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[27 Mar 2009|12:56am] |
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Could someone please tell me how and why there is a naked picture of me on the front cover of Witch Weekly?!
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[13 Mar 2009|11:37pm] |
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I am cold. And wet. And my new leather coat is ruined. This has been a horrible day.
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[21 Oct 2008|03:47am] |
OOC: Pretend I posted this yesterday.
Thank God. They're finally releasing me from my captivity today and it's about damn time. I still don't remember anything from the last couple of months, but the Healers think at this stage that it might never come back to me. But that's depressing to think about, so I try not to.
As for the game today: I am so there. I'll only be sitting in the audience for now, of course. I am definitely not in shape to play yet. But that's what practice is for, right? Give me a couple of weeks and I'll be right back out there with the rest of you guys. But for today--GO FALCONS!
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[03 Oct 2008|02:08am] |
...
I woke up this morning at 3 AM and remembered my own name for the first time in weeks.
Fucking bugger-wank. What happened?
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[11 Jul 2008|11:59pm] |
I am in pain, but it is so, so worth it.
Congratulations, boys! I'm feeling an urge to break out in song, since "We Are The Champions"... But maybe that's the pain potions. And, with the broken jaw and all, I don't think I'm allowed to sing for at least a day or two yet. But oh well.
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[04 Jul 2008|10:29pm] |
Hexed AGAINST all rival Quidditch players:
God, I'm exhausted. My biceps have been pretty much numb for a couple weeks now. But it's worth it, one of the leading teams going into League Finals, hoorah! [/Hex]
( Private to Self )
Go Falcons! "Let us win, but if we cannot win, let us break a few heads!" But, you know, preferrably win.
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[19 May 2008|10:46pm] |
If I ever find out who set those fucking THINGS on us--Death. As in, I'm going to kill them. If I ever get out of this damn hospital room. Here is a record of how much my life sucks.
( Day I got bitten )
( Next day )
( Day after )
I just got out of the hospital this morning, went out to have breakfast and was then immediately rushed back for Hospital trip #4. Apparently, I've just developed a sudden allergy to strawberries. Which I didn't have last week. So having strawberry and cream covered pancakes (which is, by the way, my favourite breakfast) is now no longer allowed unless I want to continue swelling up like a purple balloon until I stop breathing.
I don't want to leave this hospital room until it's over. It's not safe out there. Mind you, if I stay in here, the whole building will probably burn down. So, if you even suspect that I care about you, please don't visit me. You're only going to get hurt.
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[30 Apr 2008|01:40am] |
Damn it.
For those who are interested, I'm in the hospital. Again. Partially crushed ribcage. Fairly easy to fix, but very painful. Wood, if you aren't dead and if you ever get around to reading this, you need to put your Beaters on a leash. And this is coming from a Falcon, so SERIOUSLY.
Oh, Lavender, darling, love of my life. You should come visit. I am so bored that it isn't funny. Though, I warn you, I'm also high tripping out taking some serious pain potions, so I may be a little... out of it.
Other people can come too. If you want.
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[22 Mar 2008|05:31am] |
So, we won the game. I'm glad. It'll give me something pleasant to think about as I lay here, stuck in this damn hospital bed. The Healers say I'm going to be here for days. My whole right side is pretty much smashed in. Lots of broken bones and a bunch of torn muscles. And, apparently, the muscles are going to take quite a while to heal properly if I want to stay in play on the team for the rest of the season. Damn the bloody Ginny Weasley I'm bored out of my skull already. Somebody visit and bring me a book or something, yeah?
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| Before Lavender's fashion show |
[20 Mar 2008|03:48am] |
Hexed to Marcus:
Flint, put something respectable on. I'm taking you to that fashion show at the Pepper Red Club. Don't you dare bitch about it, you're GOING, because I said you're going.
Think of it this way: Beautiful women strolling down a runway, quite possibly in revealing clothing, for the sole purpose of having you stare at them.
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