Stockholm Syndrome survivor.

I'm a werewolf.  But not full body transformation, just face and hands, like Wolverine.  I run with a pack of four other weres.  For reasons unknown, we decide to go (maybe break in?) to this meth dealer's mansion during the night.  We arrive at the bottom of a very steep, very icy driveway.  We start walking up as humans, but the ice is too slippery and we slide back down.  So, we bust out our claws and climb the driveway.  Little did we know that were were being watched on the security cameras the whole time by the dealer and his posse.

The scene changes and now we're inside the mansion.  We've been captured by the dealer's minions and are being held in a very lovely library full of books and dark paneling and leather furniture.  We're lined up on a the couch before a roaring fire.  One of our captors is guarding us.  He sits down next to me.  And before I knew what was happening, he kissed me.  I was surprised.  And then proceeded to make out with him. 

One of the "talents" of being a werewolf is being able to mimic other animals.  So, we're not only werewolves, we're also shape-shifters.  My captor-lover is willing to help us escape.  The plan is that each of us will mimic one of the dealer's dogs and just run out of the house.  Shifting into other animals requires a drug, however.  My captor returns to the room with two dum-dum lollipops.  They both contain the drug.  "Have a little or a lot."

One of my fellow werewolves has already shifted.  He's a small dog, like a beagle and he's chasing the dealer's pet snake around the room.  "I swear to god, if you don't leave that fucking snake alone, you're going to get bit!" I yell at him.  I attempt to pull him away from the snake, but I'm too late.  The snake bites him. My captor goes over there and pulls off the snake of my friend.  We need to get going.  He sits down next to me on the couch again.  We're sad.  We have a moment and then I shift into a dog.

The end.

Giant granny-panty animal parade.

I'm on a vacation for a wedding with the whole family. But I was running late before we left town, so Monika (my sister) decided to take it upon herself to pack for me. I was pretty upset about it because I felt that she had used it as an excuse to rummage through my drawers.

Time moves forward and we've arrived at the hotel. I get my suitcase out of the back of Monika's Suburban. I never go to my room, instead I hit the cafeteria. The menu is confusing and I end with a really expensive spinach sandwich, which I didn't really want. I take my tray into an annex filled with tables and meet my sister Gina. Three walls are floor to ceiling windows over looking desolate city to the north, a dry river bed to the east and the ocean to the south.

I decide it's time to find out what Monika has packed for me. So I head to my room, but I don't have a key. I walk down the hall (the bedroom hallway of my childhood home) and hear and see pounding coming from inside my bedroom. I knock and Josh (Elizabeth's husband) opens the door. Ethan (Elizabeth's 3-yr-old) is refusing to take a nap and railing against the door in protest. "Can I have a key to my room?" "Sure." So I get the key from Josh, retrieve my bag, and head back to the cafeteria.

I open the suitcase and rifle through, getting more and more angry. "Two pairs of khakis, granny panties, and a tank top?!?! THIS is what she packs?!?!? What am I supposed to wear to the wedding?!?" I was near tears. Gina tries to calm me down by telling me that we can go shopping. I decide to change my clothes right there in the cafeteria. I put on the giant granny panties and I'm trying to tie on a bikini top when a crowd moves into the annex from the other room. The parade has started.

Looking out of the windows you can just start to see the beginnings of Disney's Giant Animatronic Animal Parade coming down the dry river bed. There are huge robot sharks repeatedly catching big fish along with a menagerie of other robot animals. This parade happens every day. Just like at the magic kingdom.

I'm pretty sure you just voided the warranty.

So, I'm in Tokyo, Japan on a bridge watching the trains below. There are ten tracks, easy, it's a busy hub.  If you wanted, you could hook your car up and drive on the tracks.  And as I'm standing there fascinated, I watch this yellow Lamborghini speed down the tracks and crash/ramp over the other car-trains. I immediately get on the phone and start relaying this event to my car-loving friends, appalled that anyone would drive their Lamborghini directly into stopped train traffic.

