Knoxaphobia on Demon Day Galour!

SO NICE I JUST HAD TO SHOW IT TWICE! Welcome frightened little lambs to my demon day galour! My name is Knox and due to the fact that small children are frightened outta their little batman masks today, I feel great!

It's Halloween bitches! ARRRUUGGGHHHH! COME ON AND GIVE ME SOME O' THAT FEAR JUICE! I wanna hear the D.J. in my head go 'WICA WICA'! (for some reason whenever someone around me gets scared all I can hear is a D.J. scratchin' records before I feel that rush!)

My name is Knox n' I hang out with crusty ol' white men with Jedi powers, scare speedy fake blond girls and make doughnuts outta fat cops! WHAT?! I've got the best power in the world, I get like superman when you get scared and today is MY day! Today I rule the world...but only for less than 24 hours...damn.

Tell you this though...I see any red spiderman's or Jokers out n' about tonight, I ain't gonna touch em or give em that bad guy look or nothin'. I got me some mad respect for those little men who have the decency to dress proper for the free treats, you know what I'm sayin'?

HOWEVER, if I see even one little man dressed as Satan hisself...little red bastard better watch his pointy tailed behind. I'll just walk up to him and say somethin' like 'BOO BOY I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE!' and then flip over his daddy's new HUMMER with his jerk daddy in it!

AND IF I SEE ONE LITTLE GIRL DRESSED LIKE MILEY CYRUS....damn...No...all I gotta say is NO. If I had a daughter I would put that girl into a fear coma before I let her leave my house looking like rainbow brite just outta rehab!

But enough pickin' on the little people. Let me pick on all you 'adults' dressin' up n' goin' out to Halloween parties. GROW YOUR ASSES UP! I can her you all now...'Oh this is so much fun! I just love your Sylar costume! And look at her, she looks just like the cheerleader, whats her name?!'

OHHHH It burns my hide to think of all you people out there actin' like you can pretend to be anyone you wanna be for just one night and do anything you wanna do. You see, I'm gonna crash on of those adult Halloween parties and once everyone there gets all nice and good n' scared outta their Jetta drivin', Gucci wearin', Half caf skim latte drinkin', no tippin', minds I'm gonna tear that four story built in less than a month $500,000 home to the concrete foundation with them in it! I hate me some yuppies...their the easiest to scare, easier than little children. And in my book if you as a grown man or woman scare easier than a child...your life means nothin'.

Okay, okay...enough with the ranting...it's now time for...

KNOX'S HALLOWEEN SAFE TRICK OR TREATING TIPS!

I have compiled a list of...screw it...I'll just read em' off...

1.Don't ring the door bell or knock on the door, KICK THE DAMN THING. you'll get a much faster response time.

2. Don't say 'Trick or treat' in that annoying sing song voice...say what I would say, 'YOU KNOW YOU GONNA GIVE ME THAT CANDY!'

3. speaking of candy, DON'T JUST SETTLE FOR ONE DAMN PIECE! TAKE THE WHOLE BOWL!

4. Bring an extra pillow case or pumpkin pale. (see tip three)

5. If you did bring a flashlight use the batteries to throw at kids with lit flashlights, when they fall take their candy and run. They won't see you cause you'll be in the dark!

6. Sell all your extra candy to those in need. (see tip five)

7. Wear all black and hiss at people as they walk by you.

8. Stay the hell away from me and my candy!

That's all of my tips for now, it's been fun talkin' at ya.

HAVE A SAFE AND HAPPY HALLOWEEN!
Adios-Knox.

Agent Audrey Hanson, FBI: 7 things

Here we are in the middle of the fall and I bet everyone has the same thought on your minds: Where is Agent Audrey Hanson, FBI? How come I’m not around? How could we possibly be so far into the season (you know, autumn) and not see Agent Audrey Hanson, FBI anywhere?

Well, I have to admit that I’ve been busy. Being an agent in the FBI is not just some cushy 9 to 5 job at some biotech company or congressman’s office. I’ve been busy investigating, shadowing, surveillancing, staking out, watching, going undercover, wire tapping, shooting, combat rolling, and compiling and examining the evidence and I’ve made a few moves within the FBI.

