Call the police.  Octo-woman is being held hostage in the closet-under-the-stairs by the avatar of my nephew Tim Fitzpatrick.

Why did I let the avatars appear in the blobs for two days in a row? What was I thinking? Too late, now I know that if you give the avatars an inch, they will invade the premises like bedbugs. Even my sister’s closet isn’t safe. They keep stealing her clothes because they are cloning like rabbits. To clothe their offspring, they have commandeered the warehouse sister Joan uses to store her off-season clothes in. And then they blame it on ME.

The name of Tim’s avatar is Abdul the Terrorist.  He says if I don’t let him hijack today’s blob, there will be a nuclear war, and I have to tell you that a nuclear war can ruin your whole day.  He says he will either publish a message on today’s blob or else he’s taking it straight to the New York Times or to the AARP Monthly Newsletter, and then, he says, “Plan to face personal ruination”.

Apparently, I have been blacklisted as an Enemy of Islam, a Devil of Decay, an Infidel of Infamy, a Heretic of the Harem.

This is all nephew Tim’s fault as you’ll realize if you read his comment on yesterday’s blob. Apparently, the intimate details and pornography revealed therein shocked him beyond repair.  Okay, okay, I know.  The avatars may have gone a little overboard with the hardcore sexy stuff, but you have to admit, sex sells!  The readership of this blob goes way up whenever keywords appear in it like “Spicy” or “Saucy” even if I’m only talking about the family’s thanksgiving day menu.  And anyway, those avatars are to blame, not me.

Tim’s published comment got me busted – cross that out – it got me exposed. No, his comment left me uncovered – delete that – revealed. Well, darn it, see what I mean? No matter how hard I try, I just can’t help being sexy.

So that’s why I have been forced to relinquish tonight’s blob to Tim’s avatar, Abdul.  He says he will be making demands.  Please do whatever you can to save me.  I don’t think I will be able to operate effectively in a harem.

For those who have trouble understanding “avatar-speak” on the video, here’s a script of Abdul’s demands.

ABDUL:  This is Abdul the Terrorist speaking.  I am the avatar of Timothy Fitzpatrick.

Attention. We been encumbered with an aunt who publishes pornographic blobs on the internet.  She reveals details of a sexual nature, photographs of intimate wearing apparel, and a tutorial on pole dancing.  This will not be tolerated.  Unless our demands are met, we will begin obliterating sacred American institutions like Netflix, Costco, and the Gummi-Bears factory.

These are our demands:  Number one. From now on, Octo-woman must wear a birka, mask and veils over her sweats. Number two. She must never again give sexuality tips to her littlest granddaughter April. And Number Three. Octo-woman must relinquish use of her skateboard when wearing her mini-bra and her patent leather short shorts.

Those are our demands.  Meet them or you will be very sorry, Octo-woman, you sexy thing you.