I decide to go be a tourist, so I leave the walled city of Tokyo and head out into the countryside.  I find a busy marketplace and hop on the ski-lift-like (but low to the ground, so you can hop on, hop off at will) cable car system that is running down the middle of the street.  I set my phone and a one white frilly sock on the bench next to me.  I see a shop I want to go into, so I hop off the bench and walk over.  It's dark in the shop and I'm browsing among the super cute dresses. I actually comment to myself, "these are super cute!" (something I would never say with any sincerity in real life). Every time I pull one out to look at, someone edges me out and starts looking at the same dress.  This happens three or four times and I realize that one of these rude people is Vicky, my front desk receptionist.  I'm relieved to find someone I know, but irritated that she's trying on the purple dress I liked.  On my way to the dressing room, I realize that I don't have my phone.  All I have is a little money in my pocket.  (Notably, I'm wearing my work scrubs with big pockets on the front of my shirt.) So, I quickly start heading back to the ski-lift thingy hoping it will still be on the bench with the sock.  As I leave the shop, I'm approached by a woman and a dark haired girl who ask me "do you speak English?" "Yes." "How many addresses do you need?"  "None."  "Yes you do.  How many addresses do you need?" "I don't need any addresses!"  I start walking faster to get away from them.

Then I wake up.  A little panicky about the location of my phone.

Oh, that's lovely.

My sister Gina had a baby girl.  She named her "Crystal."  By the time she arrived home with her new baby, she had changed her mind.  She renamed her baby "Sparkle."  Because that's. more. classier.

what are we feeding them?!?

I had volunteered for some sort of animal protection/rescue group.  Today we are in the desert leaving out white 1x2 in nuggets for the snakes to eat.  But first, we must make the nuggets.  

Before me is a large pile (taller than me) of a white, fluffy, sandy substance.  I learn that this substance is actually snake feces.  We are going to shovel it into a machine where it will be pressed into nuggets.  "We're feeding them their own poo?!?"  I think to myself. Anyway, I begin to shovel, when my nephew Paul tells me there is an easier way.   He dives headfirst into the pile until I can only see his shoes.  Then he rolls out, his body like the center of snowball, until he is covered in a 12 inches of thick, fluffy, snake poo.   Paul then peels the poo blanket off of him and comes back to do it again.

I take off my cardigan (to dive in) and notice that the guy standing next to me is wearing a mohair jacket exactly like the one I had in high school.  We begin talking about the coincidence of him finding it at Goodwill. I see that it even had creases at the cuffs where I had rolled the sleeves. "That HAS to be my old jacket!"  I'm so surprised to see it again.  

New and Improved Instant Messaging

My psycho, serial killer, horror movie villain father has been dead for a while. Once a year, from dawn to dusk, he is able to contact me from beyond by scratching messages in my skin. I have to do his bidding, or there will be dire, deadly consequences.

Today is that day.  I have received a message and I head out with my sister to fulfill his wishes.  I arrive at a businessman's grand house.  It seems his apple trees did not bloom, and I have been instructed to switch out the apples to better his business.  I do this and scratch a message back to Dad: "what next?"  He replies: "YOU DON'T QUESTION ME."

My sister, a friend and I head into a biker bar to wait for more instructions.  While in there, we reminisce over photos of us leaping naked off the bar roof last summer.

The End.

tell me again why we can't just fly over the bridge?

I'm in northern California, driving through some very picturesque mountainous forest in a convertible with a friend.  We are heading toward a bridge, but the car isn't moving as fast as I'd like, so I stand up with my head above the windshield, hoping this somehow gives us more speed.

Perspective changes and I'm now in Jeff's helicopter.  We fly halfway over the bridge and then turn back.  Jeff is heading toward the helipad at the base of the bridge, but we were too fast and missed it.  Second attempt, but now I'm in a parachute. I land on the helipad as if I was sliding down a slide and Jeff is there to catch my feet at the end.