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A plea
I am watching what is probably the most boring documentary ever created which disputes the fact that Pluto is a planet. Interesting subject, one would think, right? Oh, no. No, no, no. They worked at making this boring. Hard. Like trying to break a diamond in half with a sugar cube hard.
So, okay, this is my request to anyone who, you know, pays attention to this bloggish thing I have here: write me a drabble, write me a pornlet, prompt me, ask me unanswerable questions, tell me about your day, anything at all that you wanna say, say it here--do it anonymously if you must!
Just, please, entertain me, for the love of all things natural. I'll bake you cookies or perform sexual favors on command!
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Second, I'll prompt you for whenever you feel like it,
Hagrid talks to Draco about how was Lucius as student :D
How about some Barry Trotter?
...Lon Measley, Barry's boon companion, was indeed good-for-nothing. Or very little, at least. He had suffered a tragic Quiddit accident during fifth year - a Basher had whiffed on a Brainer, causing it to lodge in Lon's noggin at great speed. All attempts to remove the ball had caused it to work its way in further; it finally came out the other side, so that Lon's head had a peephole pushed through it about the size of a one-pound coin. (When the wind hit it just right, it whistled.) Nurse Pommefritte had jerry-rigged him a new brain, using the barely-adequate faculties of a hastily-euthanised golden retriever. Lon was left with the capacities of a dim, good-natured seven year-old, and some definate canine tendencies. He also chased cars. On the other hand, he was extremely loyal.
"Trotter-"
Barry and Lon stopped, and the door swung shut. Barry panted, "Professor, I just want you to know that I was interviewing all those girls for the school newspaper."
Bumblemore turned. He looked very fed up. "Trotter, you know very well we don't ahve a school paper, and if Muddle girls have the bad judgement to let you within 50 feet of them, they deserve what they get. This is altogether more serious. Come over to the window."
The pair looked down at the chanting, moshing mass of mud-covered Muddledom. There were thousands of them, and not a Porta-Potty in sight. The smell was almost visible, like heat coming off a road.
"Look at these muttonheads. It's like a bloody Renaissance Faire down there," Bumblemore grumbled. "Do you know I had to deliver a baby this morning? Very messy business, Muddle birth. They named it Barry, of course. I was so appalled I nearly threw up on it."
...Quick as a flash, Bumblemore licked his thumb, raised Barry's fringe and rubbed the scar on his forehead. The mark, in the shape of an Interrobang, was the result of Barry's battle with Lord Valumart while an infant. (In the Muddle world, the Interrobang is a failed piece of punctuation, half question mark, half exclamation point. As in, 'What the Hell was that?!' or 'I just ate WHAT?!' Being both chronically confused and easily excitable, Barry's mother felt an affinity with the Interrobang. Thus, Barry was marked with one). It was also his proof of wizarding greatness, and Bumblemore was convinced it was a mistake.
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- < http://www.parachutingtrees.co.uk/rushmore.htm >
- < http://www.stellaceleste.com/htm/knots/snakeknot.htm >
- < http://www.deepfriedkudzu.com/2005/12/make-your-own-soap.html >
- < http://www.jerrythefrogproductions.com/PiratesOfTheCaribbean.html >
- < http://matt.simerson.net/humor/college.shtml >
- < http://biboz.net/humor/peter-griffin.jpg >
I got more, if you need 'em.
And chocolate chip will be just fine. ;)
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*zen voice* Because we are never truly clean. No matter how you apply soap to your person, you can never truly remove the intrinsic dirtiness of human flesh. :D
Re: How about some Barry Trotter?
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Re: How about some Barry Trotter?
"Several of the hellhound's heads - those that weren't nipping each other's ears - tried to sniff Lon's bottom. Lon reciprocated."
Re: How about some Barry Trotter?
Re: How about some Barry Trotter?
Her kids usually do things like make her blouse invisible.
This one does make me laugh:
"The gobbet landed on a small, thin, bespectacled girl who sat crosslegged on a patch of dirt re-reading a worn copy of Barry Trotter and the Philosopher's Scone. (This book was released as Barry Trotter and the Magic Biscuit in America. As readers of the first book know, the Philosopher's Scone contained the Elixir of Life, making anyone who ate it immortal. This is not to be confused with the Elixir of Lust, which makes people immoral. Big difference. Anyway, the Pholosopher's Scone seemed like a great career opportunity to the evil Lord Valumart, who considered compound interest the only power greater than himself - gaining immortality gave the investment strategy 'buy and hold' a whole new meaning. Anyway, after Barry thwarted Valumart, Bumblemore locked the pastry in his desk. He meant to throw it out, but eventually a mouse got to it and became mmortal. The other mice logically proclaimed him the Messiah, and ever since, a dangerous cult had been growing inside the walls and wainscoting of Hogwash."
Re: How about some Barry Trotter?
The is completely awesome. It...sort of reminds me of Death of Rats from the Pratchett novels. :D
Re: How about some Barry Trotter?
"A boggart is a shape-shifter that takes on the form of your worst fear - personified as your least favourite actor."
Re: How about some Barry Trotter?
Re: How about some Barry Trotter?
Re: How about some Barry Trotter?
Re: How about some Barry Trotter?
Re: How about some Barry Trotter?
Re: How about some Barry Trotter?