No, No, You'll Be MY Bitch

So, I've just realised that if Michael Bay ever gets murdered or Dan Brown gets tied down and forced to endure sexual assault of the anal variety from a group of highly trained octopus/gorilla hybrids that I will be the prime suspect.

Apart from the fact that this is totally unfair because my octopus (octopii?)/gorilla hybrid army is still flinging shit then escaping through unfeasibly small places when I try to discipline them for it, it also means there's a good chance I'll have to spend some time in jail.

Jail time? Lets get listy:

1) I will petition to be sent to a male prison full of prisoners who look like Ryan O'Reilly from Oz.

2) If I drop the soap and you try anything when I pick it up, I will kick you in your winky. I have a perfectly good front bottom, you know.

3) I'll drag the case through the courts for long enough before sentencing that my lawyers can find out all the blackmail info on the prison guards I need.

4) Since I won't have other nice distractions, like chocolate and unlimited internet access, I will work out like a mofo and end up with a body that gets me a Victoria's Secret contract upon my release.

5) I will use my blackmail material against the guards to get a job working in the kitchens. That way I can poison anyone I don't like. Or at least spit in their mashed potatoes.

6) As the only woman in an all-male prison, I'm going to need condoms. May as well fill them with drugs too. Double the pleasure.

7) Oh, and I'll be needing Wentworth Miller. With or without an escape plan, I don't mind.

Of course, I'll still blog when I can and let you all know about my amazing prison adventures. And one of you will need to feed the Octorillas while I'm gone. Or maybe Goripii, I haven't decided yet.

Also, I'm 30 tomorrow. Send cash.