If my husband's going to kiss anybody, let it be Matt Damon.
I imagined calling in to my own radio show: Yeah hi, I'm a werewolf, and I'm stuck in a cabin in the woods with another werewolf and a werewolf hunter.
Probably in a parallel universe not far from here, I'm working for Nintendo.
Probably that you're going to be eaten by a giant marshmallow or something.
I used to lie in bed in my flat and imagine what would happen if there was a zombie attack.
If you weren't here, if you could be anywhere you wanted to be, doing anything you wanted to do, where would you be and what would you be doing?
My favorite thing to do as a kid was pretend I was in the opening credits of a sitcom. As the theme song would play, I'd look up at the imaginary camera and smile as my name would flash on the screen.
I'd love to be a dead body in the emergency room and have George Clooney go, 'This one's gone!' while he puts a sheet on me.
Every dude in here has had a fantasy about Jessica Simpson. Here's mine: Jessica, hold your sister Ashlee so I can kick her in the throat.
I frowned, wondering if Trent would mind being the size of a fairy for a day. He could talk to the newest tenants in his garden.
I certainly hadn't expected to walk away from today's trip with joint custody of a miniature dragon.
I've spent three hours hanging upside down while fighting off dinosaur attacks. That was a lot of fun.
If this were a movie, I would bust a secret move so fierce the entire place would be razed to the ground. I'd finish with something snappy like "And don't forget my soda, punk" while I strolled off into the night.
