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[May. 2nd, 2010|01:59 pm] |
I'm still alive, of course. In case any of you internet denizens were worried about me, which I entirely doubt was the case. We're all so disconnected in this time, it's worse than the day of the telephone. At least in that time you could hear a person's very voice. What we've got now is a facsimile of our words with no inflection or context. It makes for a very tough time to connect on a deeply personal level.
I propose a solution to this circumstance. I implore the masses of our fine board to go out this week and speak to a stranger. |
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[Jan. 30th, 2010|09:14 pm] |
what the bloody fucking hell is this mad shite//11111 where the hell am/ do you know what i was doing before i was pulled by an effing tornado ... There. I can yell at whoever the hell is responsible for this shit properly now. DO YOU KNOW WHERE I WAS BEFORE I WAS PULLED HERE BY WHATEVER THE HELL THAT WAS!? A TORNADO! In SCOTLAND!? BLOODY FUCKING BUGGERING SODDING HELL AND DAMNATION AND FUCK! I said that already didn't I? The WEIRD SISTERS! It was OPENING NIGHT of my band's first tour with the fucking WEIRD SISTERS! Not opening with them! Not the side show! One of the MAIN ones! And flying my way there and I get sucked here. I want answers and I want them now. Where am I? How did I get here? Yes, other than the obvious. It's rather difficult to miss a tornado. And why was there a tornado involved. How do I get back? I need to get back. My manager is going to geld me. And that's only after my Nana Molly rips me a new one for missing the celebratory dinner she's prepared. The entire family is going to be there. Do you know how bloody difficult to get all of us in one place these days? Just you wait. What the shitting hell! Godric. I don't care what dad says. Any woman who can kick Bellatrix Lestrange's arse is a woman to fear. I'm not taking the blame for this. Not when it isn't even my damned fault. You lot can tell my Nana why her grandson couldn't make the celebration. You can go right ahead and tell my mum too. And my aunt 'Mione. And my aunt Fleur. In fact, go right ahead and tell the lot of them.
Oh, and yeah. Great-aunt Petunia's throwing me her own the week later. Have fun with that. The telling her. Because I am not going to do so.
I'll just sit back and watch.
My manners. Almost forgot them. James Sirius Potter. At your service. Sorry about the bit of ranting not really. Bloody fucking hell. Almost dropped MY GUITAR. MY GUITAR. DO YOU KNOW WH I do autographs. Even on the skin. |
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[Jan. 24th, 2010|07:17 pm] |
Aside from the seemingly shared dream which we all experienced, I've seen neither hide nor hair of these "interesting experiences" you folk insisted I should expect.
Ms. Sable, if I could possibly be entirely ungentlemanly for a moment, would you like to have another night out? Or perhaps, a night in? |
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[Jan. 11th, 2010|03:52 am] |
Whirlwinds in the opera house. Whatever next.
Whilst I can work this contraption, I'd rather like an explanation. This isn't the opera, nor is it the 1800s any longer... that much I can tell. |
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[Jan. 9th, 2010|11:15 pm] |
I say, first myself and now Sir Doyle's work. This is proving to be a rather fascinating universe. |
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| Voice Post |
[Jan. 10th, 2010|12:16 am] |
[ooc: fading in and out, with little background noise]
...Device on? It is alight, somehow, though not hot to... like candles would be...
...Seems to be... writing down what I say. How peculiar! It's as though a very small transcription artist was trapped in...
...does 'Post' mean? I've no correspond- |
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[Dec. 30th, 2009|11:25 pm] |
DAMN that was fun!
Shit, I love Christmas. |
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[Dec. 29th, 2009|07:19 pm] |
Well, that certainly is new to me.
Could someone kindly explain how I managed to be brought back to London by tornado? |
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