommodate in some usually, alternative way.

It’s a weird thing, knowing your baser nature is really, literally and figuratively, animalistic and that that’s ingrained, instinctual and unrelenting. There will always be a need to be the werewolf, to shape shift to your tribal form, and to an extent, do things that the werewolf wants to do.

After recent events, Paris thought it a good idea that we get some perspective. Get some balance and realign ourselves with who we are as well as each other. In other words, we were getting rid of the bad feelings, negativity and stress. We were going to indulge in being werewolves, the way werewolves should be. The way they used to be, before concrete cities took over the landscapes.

We drove out to the Appalachians for this reason.

A mountain range that stretches throughout New York and other states, into Canada, is the perfect area for a free fur romp with nature. Plenty of room for running, stretching our hind legs, for feeling free and forgetting about the rest of life for awhile.

A mini-escape from reality was needed and Paris was the one to lead the charge for us, to recharge.

We park the car and walk into the mountain range with army green packs. A subtle camouflage for us to ditch our clothes in. Even though there are more in Paris’s car, should they be needed.

The problem with shape shifting in the open, or public places like this is of course, one of the most basic things you could encounter. People. We have to be naked to shape shift.

Sure you can do it with clothes on, but don’t expect to get your clothes back in any wearable piece. They get shredded and torn and ruined completely. Besides, if you’re wearing them when you start the shape shifting process, you may find they restrict you and then you lose focus and you can get the body mechanics into all kinds of stupid trouble then. Which can be rather humiliating.

So it’s easier with nudity.

Of course, then we have to consider the whole, ‘other people’ part of the equation. As in, ‘other people’ might see you being nude. Generally speaking in one way or another, that causes problems too. So we do the sensible thing, bring a pack to hide our gear in, then stash our pack out of the way, hope it doesn’t get found by some trail hiker who then thinks some poor walker’s gone missing and…well you get the picture.

So we start off on a walking trail and when no one is around, wander off it, into undergrowth, until we’re sure we are far enough out of sight that we can no longer see the path.

Of course, there’s no point in rushing the nudity part unless of course, you are in an absolute hurry and on a deadline for some reason. But we’re not. We’re just a guy and a girl outdoors, exploring. Each other. And then shape shift and go for a run, through the ranges. Of course, the best time to do all this is after dusk has settled. The more we have the cover of darkness, the freer we can be out there, with one another. Darkness of night is a great equalizer like that.

Paris puts a finger to my lips, silencing me with it as I rest my back against a tree.

He starts with my top half and unbuttons my cardigan and quickly slides it down and off my arms. He lets the material drop carelessly to the ground. His fingers brush under the edge of my t-shirt, tantalizing the skin there with the lightest of touches. Before his hands slid up to cup my breasts through my bra. He pushes the t-shirt up and pulls it off over my head, and again, it floats away from covering me. Hiding me from him. He sighs heavily and looks down at me. With a deft flick of a finger, the front catch on my bra springs open. Then it too is gone. He moans lightly as he looks at me.

Still, he continues to just look and feel.

His hands move around to the waist band of my skirt, tickling me as they go around me to find the back zip in the material and unzip the skirt. Still I remain quiet. We were alone there in the dark, with nothing but nature surrounding us and the slow ebbing sounds of night time coming to life.

I can hear Paris’s heart beat thumping as he slides the skirt down over my hips, letting it fall where it may. His eyes linger over my underwear for a split second before he hooks a finger under them too and sends them down to join the skirt.

The softest of sighs, a moment of restrained pleasure sounds in the night air and he drops to his knees before me.

The man is focused, on me.

Then is mouth is on me and mine opens automatically to let out a light sigh at the instant pleasure I’m receiving for being so utterly complacent. His tongue strokes me and my hands fist and then reach to grip, air, clenching and unclenching, searching the tree either side of me, for a handle, a grip, something to help me keep upright and stable. Something to hold onto as Paris indulges me, in me. Something to hold to distract my mind from wanting to start making loud noises of extreme gratitude for my oncoming orgasm.

I don’t know how I stay upright, when I want to buck up off that tree, when my legs want to buckle and my stomach tightens. When my hands ended up in Paris’s hair, twisting and holding him there. When I bit my lip so hard to silence myself it starts to bleed.

When reality returns to my brain, I’m resting against Paris who is grinning like a big bad werewolf, that parent’s really should warn their daughters about. So proud of himself. Somewhere in the aftermath of my climatic haze, he’s cuddled me to him, so I don’t sink, bonelessly to the ground.

“Ready for a run now?” Paris asks me.

I frown looking at him, still fully clothed. “What about you?”

“This Manhattan Maen wolf will take his fill when he see’s his favourite Breukelen wolf.”
Ahh, so that’s the plan.
Hope we’ve still got the energy then for the run afterwards.

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