Notes From A Horny Potions Master: Severus Snape.
Hogwarts School of
Witchcraft and Wizardry.
A New Year starts. (Another awful year like all the rest, might I add)
This year I didn't have the DADA position again. Blast Dumbledore. Of course Quirrell had it. That freking, Troll-Loving bastard... Trollphile - hehe... But Quirrel's strange sexual taste is something I'd rather not discuss.
Of course I knew he was still at Voldermort side. St- stu- stupid freak! And he wanted to share the... responsability - ha! Like I would like to have the ugly *slythering* thing sticked up my arse.. Because, how did you think Voldie entered his 'shared-body'? Ught... Not happening...
This year James Potter's son entered; the Fuc--** Boy Who 'Lived' - 'lived' for me to torture!
Well, he is surely not going to live this year! Bwajajajaa!!!-- Oh, shit! I forgot that I MUST make him survive (damned SnapCards-Game Debt! Well, it was either *that* or my virginity - to James-bloddy-Potter -, can you blame?)... Ow! Spoil sport...
I don't have greasy hair! It's Elvis jelly style! How can't students make the differences?!
Ronald Weasley is getting on my nerves. Specially because of his flaming red hair which makes me blind! I can't see my students!! I stare blankly at everyone and have to act like I'm not annoyed at everything! Of course, I make a very good job. **BUT!** Just what I needed: another damned annoying Weasley! Damned Weasleys and their reproductive... 'system'...
Very nice work, Mister Malfoy. No, not Lucius... I wish *sigh*. His son, Draco, is my student *too*. So many memories... he's just like his father.... He has the same nice hands, and ass.... Not that I fancy my students' ass, mind you.
Yes, I know I 'pet' (hehe) my students and torture the others, specially Gryffindors. I mean, the gigling Parkinson was unbearable, but the know-it-alls makes me nervous (every thime I meet one I feel urged to trow them a paper glass with a muggle drink called coke, I don't know why). But it's just that these hypocrite little McGonnamad's puppets feel like 'oh, so popular' 'oh, so *bloody* loved by everyone' 'oh, so brave like brave lions!'... makes me sick... you can bloody well lick my *serpent*, bloody lion!!
Oh, and Potter is pissing me off. The spoiled brat keeps showing off his scar like it's such a big deal! And the worst thing is that that very same first day my vibrator broke down. It's a tragedy! It has two crooked edges, like a bolt of light! The boy's *bloody* scar makes me remember about my broken vibrator!! -- Every time I look at him! I see the ghost of my broken vibrator!!
I miss my vibrator...
Dumbledore invited me to play with his sock-made puppets. Ha, then he's upset 'cause he have not enough socks for winter (Always complaining that he never gets enough (well, that's an understandment...) socks! on +mas) and barely gets out 'cause he says his *most delicate part of his body* may freez... I wonder which is the use he has for his socks, actually... Or what's wrong with his -
I am not buying the man new socks this year! That's final!
Dumbledore is a Mad-man.
Quidditch, stupid little excuse for a sport. Potter is the star again; Gryffindor new seeker. I disapproved, like the responsible and caring teacher that I am, that so young student was allowed to fly. But no one listen to old, good Snape. He boy rides pretty good his broom. I agree he is a natural... hehe... hehehee... HAHAHAHAHAHAA!! No, really, he mounts pretty good... hehe... like the broom was an extension of his body--- AAAHHH!! SOMEBODY STOP ME!!!!
I also protested about the Quidditch uniforms. Too tight pant; ARE WE TRYING TO KILL OUR STUDENT FROM ASPHYXIATION?? And they look like porn stars from a play-witch magazine... Oh, yeah, and the girls looks pretty sluts too.
It was hilarious, Potter hanging from that flying stick... hanging from a stick.. mhn... *shudder* away, away bloody thoughts... *bloody* Quidditch tight pants... I really shouldn't have been staring to a 11-year-old brat, I know!! --- mmh... not that I cared about staring a little longer, if only that Quirrel bastard... Well, the thing was that Quirrel started to hum this bloody song 'I have a lovely bunch of coconuts' or something like that and it started to get on my nerves. Bloody freak. So I started to sing another song louder, so that I couldn't hear him any more (the name was something like 'Forbiden Love' and was something like 'I feel pretty. Oh, so pretty. I feel preety and witty, and -', well, you get the idea). And he got higher, me too, and next we both were singing at the top of our lungs. I was about to start dancing - if it wasn't for the fact of being setted fire... Oh, yeah, bab! I'M ON FIRE! (well, in the end, I did dance a little...)
A troll. When Quirrel squeezed in that high, annoying voice that a full-grown troll was in the school the first thing I thought was 'Too up this ass'. (I admit Voldie was a very pleasing master: the most lawful his follower were... well, we looked like a 'screwing-ourselves-up- the-best-we-can' cult.) It turned out to be true. So I figured out it was the troll's work that cause that unnerving high-pitched sound. Poor little bastard... not that I care, really.
