48HRS (in jail)

Jail changes a man. Time on the inside seems so much longer. Although they tell me I've been on the inside for roughly forty-eight hours, it feels like several well developed lifetimes. Jonathan and I shared a cell, which was nice because he's compact and doesn't take up much space. He would always get really clammy whenever our cell-neighbor Rodrigo had one of his fits, but I found his Latin fire charming.

On a less bright note, Jonathan and I are currently on the run from Dark Willow. Luckily, The Slayer's Scooby Doo-esque gang has put us in their protection. I was able to momentarily borrow Willow's old laptop while the "Doobers" did research on helping Willow.

Warren: if you're reading this blog, and I assume you are, please rescue us! or at least me! I know you can't be dead, and I know you're smart enough to trick even Dark Willow. We're at the Magic Box. Also, while in jail, I wrote you this short poem to keep your spirits high and my devotion true:

I am the Chewbacca to your Han

I am So Low without you

You're like Kirk to Willow's Khan

Everyone is trying to doubt you

I know you're a Big Bad

But I see the good inside

Even when you're mad

Even when they say you died.

Like Michael Corleone

From The Godfather Part Two

I'll never leave you alone

I'll stay devoted to you.

ANDREW WILL NO LONGER BE WASTING VALUABLE RESOURCES AND MONEY ON HIS STUPID LITTLE BLOG. HE WILL ALSO PROBABLY BE DEAD SOON, SO PLEASE GET LIVES NERDS.

-ANYA