Sure, I’m not exactly on the Sicko Psycho Killer Task Force anymore but the door’s always open for me to return. At least that’s what the Chief told me as he slammed it. So I’ve been working another case and I’ve made a few busts. A few… small… busts. This thing hasn’t broken open yet and I’m not exactly at liberty to discuss the details of the investigation but believe me, there are going to be some individuals who are rebroadcasting major league baseball without expressed written consent who are going to be sorry indeed.

Before that I was working an angle to bust some black marketers. I almost nailed a bunch of them with a semi truck full of cigarettes in Detroit when some stupid local cop gets himself all tangled up in it. There was a high speed chase with him hanging out the back like it was some kind of Hollywood comedy. Finally, the semi crashed into a bunch of Chevy Novas and Dodge Aspens and we make the bust. I hope that local gets suspended for his crazy actions.

I hate local cops.

So anyway, some old bag tagged me with this 7 things meme. Yeah I know, that was quite a while ago, like I said I’ve been undercover. Deep, deep, deep undercover, but I’ll give this thing the old Langley try.

1. Not only am I a crack shot with the 9mm automatic, .38 caliber service revolver, M-16 automatic rifle, and MP5, but I won best low crawler of class back in the academy.


2. Of course all I ever wanted to be was a FBI agent, but I have also considered a career in pantsuit modeling. They typically don’t let you carry a piece though.


3. I hate local cops. They’re always stupid and like “Duh, what’s going on?” whenever a situation goes down. One time I had to go undercover with a local and he was a hot mess. Bullets were falling out of his gun belt, his shoelaces were untied, and his uniform shirt was always pulled out of his pants and there was jelly donut or something all over his handcuffs. What’s up with that? So we’re undercover and I had to pretend that I liked him and I kissed him and it was like kissing a cow or something. Yuck.


4. You might say I’m unlucky in love. I once dated a guy who thought he was Jesus Christ. Seriously. He wanted to join a traveling show and heal all the sick or something. After a couple days, I couldn’t stand it anymore. Forget turning it into wine, he needed to get some water for a shower.


5. I wouldn’t say that I like girls, but I’ve experimented a little in my day.


6. Everyone always asks me if I’m a blond or a brunette. The answer is yes.


7. My favorite treat of all? Yeah, you guessed it, a nice big lollipop.

Hanson out.

Better Men Than My Husband!!

Let me start by saying that I DO NOT drown babies in the bathtub. Vile. What kind of woman do you take me for? I would never do that! I would hire someone to do that for me.

Arthur, you are too tacky for words! The epitome of bad taste, and even worse parenting! You think you're the big man on campus, telling lies to our sons; hanging Gabriel from the ceiling for all the world to see the bottoms of his crappy shoes, grounding Peter while you sit there with your John Grisham book, trying to pretend you're a mans man! See me in hell! I know what you're really like! You wear Stetson, tighty whiteys that aren't entirely white (you know what I'm talking about), you pick your nose, and you typically drink your scotch from a plastic bottle in a paper bag, not a glass.

Savage!

I could have done so much BETTER! You were a mercy marriage. But, there's nothing like having a child accidentally on purpose to trap a man. Serves me right, in that regard. You reap what you sew, I suppose. None the less, I had other offers. I could have been the blushing bride to one of these fine beaus...



Carl Brutananadilewski


Now here's a Company Man at his finest!! Rawr! Carl Brutananadilewski; because sometimes woman just needs to go slumming. Carl has a power indeed; his incredible savage, wild, and animalistic sex appeal!



Now THAT'S romance at it's finest, is it not?

I apologize in advance to my three sons, but even their mother needs a spicy, hot piece every now and then. After all, if a booty call is good enough for my eldest son, Nathan, you can bet your sweet, baby drowning a$$ that its good enough for me as well.

"Angela Brutananadilewski." Has a nice ring to it, no?

Billy Dee Williams


As much as I hate to admit it, my dirty little secret is that also I enjoy a good brew out of a paper bag from time to time. Whom else better to indulge in such vices than Mr. Smooth himself, Billy Dee Williams. Colt 45 aside, which lady of my generation DIDN'T have a Lando Calrissian fetish?



The force be with you, Billy Dee! I could have been your Dark Side on the side, but alas, I chose that a$$ hole instead. Where were my clairvoyant powers when I needed them? Oh, that's right, they were being drown in a bottle of Colt 45, and then tossed back up in a dark alley behind an L.A nightclub.


