Tonight on a very special “To Catch a Predator”…

Dear Taylor Lautner lovers, counting down the days until he turns 18 (56),

What would happen if you had the opportunity to meet up with Taylor Lautner? Sarah (comment name SEM) shared with us a story of one lucky woman who did just that or so she thought…Call it fan fiction; call it a work of art; call it so realistic it’s a bit disturbing; We just call it EPICNESS (and hope you don’t call Chris Hansen on us).

To Catch a Predator

I arrived at the nondescript little house around 4 p.m. As I pulled my generic automobile into the driveway, I noticed I was shaking a little. Did I have a sense of foreboding? Did I suspect what trouble lay around the bend? Was I just super-uber excited about getting to meet Taylor Lautner?

It’s hard to say. Sure, like any red-blooded woman I was thrilled about meeting the sexier half of Swiftner. But if I was being honest with myself, I did find it a little odd that I had met Taylor in a chat room a few weeks ago and was meeting him in person in what amounted to BFE, Middle America. It didn’t seem logical that Taylor would live anywhere near there, but I figured with his money he might have properties all over the place. And it did have its charms. It was the kind of small town you’d see in a typical 1950s filmstrip about wholesomeness.

But I didn’t feel wholesome. Who knows why. Maybe it was because I was meeting him for the first time at his home instead of in a public place. Maybe I was experiencing a sort of compulsory nervousness that accompanies all first dates. Or maybe it was the fact that the instant messages I had been sending the as-yet-underaged TaycobSexxy8Pak@perv-sting.com for the last 6 weeks had been categorically debauched. Whatever it was, I was uneasy.

My jitters caused me to drop my tote bag on the way to the door. I told myself to get a grip. He’s just another guy. He’s probably nervous too. I rapped lightly on the door. There was no answer. I knocked a little harder. Nothing. What, does he think I can just use some tree limbs like the uneven parallel bars and then ricochet off the side of his house directly into his bedroom? I’m fast, but I’m not that fast. Finally I heard a young man’s voice from inside the house.

“It’s open. Just come on in.”

Okay, he’s not even gonna come to the door. I know he’s underaged, but he’s old enough to know what bad manners that is…

I opened the door and slowly stepped across the threshold. I didn’t immediately observe anything out of the ordinary, though the décor was admittedly Spartan. Perhaps he had just recently moved in. Hanging in the hallway was a portrait of Taylor with what appeared to be a grandparent. He’s sentimental… That’s hott.

Looking for Taylor, I stepped into the kitchen. The plain pine cabinets, beige linoleum floor, and outdated appliances made the room appear dour despite the light color palette. In the center of the room was a plain pine island surrounded by wooden stools. Something about this house, especially this room, was familiar, but I couldn’t pinpoint where I might have seen it.

Just then he called out from a room farther back down the hallway: “I’m just gonna throw a load of towels into the washer. I’ll be right out.”

This isn’t right… Something is very wrong. Why hasn’t he come out to say hi? Why is he doing laundry when he should be doing me? Why did that picture of he and his grandmother look like someone cut out one of Taylor’s magazine covers and grafted it onto the picture that came with the frame?

At that moment he uttered the words that I immediately recognized as the harbingers of disaster:

“I made some sweet tea. Go ahead and pour yourself a glass. I’ll be right out.”

I realized instantly why the house was so familiar. About 3 things I was absolutely positive. First, I had not been corresponding with the real Taycob. Second, a part of my online conversations – and I didn’t know how large a part – were going to be exposed on network television. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably busted.

Uh oh. Who caught her? Read on after the jump! Continue…

126 Commented

Chris Hansen: Protector of underage wolves & this girl's worst enemy

I was browsing our mailbox looking for something amazing to share with you today, and I came across two honest letters from this reader, who loves all the wolves, whether Chris Hansen likes it or not:

I'll detour you right into a wall.....

Dear Twilight (in all shapes and forms),

I’m that kind of girl…you know who I’m talking about- the girl who wants to be a hip early 20something, foreign-films-with-subtitles watching and epic poetry-reciting- type. Instead I’ve become the girl who takes a detour during work just so I can get a glimpse of the new “New Moon” cover with the smoldering Taylor on it, covers my face when I ask for a magazine with anything Twilight related and gets ignored when I send pics of Boo Boo Stewart to my friends, nonchalantly hoping for a fangirl reaction. In other words…my name is IllegalWolfLover and I’m a Twilosexual.

The only people who knew of my problem before this letter were my fiance (who is slowly morphing into a unicorn) and my cat (who perfectly embodies both Edward and Jacob with smoldering stares and excessive body heat). I haven’t even told my parents, and I have a feeling they’d feel better if I was admitting to being a fake-lesbian rather than this thing I’ve become.

I can understand why someone would want to wear this...

I want to wear a Twilight tee with pride rather than sneering at the 8 year olds who wear “Team Jacob” tees just because their moms can’t. I want to be able to talk about the wonder of Edward and Jacob and the steamy goodness of “Team Switzerland” without having a million people roll their eyes at me. And finally, I want to make peace with myself for not going to the midnight screening just because I don’t want fangirls screaming and disturbing my viewing pleasure. I wanna be outed, but no one (sniff) no one cares….Tell me, you “loud and proud” amazing Twilighters, what is a girl to do?

I have resorted to pulling an “Eddie” and driving around fan-sites (in my mustard yellow ford transit) and perving, but now I have decided…I’m putting the candy out there and hopefully I will lure in a friend….we can hold hands and tell my parents….together….

Thanks for listening,
A lonely Jort in Jacob’s closet,

IllegalWolfLover

Dear “Jacob’s Transformation” clip,

We need to talk…*pats seat beside her*. I know you dread those four words more than Big Daddy dreads dropping his last filet-o-fish on the street, but I need to tell you something…I think I should start seeing other clips. No please don’t cry, you know I hate it when you do that…let me explain…ever since we first met a few days ago….I’ve been having these feelings. Like I’m obsessed with you. Remember the night I first saw you? I couldn’t stop looking at you…I even played you in bed while my fiance was nearby. You really made my kitty meow that night.It was dangerous and exciting and it felt oh so right, but it has to end….

I have no life because of you. I’m not “down with the kids” anymore, and I wanna be able to accomplish things without knowing that watching your 1 minute of hot and dirty goodness will be my reward. But you know how to keep me coming back for more don’t you? You keep teasing me with little things I didn’t notice before like how hot Paulex is (even when he sprays a little in his anger) or how Taycob stumbles just a liiiitle bit during his run, or Sam’s Alpha voice.

But worst of all, you’re making me fall in love with you, and believe me, I’m not that kind of girl….you even made me impatient to get to you…before I knew it I was shooing away Taylor’s face (gasp!) just to get to you and that’s when I realized….you’ve gone too far. So I’m deleting you…forever. It will be as if you never existed…..

I.Love.You.
IllegalWolflover

PS: Spoilers– Don’t watch if you don’t want to (PS: we saw this BEFORE Moon’s post yesterday)

Give IllegalWolfLover some much needed Twilight friends!
And hang out on The Forum
It’s Saturday- with Rob & Moon on LTR

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