My Grandma had a tail and ate insects, my

My Grandma had a tail and ate insects, my mother told me when I was six. I wondered why she wore the dresses she did and kept her own bee colonies. We never lacked honey.

What we did lack was cookies. Never was I aloud to taste some.

Purified water? Gallons. Ammo? Truck-loads. Lorna Doone Shortbreads? Not a crumb. I donned on my bio-hazard suit. Time to go shopping.

Hopping into my Pursuit Special, I cruised desolate, menacing streets to Trader Joe's. Joe accepted two selfie sticks and an ear-piercing voucher in exchange for the Lorna Doones

utter everyday. They were pretty out of shape, but they never did exercise and spent all day inside on the internet. The humans, displeased, decided to declare war. The dinosaurs

rolled theirs eyes at the Customs Officer and mouthed "Americans" at him. But the Customs Officer took it seriously. He pressed some hidden button and American was surrounded.

"Sir," began the Officer in Charge, "please step away from your declaration. Yes, that one in your hand. Please just place it on the counter and step away. Yes the pen also."

The man looked back at him with a sideways glare and threw the folded paper onto the desk. He put a hand on his hip and gave the Officer a venomous stare.

If you've ever seen anyone have to suck the venom out of another person's eyes, you'd know what I've been through. I'll never forget that night. The paper. The eye-sucking. Blech.