It's the first real day of classes and I'm more than a little groggy from the weed that will never be told that I actually smoke. I'm an extremely rich white bitch; what else would I do? I fall out of bed and get dressed: highly hemmed skirt, no gray sweater, tie loose, and blouse unbuttoned down to my bra. I somehow get away with this because everyone loves me. I was created that way. If there's one complaint I have about my body, it's that my boobs are too big. I'm a 20DD and they are soo not optimal for aerodynamics. So, I stumble into the Hall for breakfast. Next to the Hufflepuff table, I trip over a spoon and fall, yet still retain all my eminating grace and dignity. Since I'm soo popular, boys flock to my aid. I grabbed the spoon that I had tripped over as the boys help me up, straightening my clothes and my delicate yet undamaged wings. I look up at the Hufflepuff in front of me and poke him with the spoon. He squeaks. I giggle. I poke him with the spoon again. He squeaks. I giggle. I try it on other Hufflepuffs. I'm rather amused. But apparently I'm not supposed to do this. So I stop and suddenly realize I'm surrounded by a bunch of yellow and black stripedy things. "BEES! BEES!" The poor little Hufflepuffs start to panic. Then I realize that it's just their house colors. "Ha Ha! Your colors make you look like you are covered in bees!" They go dejectedly back to their table (but of course, they still love me; everyone loves me). "Bees.. Bees... Bees... Hm. Reminds me of 'b'... Now I know what I'm thinking! Pythagorean Theory: (b (+ or -) square root of (b2 - 4ac)) / 2a!! Relish in my smartness and beauty!" Harry Potter runs up to me and kneals, "Oh, Ty! Please let me abandon all I know and love, ignore my beliefs, and defy every ounce of my sensibility and nature to be your boyfriend in a relationship showered in love and plenty and snogging and would never in a million years have happened had I any say in what this maniac of a writer is typing!!" I smile, slow-motion glitteryness enhancing my beautiful skin and sparkling eyes... "Okay." We hold hands, snogging as we walk, as we go to Care of Magical Creatures class, even though Harry and I don't really have this course this year. As Hagrid brings out a Lobalug, I break out into an Australian accent: "Now, here we have the dangerous Lobalug. It is native to the North Sea. When it feels threatened, it shoots out a spray of poison at it's attacker. It is also used by Merpeople as a weapon." I go up to it and reach out to touch it. "This sea-cucumber-like creature is VERY dangerous. You should NEVER even get near one!" It sprays me with poison. But in my eminent grace, I cast a spell to block it. Harry swoons. "That was close oh-beloved-i'm-compelled-to-adore-even-though-you're-waaay-too-boring-and-over-rated." I beam, my teeth a bright as an overly-amazing analogy I don't feel like thinking up. "I know. I'm amazing." Hagrid shakes his head dissappointedly. "You shouldn't make fun of him so soon after he's died. It's tactless. You fail the course for being a stupid bitch." "Will you pass me if I sleep with you?" "Okay, but bring your extra credit project for Herbology."
requesting dirty jokes about olive wood's name. i already have a few, but i'd like to get y'all involved in this as well ;P and don't worry, you'll get credit for your jokes