Hugh Hefner


What does that Holly Madison know? Nothing! She's young, dumb, and needs the money!

<-- That's right Dear, do what you have to do.

She easily disposable.

I'm older, wiser, and clearly I have the money, but can be bought none the less. So can my chest, as you can see. I think they look "real and spectacular!" I don't think I'm too old to sit at their lunch table. Bridget Marquardt is 400 years old, like Adam Monroe, and she's still drowning in all things pink and bunny! Again, there's nothing that a little plastic, or Adam's blood, that will keep you preserved like a large breasted corpse for years to come.

As you can see, beggars can't be choosers, but I certainly had the pick of the litter. But I need to quit feeling sorry for myself. At least I know for that in my next life, to not deny myself all of the options, and take the first, pinky ring wearing, toupee sporting, coma inducing barbarian that comes my way.

Shame, shame, shame on me.

Pray for my wretched soul, still,
Mrs. Angela Petrelli



**Thank you, thank you again to Ryslynn; The best Company Employee a bitter old hag could ask for. She can rest assured that'll she'll never be used to feed anyone, as her super power is clearly making pics.

Life as a bowl of Rice Krispies...

It's kinda difficult to type right now because everytime I get even the teensy tiniest irritated then - lkhfvhjkfhgjhfdkhgvjf
dhvjhfdvgsjhfjhgfdjgs.

UGH. Great. That's the third computer I've been through today. Calm thoughts Elle, ooooh! Like the Macy's three day sale and free latte day at Urth Cafe!

So. Woe is me. Ever since my run in with Creepy Pants McGee, Sylar. I'm... short circuiting and no, I don't mean like the Steve Guttenburg movie about the robot, but...Ohemgee that movie is so good, right? I mean, it's...yeah, nevermind. So. Yeah, short circuiting...since you know I'm all unemployed and whatevs I decided to take a trek to visit my dear, sweet, BFF (That was soooo sarcasm)...The Cheerleader from HELL, Claire. She was oh so happy to see me (that was also sarcasm). Dorothy and I were off to see the Wizard! Wait, what does that make me? I'm no ToTo!

Ugh, great, now because I got moody the computer won't stop telling me it's going to go into hibernation mode because I fried the battery.

ANYWAYS. I guess I'll just try and be all, positive as I talk about...Claire. SO, My BEST FRIEND an I hopped a flight to go find these Pinehearst peeps so that I can stop frying everything I touch. I don't have a job so it isn't exactly easy to replace iPods and things like that right now. I figure we can go to Pinehearst, they can fix me and then I can go try my hand at being a hand model or something! I was thinking maybe America's Next Top Hand Models, deffo awesome!

So, Claire and I shared a moment and held hands on the plane (I think she has some weird girlcrush on me) because I nearly took down the whole plane because my powers went all snap, crackle, pop.

Dorothy and I finally trek to Oz and guess who falls out of the sky? No, not a house but Peter freakin' Petrelli. Claire is all over that in two point five and I'm a little creeped out by their incest is best put your uncle to the test moment. So much for 'best friends' she totally hijacked my crush! Then again I don't know if I really wanna deal with a family that's all, oh, we're just very close. Cha-right!

Peter's trying to win Claire over with his best dramatic performance all gaspy and ouchified talking about how he doesn't have his powers and what not and hello! LIGHTBULB! They can fix me! They can fix me and my hand model dreams can become a reality!

I felt like I was in that play Wicked (my daddy totally dug it) and Claire was all, oh I'm the good witch I'm gonna be all good and I'm the "bad" witch who totally isn't bad just misunderstood. Then the good witch is all loved and praised and gets the guy at first and then the 'bad' witch has to run off and do her own thing....Yep, Claire and I are like Glinda the 'good' witch and Elphaba the 'bad' witch.... and minus the song and dance we parted ways.


Claire ran off with my man and now I'm sitting here in the lobby, waiting for them to call my number.

ishfiudsvhgjkgkjebfjbdgjdbfgjdabjgfbfdjgbfdjbvjkadkjvgbfdjgbdgs GREAT. Now I keep getting a blue screen of doom! I'll have to cut this for now, I can't afford to reimburse these people for computers when my Daddy isn't around to turn everything into gold for me!

