26 November 2002 - 4:25 p.m. So I woke up this morning and I was a llama. Yep, a llama--a shaggy camel-thing with yearnings for South American Mountains. Well after rocking back and forth on my back in my bed with my gangly limbs flopping about, I made it onto the floor with a kind of whump that only a shaggy camel-thing could make. The bamboo palm potted near the wall was laid waste, the cats ran like hell and there was angora everywhere. I rose to my feet as best as I could. Eight toes spread across four feet is, well it's disturbing, and I slid around on the wood floor like two awkward teenage girls in a horse costume wearing roller-skates. It was at this moment that I noticed that I was producing great quantities of foamy saliva which collected between my protruding lower teeth and flappy lips. Wonderful. Slowly, I began to gain my balance and I walked up to the mirror. I was greyish-white and comical-looking with big, surprised eyes and a top-lip that had two parts that seemed to move independantly of each other. I had stubby, rabbit-like ears that just about spun around on the top of my head like satellite dishes. . . and there was that foamy saliva. I tried to say, "Holy crap," but managed only to belt out, "MEAHEHEHE," at which point a wad of spit the size of a small grapefruit struck the mirror obscuring my reflection. All I could see was the outer sillhouette of my quadriped form that supported a barrel-like abdomen and a penis the size of a zucchini. Well, I guess it's not all bad. Although, if I ever expect to use it again, I'll have to mount some dusty, matted, female llama, or some really kinky human female. I'd lean in toward her and try to whisper in her ear, being as gentle as I can, but only manage only to belt out, "MEAHEHEHE," followed by a lip-pouch full of saliva. Romantic, huh? Anyway, she'd have to be built like the Lincoln Tunnel and she'd have to have biceps like Lou Ferigno to support my weight, because, you know. . . llama style. . . I tried to call my boss at work, but having only two toes on each foot, dialing was impossible, not to mention the fact that after struggling with it for a few minutes it was coccooned in a mass of sticky, bubbly saliva. All she would have heard, had I managed to dial the number would have been a muffled "meahehehehe" any way. Luckily, it wore off after a few hours. I just my boss that I broke down on the highway. (0) Comments?