This is getting weirder by the minute.
I have decided that Hogwarts is the holiest place on the planet. As long as you can sleep, and as much toast as you can eat.
Mind you - I don't exactly want to eat too much - being clinically obese would NOT repeat NOT be fun. Although the food is heavenly...
We get to poo on the floor! I think it's fantastic! None of this rubbish with clean cages - just good old go when you need to. Downside is if you are below another owl. Upside is I have a perch on the very top rafter. The smell from it is truly sublime.
Mortster and I have joined a club! It's called Artemis' Dudes. It's a hunting club - and we get free run of the ENTIRE grounds on Thursdays and Sundays. That's like - a million billion acres. Or more!!
Speaking of the Mortster Machine - he is so unbelivably fit. But we're like, best of friends - and I don't think he would ever consider me as more than that. He doesn't seem to like anyone else - but he just seems to be going thrugh a dry phase in the hormone bank.
AAAAHHHHH!! It's confusing. I can't tell if he'd like me more than that, because all the signalls are 100 mixed up, and I'm confused!
But I don't like thinking about that. It bothers me.
Despite my wanting to kill Harry - I made my first delivery the other day! I was very proud. Granted, it was a grubby scrap of a note from that man who is definately more than clinically obese - but it gave me a reason to go down to breakfast. Mort gets to go like every week - it's not fair. We have 'arguements' about this. He says it's because Draco's family care about him, and I say Harry has no family to care about him.
Normally Morty-baby and I get on well. We have formed a secret union to be sworn enemies against the droopy duster whom everyone knows as Errol. Honestly, he is useless! The day he does something right will be the day I stuff my head up my butt.
Whenever I go down to breakfast (mainly to eat Harry's toast - it's somehow slightly more satisfying than the toast we're given.) I notice that he is sitting with one of the red people from the train station, and a bush-head girl. Harry was polite enough to introduce us. Carrothead's actual name is Ronald, and frisster's actual name is Hermione.
Their parents must have been drunk when thay decided on those names. I feel really sorry for - oh god I can't bring myself to say it again - oh, dear god! Those names are quite frankly disgusting. I nominate them puke-worthy.
There is something twisted going on with those three - because whenever I stop to watch them, they're all sending odd signals to each other. I think it might be a weird bi-sexual twist to a spasticated love triangal.
But hell, that's just me. Who knows? Owl signals might be different from human ones.
I have decided that Hogwarts is the holiest place on the planet. As long as you can sleep, and as much toast as you can eat.
Mind you - I don't exactly want to eat too much - being clinically obese would NOT repeat NOT be fun. Although the food is heavenly...
We get to poo on the floor! I think it's fantastic! None of this rubbish with clean cages - just good old go when you need to. Downside is if you are below another owl. Upside is I have a perch on the very top rafter. The smell from it is truly sublime.
Mortster and I have joined a club! It's called Artemis' Dudes. It's a hunting club - and we get free run of the ENTIRE grounds on Thursdays and Sundays. That's like - a million billion acres. Or more!!
Speaking of the Mortster Machine - he is so unbelivably fit. But we're like, best of friends - and I don't think he would ever consider me as more than that. He doesn't seem to like anyone else - but he just seems to be going thrugh a dry phase in the hormone bank.
AAAAHHHHH!! It's confusing. I can't tell if he'd like me more than that, because all the signalls are 100 mixed up, and I'm confused!
But I don't like thinking about that. It bothers me.
Despite my wanting to kill Harry - I made my first delivery the other day! I was very proud. Granted, it was a grubby scrap of a note from that man who is definately more than clinically obese - but it gave me a reason to go down to breakfast. Mort gets to go like every week - it's not fair. We have 'arguements' about this. He says it's because Draco's family care about him, and I say Harry has no family to care about him.
Normally Morty-baby and I get on well. We have formed a secret union to be sworn enemies against the droopy duster whom everyone knows as Errol. Honestly, he is useless! The day he does something right will be the day I stuff my head up my butt.
Whenever I go down to breakfast (mainly to eat Harry's toast - it's somehow slightly more satisfying than the toast we're given.) I notice that he is sitting with one of the red people from the train station, and a bush-head girl. Harry was polite enough to introduce us. Carrothead's actual name is Ronald, and frisster's actual name is Hermione.
Their parents must have been drunk when thay decided on those names. I feel really sorry for - oh god I can't bring myself to say it again - oh, dear god! Those names are quite frankly disgusting. I nominate them puke-worthy.
There is something twisted going on with those three - because whenever I stop to watch them, they're all sending odd signals to each other. I think it might be a weird bi-sexual twist to a spasticated love triangal.
But hell, that's just me. Who knows? Owl signals might be different from human ones.