The bliss and woes of cocoonery

What is to become of me? This has been a time for how you might say, the books. The Great Wise Abby did write me back. She said something about silly college students and how she hopes God has mercy on my soul. What a lovely woman! Though mercy is too much for someone such as me to hope for.

As kind as her letter was, it gave me no advice. So I decided to help Momo with his loft. It has been fallen into a sea of decay every since he put my goo into his blood system. So I did what my mother and her mother before her has done all her life...

As I was cleaning the loft/lab I did find something interesting. It may explain why Momo has been acting so strangely. It was behind some old prophetic paintings. I thought Momo only had one injection? Where did it come from?

Well, let me tell you, his laboratory was a mess. cobwebs everywhere! I began to sweep them aside, but what did I find? A face! Dios Mio! I pulled some of the webbing aside and Dios Mio again! Not a face, but a body!

"Maya? I'm home!" I heard Mohinder shout. I quickly hid under the table. Momo doesn't like it when I touch his things... Unless he tells me to. I thought he might web me too.

Maya?" He called, entering the lab. I grasped my knees and shook.

"Maya!" He shouted. He had found the uncovered body. "Maya! You've got some 'splaining to do!"

"GWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!"

And as usual... the plague exploded from my sockets. I heard Mohinder stumbling around the room telling me to stop crying. The web people began screaming too. "I'M A VERY BAD GIRL! I'M SOOOORRRRRY! AHAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNGH!"

He kicked over the table and glowered at me. I lowered my head and stopped crying, as a scolded dog tucks his tail over his pene.

"Look what you did, Maya! Bad! Very bad!"

I sniffled and looked anywhere but his face. And I saw the web people still writhing in their cocoons. Eh? Que Diablos? As far as I know, the pain stops when I stop crying. But then I realized... Momo and I were better suited for each other than I thought... "You are a monster, like me!" I cried.

Momo didn't like that. He bit me, which I enjoyed, and webbed me. I was pleased at first, since I can do little harm here. But alas! I have nothing to do but sleep. I am still a creature of sin, with much atonement to do!

Oh! More people have come! Perhaps if I ask nicely they will put some broken glass up my nose for me!

It just might be True Love

I’m the type of girl who mixes business with pleasure but even I have a line that won’t be crossed. There’s no reason I can’t have some fun even if the crusty old dude keeps following me around wherever I go. His name is Linderman. But personally I just think he’s a dirty old man with some serious issues. He’s got that kinky look about him. Have I told you that I saw him wearing a great big diaper one time with a pink bow in his hair? He was dancing and singing I’m a little teapot.

Right, so now that we’ve both had the visual I think we could safely understand my reasons for wanting to run far away from Pinehearst. Because this sort of evil is uncalled for.

Ahh and now I see him, Matt Parkman, telepath extraordinaire. Hmm I thought he’d look cooler, but he kind of reminds me of an overweight Keanu Reeves. That is if you squint really hard and turn your head to the side. I’m not exactly a big Keanu fan, I mean the Matrix – especially the second one that had the unnecessary sex scene between the Neo and Trinity. You know I’ve seen more chemistry between an artichoke and a serving of mayonnaise. The visualization was lackluster at best.

Back to the point.

Showtime.

I ask him if we could talk, and lead him towards a table.

“These People know things, such as who was really on the Grassy Knoll, or why you’ve been banned from Weight Watchers. They know how you struggled not to let anybody know you had a poster of Sydney Bristow over your bed. But that wasn’t enough for you.” I give my pitch, which is kind of hard because I can still see Linderman dancing around, except he’s added some new moves. I think he’s trying to do the Cabbage Patch.

“No, it wasn’t,” Matt said.

“They know how you’ve been waiting your whole life to open a Krispy Kreme franchise,” I tell him again.

“We’re soul mates, I came here looking for you and what did I find? You were looking for me. That’s got to mean something right?” Matt said.

“Look at you and then look at me, hello? Do we look compatible? You’d crush me like a pancake.” Honestly, I’m not laughing at Parkman trying to convince me were soul mates, I swear! If only Linderman would get up and leave or something. He’s very distracting.

I swear I’m going to need therapy after this.