Oh, yeah, Potter took on(!) the moutain troll. He and the Weasley boy said they were there to help Granger big-head out of a mess she let herself into. Ha! Please, can't anyone notice the *improbability* of that?! It's much more likely that they thought of the alert-state as a good moment for a threesome-- Now, I understand why all liked believing Granger's story. Ught... some are some perverts, this generation...
More Quidditch. I offered myself to be the refferi in Gryffindor vs Slytherin match.. hehe. Good thing I'd not have to hear Quirrel sickening singing! At least I had a very *nice* view. But, of course, nothing is perfect... after the Potter boy had the brilliant idea of nearly knocking me off MY broomstick (hehe) I really have a HARD time in my HARD broomstick-- no, really! I squeeze little Snape and now I'm in such a PAIN! Not to mension that being HARD doesn't help...
Blast the kid, he shouldn't be THAT hot.
Quirrel keeps stalking me. So I shoved him to some bushes in the forest and made myself clear: ONE MORE WORD AND I´LL GET THAT SLITHERING THING OUT YOUR BUTT BY CIURGERY WITH MY BARE HANDS!!... imagine the answer...
'Don't you dare touch my GERBIL, Severus!'
---------------------------------------------- Ught...
Even in my depest, wildest, more imposible dreams I'd Never *ever* THINK about *THAT*... That mirror of Erisen must be working faulty. Only a malfunction can explain such prophanity; the cause of the images that are tormenting and corrupting my (not anymore)sane and innocent mind right now. Really, the impobability of that! The sick, sick, sicksicksicksick sickening SICK improbability of THAT!
I'D NEVER BE IN A TREESOME WITH HAGRID AND FLITWICH!! EVER!!!!!!
And that's it! That thing cannot stay a minute longer! That mirror is OUT of my cuarters immidiately--- first thing on the morning... of course, Albus, you can get it on Sunday-- or Monday...
Don't you feel sick about happy endings? And the shitty reality that a stupid STUDENT resolved my logic problem about poisining::: BLOODY KNOW-IT-ALL GRANGER!!! I SWEAR, if it wasn't for her looney ASS the Potter-wonder and the miracle-of-flaming-light would be poisoned by MY HANDS... And the beauty of it would be that IT WOULD BE THEIR FAULTS (for defianing GREAT SEVERUS SNAPE!)-- but NOOOO... *sniff, sniff* And to make matters worst... McGoonasluty *convinced*, somehow, Dumbledore about *changing colors*... so, yes, Griffindors Won.
I'm so depressed.
Hogwarts School of
Witchcraft and Wizardry.
A New Year starts. (Another awful year like all the rest, might I add)
This year I didn't have the DADA position again. Blast Dumbledore. Of course Quirrell had it. That freking, Troll-Loving bastard... Trollphile - hehe... But Quirrel's strange sexual taste is something I'd rather not discuss.
Of course I knew he was still at Voldermort side. St- stu- stupid freak! And he wanted to share the... responsability - ha! Like I would like to have the ugly *slythering* thing sticked up my arse.. Because, how did you think Voldie entered his 'shared-body'? Ught... Not happening...
This year James Potter's son entered; the Fuc--** Boy Who 'Lived' - 'lived' for me to torture!
Well, he is surely not going to live this year! Bwajajajaa!!!-- Oh, shit! I forgot that I MUST make him survive (damned SnapCards-Game Debt! Well, it was either *that* or my virginity - to James-bloddy-Potter -, can you blame?)... Ow! Spoil sport...
I don't have greasy hair! It's Elvis jelly style! How can't students make the differences?!
Ronald Weasley is getting on my nerves. Specially because of his flaming red hair which makes me blind! I can't see my students!! I stare blankly at everyone and have to act like I'm not annoyed at everything! Of course, I make a very good job. **BUT!** Just what I needed: another damned annoying Weasley! Damned Weasleys and their reproductive... 'system'...
Very nice work, Mister Malfoy. No, not Lucius... I wish *sigh*. His son, Draco, is my student *too*. So many memories... he's just like his father.... He has the same nice hands, and ass.... Not that I fancy my students' ass, mind you.
Yes, I know I 'pet' (hehe) my students and torture the others, specially Gryffindors. I mean, the gigling Parkinson was unbearable, but the know-it-alls makes me nervous (every thime I meet one I feel urged to trow them a paper glass with a muggle drink called coke, I don't know why). But it's just that these hypocrite little McGonnamad's puppets feel like 'oh, so popular' 'oh, so *bloody* loved by everyone' 'oh, so brave like brave lions!'... makes me sick... you can bloody well lick my *serpent*, bloody lion!!
Oh, and Potter is pissing me off. The spoiled brat keeps showing off his scar like it's such a big deal! And the worst thing is that that very same first day my vibrator broke down. It's a tragedy! It has two crooked edges, like a bolt of light! The boy's *bloody* scar makes me remember about my broken vibrator!! -- Every time I look at him! I see the ghost of my broken vibrator!!
