| Locked to Roger. |
[13 Sep 2009|02:20am] |
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So I might possibly have a job. In Mexico.
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| Locked to Roger. |
[07 Sep 2009|01:34pm] |
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Maybe this house-warming party wasn't the best of my ideas..
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| Locked to Roger. |
[02 Sep 2009|01:10am] |
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I need to get irresponsibly wasted.
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[29 Aug 2009|01:55am] |
Wondering how hard it would be to apply for citizenship in Luxembourg.
Because unless the Prophet's next headline reads "JUST KIDDING" then I've completely lost faith in our 'acting' Minister for Magic. Even if it's just a governmental formality or an attempt to be politically correct, it's still pushing the boundaries and going just a bit too far. Laws exist for a fucking reason: you do the crime, you pay the time.
Shacklebolt, I hope you're slamming that thick, hideously balding skull into the wall right about now. That, or congratulating yourself on being the Ministry's biggest fucking mistake.
(Private)
My pop asks for a fucking trial and ends up in an urn above the chimney piece. Greyback dons dress robes and plays the part of the mild-mannered dog in front of the entire Wizengamot and gets a pat on his useless fucking head.
I fucking HATE this stupid country. Or the idiots that run it, anyway. After Bagnold left office, everything just sunk to fucking hell.
(/Private)
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| Locked to Roger. |
[22 Aug 2009|02:26pm] |
I don't necessarily have it in writing yet, but I think it's safe to say that I'll soon be an official first-time property owner.
So, are you coming with me or not?
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[14 Aug 2009|01:34pm] |
To anyone employment desperate:
Effective at 9PM, August the 14th, I will no longer preside over the management of Quality Quidditch Supplies. One of my full-timers is clinging to the hope that me leaving the store automatically guarantees him the job, but the powers that be have decided on going through the formal applicant-and-interview process. You don't even need to necessarily like Quidditch (though I wouldn't recommend admitting it) - just a knack for budgeting, lots of tedious paper work, and the ability to learn the specs of a new product inside and out. A thankless job, but the starting pay is surprisingly well when you consider the size of the store (though that doesn't necessarily reflect our sales, mind you). And depending upon your progress, your paycheck has room to grow. Anyone interested should contact the store's soon-to-be acting manager, Rufus Winterbottom.
( Hexed Private to Roger. )
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| Locked to Roger. |
[08 Aug 2009|01:37pm] |
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Bold move.
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| Locked to Roger. |
[04 Aug 2009|11:37pm] |
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I'm going to an open house in South Kensington this Saturday. Interested in tagging along?
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[31 Jul 2009|08:41pm] |
To-do list:
• Draft a fun, lengthy letter of resignation and hand it in to Winterbottom. (Trust-fund dividends are a BEAUTIFUL thing.)
• Meet with Gringott's loan consultant on Saturday, August 1.
• Blahblahblah, prequalification, mortgage application, other stupid legalities.
• Find a realtor who isn't in the market to fuck me over.
• Buy a fucking house.
No more neighbors, no more loud shitty house parties, no more rent, no more forced proximity to other people and LAST BUT NOT LEAST -
NO MORE FUCKING ABANDONED CATS SITTING AROUND MY GODDAMNED STOOP, LOOKING ALL PATHETIC AND RUBBING AGAINST MY ANKLES IN AN ATTEMPT TO GET A HANDOUT.
Hexed Private to Roger:
Did you drop off the face of the planet? You've been gone for three days.
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| Locked to Roger. |
[28 Jul 2009|11:19pm] |
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Did you read the listings I left out on the table for you this morning?
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[26 Jul 2009|02:54pm] |
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When did I become the resident voice of reason?
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| Locked to Marcus, the douchebag. |
[20 Jul 2009|06:27pm] |
Where's the nearest long, winding stairwell?
I CAN MAKE IT LOOK LIKE AN ACCIDENT.
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| Scribbled hastily at work and viewable only to Marcus Flint. |
[14 Jul 2009|06:24pm] |
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[12 Jul 2009|05:34pm] |
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I'm leaving for Heidelberg in five days. With that said, who wants to make easy money for the week that I'm gone?? Desperate moochers named Roger Davies need not apply.
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[09 Jul 2009|12:48am] |
No,
I'M THE LUCKIEST MAN ALIVE.
Me.
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[05 Jul 2009|12:46am] |
IT'S PEW-CEE, NOT PUSSY.
HOW FUCKING DIFFICULT IS THAT, REALLY??
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[27 Jun 2009|10:17pm] |
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Gran's desire to have great-grandchildren resurfaced in a conversation we had earlier today. The first time she mentioned this to me, she said she'd be happy with two. This number has since then been bumped up to eight, and now ten.
ALICIA, YOUR PRIME IS NOW. If Gran wants to see them all before she's popped her clogs, then we'd better get fucking started.
No pun intended.
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[24 Jun 2009|04:21pm] |
Personally, I've always thought traditional burials were stupid, anyway. Needlessly expensive. Gran had dad cremated. We keep his urn on top of the chimney piece. Saves time. Saves money. Saves space.
I accidentally knocked it over once. She wouldn't even look at me for a fucking week.
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[22 Jun 2009|02:49pm] |
To honour the latest journaling trend:
CATS CATS CATSSSSSS FELIS CATUS SILVESTRIS
I think I might have curb stomped a cat when I was five. The memory's fuzzy. That, or I atleast witnessed it.
End.
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