So I’ve told Parkman that hey I’m not into your soul mate mumbo jumbo and you’re just another stalker. I squint again, but no he’s still an overweight Keanu Reeve look-a-like.

Gotta jet

But something pulls me back. No it wasn’t that we had a baby girl named Daniela although that was kind of strange.

It was his turtle.

The guy won me over with a turtle.

I just had to find out more about him such as how many credit cards he has and the number of zero’s in his bank account.

It just might be true love, me, him and the turtle.

So now I'm dead

Well, my disciples. It has finally happened. Yes, I am dead. I didn't really want to go. I used to pretend to be sad and stoic, but really, I loved being immortal. The booze. The women. Now there's monkey poop being thrown at me. But let me start over from the beginning...



In the beginning, I was born and raised in an impoverished village in some muddy hill place. At the tender age of 7, my mother sold me to the circus for whiskey. She said I looked funny. Her alcohol problem always impaired her vision.

Me at age 7



When I was 17, I left to work on a Dutch trading ship. I thought I would get to see the world, meet new people, maybe make some long-lasting relationships. Back then I had feelings. How naive I was. How very, very, naive.

By the age of 24, I was well-versed in the native tongue of Japan. This was a very useful skill, as a trader. I was always very quick in both mind and body, one of the many wonderful things about me that are now lost forever. In any case, my well-versity was of great interest to some merchants who wanted to do some business in the isolated country.

But on my 2nd trip to the island nation, I skipped out on the translating gig and made my way as a rogue (a devilish one) and a bandit (a charming one, of course)--until, that is, I discovered there were better ways to make a dime. In the figurative sense, of course, they didn't have dimes in feudal Japan.



I moonlighted as great hero Takezo Kensei, of course leaving all the bloodshed to someone else and all the credit to me. It was a good life...that is, until Hiro Nakamura entered the picture and mucked things up. Hiro, if you're out there, I still blame you for everything, you know. At least it was thanks to him I discovered my ability.

A man reborn in bitterness and spite, with murder in his undying heart, I did the only thing I could...I sought out my mother. She was my one last tie to the human race. Unfortunately, the witch had found me first, taken all my possessions, and fled to unknown whereabouts. I cursed her and moved on.

From there, I wandered from place to place according to whim. Imagine my placid delight when I found other people like me. People I could use for my vision of a new world. Alas, this didn't work out. You know the story. They turned on me, like they always do. Called a villain, a nuisance, a megalomaniac (where ever did they get that notion?) I was thrown away like a piece of trash you just can't seem to get rid of.



And then I finally escape, thinking I had finally exacted my revenge. How disappointed to find that it was not, in fact, myself who was the mastermind behind it all, but Arthur Petrelli.



Moments before my doom, I realized with a numb horror what was about to happen to me.

"No!" I screamed in an uncannily high pitch. "I can't die! I'm too pretty! I can be of use to you! I'll do anything!"

I went for the door, but I was held back and brought to the table, screaming my head off the whole way.

"I'll give you money! I'll give you contacts! I'll kill your wife! I'll kill anyone you want!"

I held onto the leg of my oppressor as I was dragged to Arthur's bed, kicking and shouting.

"I'll house your mistresses! I'll bootleg videos! I'll give you my body! You can do whatever you want with it!"

Except, of course, what he was about to do. I became desperate.

"I'll make you a custard pie! I'll style your hair! I'll wash your feet! I'll shine your shoes!"

But it was too late.



He grabbed me by the arm and all my youth and vitality started to be sapped away from me. I shuddered as my worst nightmare came true--I was becoming old.

After I collapsed into a pile of sparkly dust, I woke up to find myself in front of the pearly gates. Oh well, I thought, at least I went out in a dignified manner. I let myself in, and found myself inundated with clouds, harp music, and monkey angels. I've been flying around for the past half hour, getting poo chucked at me, but I think it's about time to choke a monkey.

...

There. I'm back. I just strangled one, but it seems to me, judging by the flames now leaping up around me, that the big guy wasn't very pleased. I'll show him, though, you just wait.

So anyway, horned demons flying about, annoying unearthly screams, I guess this must be Hell. First thing I'm going to do is find my mother and throw her into a pit. Next, I'm going to find a way to break out of here. I at least have to haunt Arthur Petrelli to his dying day. Fool thinks he can just take my youthful powers away and be done with it. I'm way better looking than him.