I miss my vibrator...
Dumbledore invited me to play with his sock-made puppets. Ha, then he's upset 'cause he have not enough socks for winter (Always complaining that he never gets enough (well, that's an understandment...) socks! on +mas) and barely gets out 'cause he says his *most delicate part of his body* may freez... I wonder which is the use he has for his socks, actually... Or what's wrong with his -
I am not buying the man new socks this year! That's final!
Dumbledore is a Mad-man.
Quidditch, stupid little excuse for a sport. Potter is the star again; Gryffindor new seeker. I disapproved, like the responsible and caring teacher that I am, that so young student was allowed to fly. But no one listen to old, good Snape. He boy rides pretty good his broom. I agree he is a natural... hehe... hehehee... HAHAHAHAHAHAA!! No, really, he mounts pretty good... hehe... like the broom was an extension of his body--- AAAHHH!! SOMEBODY STOP ME!!!!
I also protested about the Quidditch uniforms. Too tight pant; ARE WE TRYING TO KILL OUR STUDENT FROM ASPHYXIATION?? And they look like porn stars from a play-witch magazine... Oh, yeah, and the girls looks pretty sluts too.
It was hilarious, Potter hanging from that flying stick... hanging from a stick.. mhn... *shudder* away, away bloody thoughts... *bloody* Quidditch tight pants... I really shouldn't have been staring to a 11-year-old brat, I know!! --- mmh... not that I cared about staring a little longer, if only that Quirrel bastard... Well, the thing was that Quirrel started to hum this bloody song 'I have a lovely bunch of coconuts' or something like that and it started to get on my nerves. Bloody freak. So I started to sing another song louder, so that I couldn't hear him any more (the name was something like 'Forbiden Love' and was something like 'I feel pretty. Oh, so pretty. I feel preety and witty, and -', well, you get the idea). And he got higher, me too, and next we both were singing at the top of our lungs. I was about to start dancing - if it wasn't for the fact of being setted fire... Oh, yeah, bab! I'M ON FIRE! (well, in the end, I did dance a little...)
A troll. When Quirrel squeezed in that high, annoying voice that a full-grown troll was in the school the first thing I thought was 'Too up this ass'. (I admit Voldie was a very pleasing master: the most lawful his follower were... well, we looked like a 'screwing-ourselves-up- the-best-we-can' cult.) It turned out to be true. So I figured out it was the troll's work that cause that unnerving high-pitched sound. Poor little bastard... not that I care, really.
Oh, yeah, Potter took on(!) the moutain troll. He and the Weasley boy said they were there to help Granger big-head out of a mess she let herself into. Ha! Please, can't anyone notice the *improbability* of that?! It's much more likely that they thought of the alert-state as a good moment for a threesome-- Now, I understand why all liked believing Granger's story. Ught... some are some perverts, this generation...
More Quidditch. I offered myself to be the refferi in Gryffindor vs Slytherin match.. hehe. Good thing I'd not have to hear Quirrel sickening singing! At least I had a very *nice* view. But, of course, nothing is perfect... after the Potter boy had the brilliant idea of nearly knocking me off MY broomstick (hehe) I really have a HARD time in my HARD broomstick-- no, really! I squeeze little Snape and now I'm in such a PAIN! Not to mension that being HARD doesn't help...
Blast the kid, he shouldn't be THAT hot.
Quirrel keeps stalking me. So I shoved him to some bushes in the forest and made myself clear: ONE MORE WORD AND I´LL GET THAT SLITHERING THING OUT YOUR BUTT BY CIURGERY WITH MY BARE HANDS!!... imagine the answer...
'Don't you dare touch my GERBIL, Severus!'
---------------------------------------------- Ught...
Even in my depest, wildest, more imposible dreams I'd Never *ever* THINK about *THAT*... That mirror of Erisen must be working faulty. Only a malfunction can explain such prophanity; the cause of the images that are tormenting and corrupting my (not anymore)sane and innocent mind right now. Really, the impobability of that! The sick, sick, sicksicksicksick sickening SICK improbability of THAT!
I'D NEVER BE IN A TREESOME WITH HAGRID AND FLITWICH!! EVER!!!!!!
And that's it! That thing cannot stay a minute longer! That mirror is OUT of my cuarters immidiately--- first thing on the morning... of course, Albus, you can get it on Sunday-- or Monday...
Don't you feel sick about happy endings? And the shitty reality that a stupid STUDENT resolved my logic problem about poisining::: BLOODY KNOW-IT-ALL GRANGER!!! I SWEAR, if it wasn't for her looney ASS the Potter-wonder and the miracle-of-flaming-light would be poisoned by MY HANDS... And the beauty of it would be that IT WOULD BE THEIR FAULTS (for defianing GREAT SEVERUS SNAPE!)-- but NOOOO... *sniff, sniff* And to make matters worst... McGoonasluty *convinced*, somehow, Dumbledore about *changing colors*... so, yes, Griffindors Won.
I'm so depressed.