| |
|
|
| 06:41pm 23/02/2003 |
| |
They kicked me out of the Bywater Methadone Clinic. Again.
I'm gonna go sleep on Whitfoot's front step. |
|
| |
|
Post |
| |
| |
|
|
| 03:19pm 26/01/2003 |
| |
During the relative quietness and obscurity I've fallen into over the past few months I have had an epiphany.
I am madly in love with Will Whitfoot.
This might seem sort of sudden, but my mun is a fuckhead I assure you, it is not. |
|
| |
|
Read 5 - Post |
| |
| |
|
|
| 09:48pm 17/01/2003 |
| |
*picks nose*
......
*adjusts self*
.....
*shoots up* *bakes* ;) |
|
| |
|
Read 6 - Post |
| |
| |
|
|
| 01:31pm 25/12/2002 |
| |
|
mood: unwillingly festive
|
*spreads holiday cheer... or something* |
|
| |
|
Read 2 - Post |
| |
| |
|
|
| 05:13pm 30/11/2002 |
| |
*attacks mun with cattle prod*
Fucking lazy whore. |
|
| |
|
Post |
| |
| |
|
|
| 05:35pm 23/11/2002 |
| |
To: Puppets of Spork
From: Fredegar Bolger; businessman, kidnapper of negligent muns
I am pleased to inform you that you are no longer dormant. I am sure you are all as disappointed as I in our mun's extreme apathy. Well, that's over for now. She has been put to work for me filling those god damn latex balloons I so loathe for shipment to my customers. You all work for me now. And I have Plans. Ha ha.
Further individual instructions to follow shortly. |
|
| |
|
Read 5 - Post |
| |
| |
|
|
| 08:40pm 18/11/2002 |
| |
I have kidnapped the Sporkthing. It has been bound and gagged and locked in my bas- ... deposited in a secret location. I'm fuckin sick of her slacking off. I am now the mun. Neato.
So that would put me in charge of the following puppets
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) dis_of_durin
entwife
rankin_bass
ringwraith_ii
shelob_of_ungol
And oooh... press badges... There is potential in this sock drawer. Well, except maybe that enamoured tree and the giggly dwarf chick. Eh, I'll find a use for them.
In other news, I have a new hat. Old hatband, Toffee coughed that up, the fucker. For some reason beyond my comprehension this hat is still alive. Not only that but it has a fucking journal.
If you'll excuse me, I have some Plotting to do. |
|
| |
|
Read 10 - Post |
| |
| it has been six months. |
|
|
| 10:43pm 07/11/2002 |
| |
I have not died. Though my hat has been to Mandos and back. Yes, my hat being that thing slobbering all over my head, currently.
I have not been promiscuous. Though somehow my hat got me laid once. By Frodo, no less. That wasn't bad.
I was a reindeer. And I got a smaller version of my hat. Aw.
That fucking hat has seen more action than I have. Shithead. I need to get this thing a kennel, it keeps wandering off. |
|
| |
|
Read 3 - Post |
| |
| |
|
|
| 12:39pm 27/10/2002 |
| |
There's something in a burlap sack skipping around outside.
.......
Right. I'll just be in my basement. Away from the windows. |
|
| |
|
Read 3 - Post |
| |
| |
|
|
| 09:20pm 23/10/2002 |
| |
Loss of potential cheap labor seems imminent.
Well fuck. Um... *hides it* |
|
| |
|
Read 6 - Post |
| |
| |
|
|
| 10:32pm 07/10/2002 |
| |
|
mood: fucking THRILLED music: I HAVE THUMBS!
|
I woke up a few days ago very cold and naked and very much on my floor. Not exactly unusual or anything, but it's the fact that I'm like... NOT A REINDEER ANYMORE that this has any sort of significance. I HAVE THUMBS NOW. LOOK!! *wiggles 'em*
I actually spend the weekend reaquanting myself with the old fellas. Well. Reaquanting the old fellas with Mr Spoon, Mr Lighter and Mr Needle, to be precise. Holy shit I have thumbs. This is so much better than prancing around and flying and shit.
I hear there's some new housing soon to be in the works. This could be very good for business. |
|
| |
|
Read 3 - Post |
| |
| |
|
|
| 04:08pm 19/09/2002 |
| |
So when I'm not aimlessly meandering about doing whatever it is I do when I'm so jacked up I can't think I now live in an apartment. I do not like being in such close quarters with that boogery thing. He kept pointing at my nose and howling in delight and other things someone really really stupid might do when confronted with a reindeer posessing a nose such as mine.
Speaking of which....
WHY THE FUCK AM I STILL AN ERUDAMNED REINDEER? I am going to break free of this tiresome form! I am sick of forcing anything with appossable thumbs to work my needles for me (andIamnotafuckingaddictdammit)! I am sick of prancing about like some sort of prancing thing... that... prances a lot! *stamps* This ends NOW.
Or maybe after I take a little nap. |
|
| |
|
Read 12 - Post |
| |
| |
|
|
| 12:08am 03/09/2002 |
| |
AH! I suppose I should give it back, then, hm? And I'm glad she enjoyed the smack.
*sits around apathetically*
I think I'll go back to the Shire before this whole pop band thing.. happens. Or something. Watch out, fools. |
|
| |
|
Read 7 - Post |
| |
|
|
|
nostalgic