Tuesday, March 29

Just For Laughs

Just thought I'd share some of my randomness with you. As it happens, even when I'm writing an e-mail to my sis, I find a way to do so with flair!

The sitch: I hadn't talked to my sister in a long time.  So what better way to get her to e-mail me than with threats of an alien abduction. (note: Tori's refers to a pair of kick ass Tori Burch boots she bought. It'll make sense in a minute.) Observe.

Hello dearest,
 It has become disturbingly apparent that you've been abducted by aliens. Don't 
panic. I'm banking on them not knowing what a cell phone does and thus ignoring 
your huddled form in the corner of the spacecraft reading this message. You're 
probably just now passing a nebula, totally normal. Don't panic.
 See the being that looks a little like Mr. Potato Head? That's Hujhfuejls --the 
 J is silent-- he prefers if you say it with a touch of a british accent and as 
 though announcing the arrival of a king. Makes him feel important. At any rate, 
 he's the one with the cookies. They'll be in his right pocket. That's also 
 where he keeps his slime. 
 Do NOT eat the slime. 
 You should also know that their concept of right and left is reversed and also 
 not on a horizontal plane. So yes, you want the "hand" (those tentacle-y things 
 are hands. They'll be offended if you call it anything else) the "hand" at the 
 top of its...head, for lack of a better term. They're not offended by not 
 calling it a head, but I'd suggest doing it anyway. 
 Back to the cookies.  

 The topmost hand on his head, the one submerged in his pocket that looks like a 
 mouth. That's what you're looking for. It has the cookies. Don't forget about 
 the slime. 
 Do NOT eat the slime. 
 The cookies are perfectly safe. 
 *Sidebar* Are you wearing the Tori's? Hujhf's "girlfriend" LOVES Tori's. I think 
 her, umm, feet might be your size. Don't panic. Best to take them off and give 
 them to her. She has a fondness for human feet. The humans they're attached to, 
 not so much. Anyhow, where were we. Right. Cookies.
 Do NOT eat the cookies.
 Why aren't you panicking? You should be panicking!!!!
 I suspect you'll be gone a couple more days, but a brief transmission indicating 
 you are okay will suffice. Provided, of course, that you have not eaten the 
 cookies. Or the slime for that matter. And that you gave up the shoes and did 
 not panic.
 Tell Hujhf I said "Markensplank!" (just a fancy way of saying hello; the aliens 
 are a pretentious lot) and, if you want to make it back in one piece, do NOT 
 challenge him to Wii bowling. When he loses, he'll offer you cookies. They're 
 safe, without the slime. Do NOT eat the slime...or the cookies. 
 Now's a good time to panic. 
 Insanity's cousin, twice removed. 

The reply to this was instant and short:  
You're not well, and HELL NO the alien can't have my shoes!!!

At least I know she's all right, and the Tori's are safe. The lesson: Threats of aliens separating her from her feet won't part a woman from a pair of killer shoes.



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Quick and dirty, I’m a writer of multicultural erotica, erotic thrillers, seductive romances, and whatever else comes to mind. Tattooed vixen. Wicked humorist. Incurable humanist. Proud geek! Closet badass. (Shhh…) Lover of pit bulls, fast cars, all music, and candy. THAT’S THE NUT IN A NUTSHELL.