| 12; 23 April 1981 |
[23 Apr 12 @ 9:23am] |
Man, this day is already off to the best flipping start. First off there's all these great journal entries essentially giving bullshit-spewing purists the finger, then for the first time in like eight million years the bakery wasn't out of my favorite muffins (FYI Daily Prophet, I bought all they had left so I hope you lot like banana chocolate chip), and then I'm on my course to work and BOOM. DRAGON!
Best Monday EVER!
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| 11; 12 April 1981 |
[12 Apr 12 @ 8:49am] |
Today I am happier than a fat pigeon with a hot dog. I feel like CELEBRATING, and AS SUCH, I have acquired CAKE! Fellow Daily Prophet employees, this is how much I love you (and today, the world around me!). In the meantime, though, I think they should set up a line at the Ministry to wherever they're keeping the prick, so that Mudbloods like myself can give him individual, vindicating kicks right in his servile, likely disgusting face!
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| 10; 30 March 1981 |
[30 Mar 12 @ 8:08am] |
Someone tried to shoot Ronald Reagan, what in shit! He's only been in office for like, a fart in the wind! (He's the muggle president of the states, and he used to be a pretty bleeding great actor in his day; my grandmother was sort of obsessed with him, and if I had a galleon for every time I sat with her and watched The Killers, I'd be a damn rich lady.)
Seriously, what is everyone's obsession with killing everyone else?
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| 009; 22 March 1981 |
[22 Mar 12 @ 8:48pm] |
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HE'S REANIMATING DEAD PEOPLE NOW?!?
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| 008; 19 March 1981 |
[19 Mar 12 @ 10:14pm] |
Midnight waffles. I blame you, Victor Ketteridge.
[Private]I don't like this.
I don't like this day-to-day feeling lost and bewildered bullshit, or the jumping at small noises, or the feeling compelled to wear long sleeves all the damn time like people at work don't know what's there. I'd rather be completely and utterly unable to stop the first thought that comes to mind from coming out of my mouth, than drowning in my muted opinions and new-found lack of bollocks. I like being alive, but what the hell's the point if I'm just shuffling from interaction to interaction, keeping my nose clean and pretending like nothing's the matter? I don't want to go to work. I don't want to go home. I don't want to go to Mighty Quills, and I don't want to just sit in the dark with my eyes closed like a nervous fucking tit, and like the dark would stop them from seeing me if they really wanted to anyway. I'm not that important, I know I'm not, but I feel like masks and hoods are just haunting every crevice, and corner, and that they're outside of every window. I've done what they've wanted. I've stopped writing in big letters and using 'fuck' as noun, adjective, and whatever to both (attempt to) demean and describe what they do. For Beth and Aiden's sake. For my own too, I guess. Though probably more for the cat than myself. No, that's not true. I'm scared stupid at even the briefest recollections of what happened at work. I don't want to die. I really, really don't want to die. I haven't done anything yet.
But I guess I won't get to if I don't stop pissing myself at every creak of the stairs. I mean, Jesus, the bullpen is like a damn labyrinth!
But, yeah. No.
No. Infamy is not an accomplishment.
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| 007; 20 February 1981 (about 11am) |
[19 Feb 12 @ 8:57pm] |
[ooc - written with a quick quotes quill & please note date/time; I won't get a chance to post tomorrow]
Scars are sexy, right?
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| 006; 07 February 1981 |
[07 Feb 12 @ 6:57pm] |
I have an insatiable flippin' need for curry. I know it to be insatiable because I've eaten curry for dinner for the last three days, and I still want it. In fact, I'm going to get some, maybe even three orders, and then I'm going to eat the whole bleeding lot of it (unless I explode from ingesting too much in the middle of the consuming). And no, nosy parkers, this craving is not a sign of impending sprog. You've got to shag someone to manage that.
[Friends/Coworkers]Think it's safe to come out from under my rock now? I think my cat probably misses me, and I'm sure Victor would like to go back to not wearing trousers..
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| 005; 01 February 1981 |
[01 Feb 12 @ 3:14pm] |
I'm a five foot two, one-hundred and fifteen pound loudmouth. Am I really that threatening?
[Ed Rifle]Well. This is pretty fucked. [Victor & Ashley]Thanks again for harboring me, boys.
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| 004; 31 January 1981 |
[31 Jan 12 @ 8:47pm] |
[Ash - charmed to ding until answered]Sorry to bother you so late, mate, but uh. I don't suppose that offer is still on the table is it? Just. Looks like Death Eaters are writing my name on dead people and it might be a good idea if I don't stick around my house. Protection of terrorists or no.
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| 003; 25 January 1981 |
[25 Jan 12 @ 4:46pm] |
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Watch away, you bloody pillocks.
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| 002; 09 January 1981 |
[09 Jan 12 @ 7:37pm] |
Right. So. It has come to this.
Dearest Eaters of Death:
We get it. You don't like muggles and muggleborns. You think that they're icky and weird and you don't want their germs. Lucky you, I have a solution! Don't hop into bed with them! Leave them to those of us who aren't picky about who we shag, and continue you on with whatever it is you do outside of homicidal rage (Tea parties? Sleepovers?)! You have proven that you are very scary and murderous and that masks are the bleeding height of fashion, and so now, please, take your damn leave and give us a break from your elongated PMS! I haven't slept properly since second year! I see green glitter in any capacity and I flinch to high heaven! I have burned all of my black robes for fear of being attacked by crazy people in the streets! Seriously. Seriously. It's been all mass panic and insanity and what-have-you and Jesus Christ on a cracker, I'm just done. I want my quidditch back. I want--
Aw, fuck it.
Quidditch babies. That's what's left in all this shit, people; stalking down formerly top-notch athletes because they're using this bollcks extended off-season to procreate. Hoo-bleeding-ray.
My life.
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| 001; 01 January 1981 |
[01 Jan 12 @ 12:16pm] |
Oh now that is just bleeding hilarious. I didn't realize that sinking to the level of masked insanity was a being considered for legitimacy. In fact, I was under the impression (and this, you know, coming from years in school of being taught that the 'Unforgivables' didn't come across that title wholly by accident; and then, well, there's that whole persecuting the Munchers of Death because they're killing, controlling, and torturing people) that these spells were bad. Dark Arts. Helpful in defining evil; that you'd find them used as an example when elaborating on what it means to be a 'bad guy' in a blood supremacy war.
Jesus, Mary, and Father Christmas.
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