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[Jun 29th, 11:33am] |
Oi. Look. If you happen to be out and recognize, say, a professional Quidditch player from what just so happens to be the top team in the league, and you decide you want an autograph to commemorate this momentous occasion in your life? Be bloody nice about it. Shoving a quill and a napkin into someone's face right as they're about to take a sip of their coffee is the wrong way. Really. Not only could you come perilously close to taking a professional Quidditch player's eye out- necessary sensory organ for playing the game, that- but in our society it's generally considered polite to introduce yourself before you, you know, shove things in faces. Plus, it helps with the whole who-to-make-the-autograph-out-to thing. Which is important, because without a proper introduction the object of your eager adulation miiiight just make out the autograph to "the rude bint who just almost took my eye out with her quill."
Just saying.
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[Jun 10th, 3:00pm] |
It's nearly Friday night and I'm not only bored, I'm planless. Who's going to help a lass out?
[Warded to Magpies]
OI, did you lot not see Entwhistle's idea, or what? I cannot cannot CANNOT be the only Magpie who wants some potting quods and all that. Bet we're best at that, too. Come on, I want to be the most-represented Prof Quid team at this shindig, yeah?
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[May 22nd, 12:18pm] |
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Hey lads, have any hand-strengthening exercise secrets you'd like to pass on? I don't want to get cramps from all these autographs I'm signing, hey-o.
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[May 21st, 8:16am] |
[Private to Alicia and Angelina]
Girls. Girls. Not to put too fine a point on it, but it has been AGES since I have bloody gotten any. I'm beginning to forget what snogging is like. And watching Ali and George all snoogly woogly isn't helping Graaah. A woman has needs!
Thoughts?
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[May 15th, 10:56am] |
Good game, girlies. Sixty points is nothing.
...well, it's enough that next time a certain roomie of mine threatens to try to convert my potential spawn to Harpydom I'm going to use it, but other than that it's nothing. Luck of the draw, my lasses. Chins up.
[Warded to Magpies]
Bullshite, obviously, but I hate seeing my Ali looking so down. In reality: Go us! We're bloody amazing.
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[May 12th, 9:24am] |
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Aaaargh weekend, get here already! I'm ready to Chase like I have NEVER CHASED BEFORE!
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[May 4th, 7:31am] |
Rain, rain, go away. Come again some other day. Little Katie wants to play.
I'm bored. Who's coming out tonight? And by 'tonight' I mean 'as soon as humanly possible.' I'm dying to get my dance on.
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[Apr 21st, 6:49pm] |
Ow. Ow. I'm a Chaser, for fuck's sake, how the hell does a Chaser pull both bloody hamstrings? Owwwww. It hurts to sit. Also to stand. Ow. Merlin. This is pre-Karma, right? I can have a great wollop of a selfish day now and the debt to the universe is already paid off, yes? Both hamstrings. Ow.
All right, all right. Sorry for the profanity. It's a bit hard to describe the pain of two pulled hamstrings without a few choice words. It actually helps with the pain. No really.
Hell, now I'm hungry. For ham. Merlin. Somebody make me a sandwich and I will give you my first born* if it ever comes about that I bear any at all.
*To babysit so I can have a day off. Ha! Always read the fine print, Rumpelstiltskin.
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