That's all for now, and probably for a while. Do you know how hard it is to get internet access around here? So I'm going to sign off, and get to work. Angela, I hope you get that horrible husband of yours in the end. Peter, stop cutting yourself. Nathan, I entrust the beautiful women of the world to your wooing. It's up to you now. Tracy, I don't know you very well, but you're smoking. You'll get over Nathan's ways. Mohinder, get a vet. Maya, may you be tormented with ash and carrion. Horn Rimmed Glasses Man, I always liked your shoot first policy.

I don't have time for the rest of you, but wish me luck, or I just might put a word in for you to the horned guy. Signing off from the depths of hell, the world's one true God...



Me (Adam Monroe)

Fear Me, Ugly People

For no longer am I a mere mild-mannered-but-still-divinely-gorgeous hottie.

I am now Tracy Strauss, superhero hottie, and you can kiss my divinely-gorgeous butt.


In case you're wondering, the fly-headed person that I stand triumphantly over is a representation of Dr. Mohinder "Turning Into That Guy From The Fly" Suresh, who was both more useless and more hideous than I'd expected. Not only did he have gross scale/carapace-like growths on his back (along with people webbed up in his lab like something from Animal Planet), but he drugged both me and my almost-as-hot-as-me boss and fellow mutant Senator Nathan Petrelli and stuck us on very unflatteringly gray lab tables.

I suspect he wanted to eat us. Or worse, put us on Ambush Makeover.


Eurgh. Now that is evil.

Anyway, I was lying there on the medical table, and the doctor starts rambling to himself, as all good mad scientists do, about world domination and ultimate power and all that jazz. Well, at least that's what I assume he was saying... it might also have been the lyrics to "I Feel Pretty," with every fourth word replaced by "extraordinary abilities." I'm not really sure.

Then I realized - that was all the ugly fly-doctor really wanted. He wanted to feel pretty again. My suspicions were confirmed when I saw the rainbow-colored My Little Pony scarf in the corner. Obviously, it had been the doctor's once, but now refused to adorn his ugly insectile neck, and that had driven him to evil.

My keen political mind began to churn, drawing upon all my experiences with Governor Malden. I remembered the lessons I had learned while enduring his company, and brought to the surface the tried-and-tested strategy that had worked so many times before.

"Sleep with me!" I shouted.

The ugly fly-doctor swiveled around and stared at me, with surprisingly not-compound eyes. "When the siren call of the gray metal bed sounds," he began to rant, "even the most transformed and inhuman of minds finds it difficult to resist. When the very quintessence of lost humanity and luxury forsaken takes the form of a blond femme fatale and her trusty pearl necklace, still we must press forward, denying ourselves even the temptation to drink in her radiant countenance. But then, are we not remiss in our duty to fulfill that most basic and rudimentary of life's functions, which is to reproduce? Are we not obligated as a species to-"

"Hurry up! My gorgeousness won't last all day!" I lied. Who was I kidding - my gorgeousness will never go away.

Still, it fooled the fly-man, who came up to me and began drooling (thankfully not on me). He grabbed my arm, stroking it with his nasty gooey fingers, and I made a mental note to take at least five showers if I survived. "Alas, sometimes the choice is made for us," the rant continued, "by the caprices of cruel fate and transient beauty as fleeting and precious as the-"

"Hi-yah! Ice Girl Power Action!" I cried, grabbing his repulsive arm in my hand (note: ten showers) and freezing him solid. The freak unleashed a barrage of profanity that would probably have insulted me if I could hear any of it from under the ice. Luckily, it was not, so I was able to ignore it and concentrate on freezing my shackles and getting myself free. Then I turned to my shirtless boss, ogled him for about half a second, and froze his restraints off too! I had saved the day!

Then the table came flying at us, and the day was no longer saved.

Got to go now - I think Suresh has nearly freed himself from the ice, and I must use my superhero gorgeousness to defeat him. And after that, Senator Petrelli and I will begin our crusade to rid the world of ugliness, one ambiguously-mutated doctor at a time.

XOXO,
Superhero Tracy Strauss

Champagne?

