Check this out for a preview of coming attractions. Pictures of us for sale!
You can buy a copy if you want. That would be a little weird, but...whatever.
In other news, I'm posting the story below because it makes me happy. This was an add-on story between me, Shelley and Laura--I think it was a long time ago. If any of you want to finish it, I'm dying to know how it ends.
Once upon a time there was a girl named Shellinskaya who liked to sit and read by her pool. She read all sorts of books; Books about love, books about vengeance, and books about how to win friends and influence people. One day, as Shellinskaya was sitting in her favorite spot by the pool, the sun beating down on her intent figure…
A handsome young brute happened by and said "My...what a nice figure."He said this to himself because, well, thinking aloud is generally frowned upon. The strange thing about the brute is that he was lost. He had been busy fighting dragons and slaying filthy rich rastards from the Netherlands when suddenly, *POOF!* he happened upon the fair Shellinskaya at the pool. It seems he'd entered some kind of time continuuuum vacuuuum wormhole and nobody has ever understood those so just go with it. He greeted Shellinskaya with a "Holla back now!"
Shellinskaya battered her eyes. Actually, she battered her fries and batted her eyes. Yes, that's it. Her eyes. "What up, G?"
The Brute, thus addressed, firmly replied, "Wiggidy wack. Love."
His name was Peter. Oddly, the main character in our heroine's book was named....Petro.
"Do I know you?" Shellinskaya asked, wondering where the brute came from and why he was talking to her. Peter explained that he was a secret agent for the Russian government and was fighting dragons from the Netherlands. The last word Shellinskaya heard Peter say was Russian. You see, Shellinskaya loved Russian novels and dreamt of visiting the motherland one day.
The odd thing about Shellinskaya is that although she had a Russian name and loved Russian literature, she was actually a very small and shrewd African-American who has been denied all the luxuries of life--thus we enter into a B-movie with little to no plot line but some very good dancing...
Peter and Shellinskaya continued their strange conversation, which only continued to get stranger as Shellinskaya confused Peter with Petro, the character in her book (Petro, as we all know, means Peter in Icelandic). Peter explained, as people often do in these sorts of stories, that his greeting to Shellinskaya was actually a secret code...that she failed with flying colors.
The even odder thing about this odd pair is that they had managed to enter the time vacuum device together and now found themselves on a beach in Madagascar. You know, spider monkies and such. Well, thankfully S-Dawg was a small shrew--er, shrewd--Africanish woman, so she knew all about spider monkies. But did she know about mad, rabid, evil-terrorist-plot spider monkies? A good question. That's where our story gets interesting. Spider monkies are known for their anti-Russian-African-Scandinavian-American tendencies, and this one was no different. As soon as he spotted the twitterpated couple he began plotting against them. The goal? To kill their love, their puppy, and their very souls. In that order. Or maybe love and souls are synomous. Semantics. (Narrator interjection: If you'll recall, semantic is different than semitic. So if you hear a band called Anti-Semantic, don't alert the ACLU. Can't we all just get along?)
So anyway, the evil arachna-monkey anxiously awaited his opportunity to destroy our main characters. And he waited with a swichblade...