Here! Here- Take your weird dolls (tosses and runs back to welder)

Hey people. AHHHHHHH! I have NO TIME- yet here I am providing weird Wed fodder for you. See? All about you people. I give and I give. This is a shorty so I can get right back to work, but features one of my favorite creepy dolls EVAH.

See, I was with my pal Linda on one of our disturbia safaris. I was innocently looking inside this sinister suitcase, stuffed with victims-- one gasping and reaching for daylight-- when Linda scared the bu-jeebus out of me by holding up HER--

I know- I could hear your audible gasps all the way through the internet. Isn't she fantastic? The palid skin, the funky eye, matted hair, and if you look really close-- the bloody nose-- It could only be "night of the living dead private school girl!"

Just look (if you dare) at her milky, sightless eyes. She may look petite but don't be fooled, she wants you for your brains, and not in the good way.

Lastly, this isn't that creepy, but... We had these "people" when I was little. Sis and me would set up elaborate "sets" and create dramas that veered disturbingly into adult territory- murder, brothels, affairs, suicides, drug dealing-- nothing was off limits for our Fisher Price village. For some reason the one with the frowny face and brown hair?-- We always had her be the bad one, and would always make her die in some karmically spectacular fashion. Okay, maybe it is weird after all.

In other SueNews:

Continuing to query. So far I have one no response, two "I need more time's", and one full request. Not too bad. The next one I want to approach wants a synopsis. Do I have one? No. Did I really know totally what one is? -- Um, no. Obviously it's a condensed version of your story, but I had to do some research on exactly what they want to see when they ask for this. It's kind of time consuming. You have to go through the whole novel chapter by chapter and make cliff's notes, then go back and rewrite that so it's gripping and no longer than 2 pages. I've been working on that at night, after my night shift in the shop. So, yeah, not done yet.

Riding is going good. Loving the trail even though trying to move into higher (harder) gears is a killer. When Trusty Pam and I rode in town last Sun, doing another recon ride for the UAR, we had two separate incidents of totally smoking spandex guys who assumed they'd be faster than us. SWEET. I know it's mean, but there are few things I enjoy more. One weaved past us at a red to stop right in front of us, because, in his estimation, he'd obvs be tons faster than us on our dork bikes. Wrong dude. Very wrong.

The other time these two guys were just going way too slow for us so we passed them. I was in the lead so kept glancing at my directions as we went along, not really paying any more attention to them. But Pam said once we passed, one of them (the most spadexy one, on a road bike with little skinny tires) began really pouring it on, hunching over the bars and trying to repass us. DENIED. (and I wasn't even trying to really hammer it) (and my bike has a wind resistance creating handlebar hula girl on it.)

Of course this unleashed a completely obnoxious bout of us trash talking about how awesome we are. It was ugly people. Completely unsavory. Later, we went to Michael's and bought stuff to make handlebar streamers for our bikes. Wait until you see our complete ensembles for the UAR. Just WAIT. Us = ~*fancy*~ --and formidable. A little. Maybe. Or not. Probably only in our minds.