For those of you who read my last note you are probably well aware that I was afraid to sleep due to my nightmare visions of the future... The coffee didn't work I still wound up having to sleep. And when I slept I dreamt.... well I'd really rather forget it...it was bad... Barney was involved... and a giant cockroach in a top hat and spats... just forget it. So I figured I'd try something else, Champagne... You see I don't have a great tolerance for alcohol. Heck even Claude calls me a "light weight" (may that's why he shoos me away from it?) so I thought I'd get blitzed and let you know if that works for avoiding nightmares. Nothing gets me wasted faster than champagne even if it's technically "sparkling wine". It think it's something to do with the carbonation.. As Claude has wandered off for quite a while this time (at least I think he has wandered off, of course with his gift you never know) I'll try some champagne.



When I picked up the room service wine list and nothing happened, I supposed that it was a good sign. If Claude is still here, he obviously doesn't have an issue with me drinking this time. The only problem, I discovered from reading the wine list, was that this posh place serves only the expensive stuff and I learned a long time ago that I don't like the expensive stuff. I like the cheap stuff! Fortunately, there was a supermarket not far from The Hotel that I knew had what I needed.


I hopped in a cab and went to the supermarket. I got a bunch of cheap champagne... OK it's technically "sparkling wine" but whatever, as far as I'm concerned it's cheap champagne. Just in case he came back (or was following me), I grabbed a 24 pack of beer for Claude. I figure Claude must either have gone some distance away this time or has given up on keeping me away from alcohol, as I've never gotten this close to beer etc in months. I made it all the way back in the same cab with no problems and the bell hop even helped me get it all in. He thought I was having a party. I tipped him well enough that there shouldn't be any further questions. I just hope Claude isn't mad when he gets back from, wherever it is he's gone. If he's not still here that is. I'm hoping the fact I got something for him will help. Of course I'd have gotten it anyway, but it can't hurt. I popped the cork on the first bottle, which I was amused to find was reclosable. That's one of the good things about cheap champagne; you can reclose the bottles. You can't do that with the expensive stuff. Once you open one you have to drink the whole thing. I poured a glass and finished it and poured another. After that... well all I know is I woke up with a mild headache and discovered I'd had two bottles. I'm also still alone, at least as near as I can tell I am. So far no night mares though I had a weird dream. I kept seeing flashes of London Landmarks. I'll have to ask Claude about that when he gets back or stops pretending he's not here, whichever it is.

Hihg Five, Trutle!

Atfer a raelly long spirit wlak and spirit filght, I finally arrvied back in the good UA of S. It was a crazy jrouney, but one taht gave me a new prupose in life: romacning a speedy gril.

Meet Matt Prakman, the love detetcive.

My new copmanion, Trutle, jioned me.

"Hihg five, Trutle!" I siad to him once we arrvied.

He jsut sat there sliently. He was porbably still uspet abuot teh shell cavity saerch.

I wraned him taht the truban was a bit much. It was bad enuogh taht he had a foriegn-suonding name like Trutle.


"I need yuo to cheer pu, Trutle," I siad to him as I galnced aruond fro my futrue love, Dahpen. "Yuo're my wnigman on tihs."

He seemed cofnused.

I epxlianed, "Yuor job is to ditsract her fat freind. Or tlak me up. Barg abuot me to her. I cna't barg abuot msyelf. Tell her abuot how graet I am whit Molly or smoething...."

Adn tehn I saw hre! She was even more bauetiful tahn in my prohpetic draems.


"Dno't run, Dahpen!" I called uot to my new love. "I'm not a stakler. Adn the obseity is jsut form the jet lag."

She stood speehcless staring at me adn my freind.

"I'm here to lvoe yuo," I cotnineud, "adn save yuo form dying."

I cuold sense taht I was abuot to carsh and brun, so I called in ym wnigman. I puhsed Trutle closer to hre and wihspered to him, "Put in a good wrod fro me."



I dno't know waht Trutle siad to her, btu it raelly did the tirck. She aksed me uot on a date rihgt tehn and there! I even got hre nubmer by teh end of it.


Trutle, yuo're the best wnigman a guy cuold ever aks fro!


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By teh way, be srue to sned in yuor photo catpions for teh cotnest:
http://www.burnttoastdiner.com/2008/10/400th-post-photo-caption-contest.html