Last night, after a lengthy discussion of Backstreet Boys fan fiction and the terrors of big black penises, Maya and I concluded that Clay and I may possibly be long lost relatives. We bare striking resemblances to each other, unruly mind of its own red hair, green eyes, glasses, bad sense of style, and freckles a-plenty. Maya says we even have the same personality... except I'm funnier. Indeed I am. Or am I?

This convo prompted a most freakish nightmare. I don't remember how it began, but Clayton and I were making out in the back of a grade school classroom. In the midst of our tonguing, Maya ran in shouting "The DNA results are in!" I had no idea what she was talking about. I had to pry Clay off my face to ask her what the hell was going on.

"Patti... Clay... You two are really brother and sister."

Clay and I both screamed out simultaneously in the same tone.

"Oh my God!"

"Stop sounding like me!"

"You're sounding like me!"

I woke up in a cold sweat. What if it's true?! Brothers and sisters can't have torrid love affairs... or can they? Maybe in the south. I'll have to call him and ask.