Angel Grove Net

Dye and fake glasses. What a shopping list.

But one of those, or both, should fix the funny looks I get at work. Hopefully.

Maker, I DO loathe hospitals, though.

I don't know why it matters what gender someone is into. It's none of anyone's business, really. Just, an observation.

My son has a boyfriend, and my granddaughter likes girls. Well, my sort of granddaughter. Doesn't make me love them any less.

The nightmare isn't over, is it?

I can't believe it. I'm going to be Mrs. Lovett. It's going to be so amazing. I've been practicing and I think I'm getting to the neighbors just a little.

So, some dude called me Scott today. That was weird. But I suppose it's something I'll have to get used to.

This world is so nuts.

Bloody hell. What is this, then?

My name is Albus Dumbledore, and I appear to be in the States?

I'm Clary Fray.

I'm supposed to be in New York. What is this?

Um.

Erik?

Guys?

Well Hello Brave new world.

They won't let me go home yet. I am so sick of these hospital walls. I want to go home. I know I don't really remember Kurt, but honestly, he makes me feel really safe. For once in my life, I trust someone.

I'm not ready to sleep in the same bed but I do want to get out of here.

I'm around, I promise! Me an; Scorp have just off having proper adventures.

Mum, da? Anyone else here I know?

Looks like my baby brother prematurely said I'm here, but as weel suin as syne I introduce myself, and have that seen to, before 's time to relieve his shift entertaining my wayward nephew, while Bas takes his turn with my firebug niece. Long night in store for me, but then again, your world's got kindle.

My ain hame's far different from this so I'll not BEGIN asking how it works, but uh, I'm Cal. Prince Calum, of Starkhaven, once, and dying didn't take the title, even though I'll never have to rule. Who else is here bloody confused as I am?

I'm so sad it's all over. Boo hiss.

You were all so entertaining. Guess I'll have to go back to my shows.

It's terrible to be excited when your mate's found out he's got to have his tonsils out they're so infected but the timing can't be better. See, they didn't want to wait around much longer, given how shite they are, and that's a surgery that takes a LOT of a recovery time from in your day and age.

Saint Paddy's Day's in ten days and he's lead singer of the band I was to open for...You see where this is going? If I send round a big enough tub of ice cream when they're doing it next week, does that absolve me of a little guilt? Or do I have to say ten Hail Marys about it, now?