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Oh, Justine wanted me to mention the time we were chased around by a werewolf in Frankenstein's (or was it Draculas's?) Haunted Mansion in Niagara Falls. It frightened us silly: Isabel's hat got knocked off, and the werewolf tauntingly mimicked her cries of 'my hat, MY HAT!' Afterwards, Justine mentioned that she literally pooed herself. I made sure to ask her about it at the Ings' Thanksgiving dinner later that evening, noting that she was still wearing the same clothes. I don't know why she asked me to recount the story on the blog, it's pretty gross. But, come to think of it, she's somehow involved in every bodily-function story I've heard or retold recently: she startled some poor bloke on the street with a hiccough/sneeze the other day, giggle-farted in my room once (turning to blame the door-hinge) and unblinkingly supplied the requisite information as to how to make chicken stock ('just bung the carcass into a pot...' Don't know how that's a bodily-function thing, or even gross really, but examples MUST come in 3s, so...). The lady's pure style, and, like, the most creative person I know.
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Armand and Amy had a good game of 'what super power would you most want to have?' Teleportation ranked up there, as long as your clothes came with you. Armand claimed his to be the power to heal anybody, or, as Amy rejoined, 'to be Jesus'. Mine'd be telekinesis, for sure. Please post me your superpower of choice in the comments bit below. Or use your mind control, and I'll do it for you.