Maisie Cattermole

I need to brush my brain out with hardcore soap. I just walked in on my SODDING MANAGER and his damn SECRETARY. I mean they've been making googly eyes at each other for AGES, but NO ONE should see Phil Deverill starkers. NO ONE. It's dangerous to your health or something. I will never sleep again. Forever haunted by the picture etched into my retinas.

Still don't know which is creepier that or the fact that that eight billion year old muggle woman had a baby.

No, Philly boy starkers. Definitely.

So which one of my lovely, adoring friends has a sofa for me for the next couple of days? The landlord has to get rid of doxies, or he will when we find the wanker.

Those little devils tried to gnaw off my bloody fingers when I tried to open my curtains.

Between this and Parsons' outburst it makes me want to move. I mean it's a turtle. How bloody far could it get? It's not like that animal is a stairs effecianado.

It should be a damn CRIME for a person to not be able to sleep and be as bored as I am right now.

There once was a man from Madrass
Whose balls were made out of brass
When he'd bang 'em together
They'd play stormy weather
And lightning would shoot out of his ass.

When asked to do something salacious,
She answered, "Of course not! Good gracious!"
But the sight of his tool
So induced her to drool
That her view, in the end, proved fellatious.


The problem is when I'm tired I just get way more easily amused than I normally am, which isn't conductive to actually relaxing enough to actually sleep.

Vicious cycle that.

I didn't get to play yesterday.

After a day of recovering from a night of drunken quidditch celebrations, I've given a bit of thought about my favorite holiday of the holiday season. New Years.

Christmas is awesome and all. I mean, presents and shit are awesome. I love them. So I'd like to thank everyone for my gifts. Really they were brilliant.

But New Year's Eve is special. I mean some would say it's all about the renewing the cycle and a new beginnings and all that jazz, which is cool and all. I just concentrate on the drinking and partying aspect of it all.

So who's doing what then?

( Private to Wendy and Ginny )

I've finished my Christmas shopping. I have to admit that the swans look really pretty from the safety of my flat. Heard they're bitches though. I can see that.

Luna, I just wanted to thank you because I settled on the name Snitch. I wanted something to do with quidditch and the kitten just runs around and plays with everything. I love him.

Secondly and more importantly. The pipers? FUCKING ANNOYING. I'm so bloody tired of this racket that I'm really close to taking off to my mum and dad's if it keeps on tomorrow. Especially considering Darin buggered off the his brother's for the next few days. Good riddance, wanker. He won't see me try to assault a piper with their pipe, which could be a sodding terrifying thing to witness.

I just need one of my lovely friends to promise they'd scoop me up, pay bail or whatnot, if I did, and then take me out to get wasted to dampen the pain of living through this.

And here I was planning to make dinner for some people Darin's temper tantrum will NOT ruin my plans, but now I've got the biggest headache ever. So whoever brings copious amounts of booze gets to hang out with me for the evening.

Tomorrow night I'm getting a kitten. Name ideas? I'm seriously leaning towards Kennilworthy Whisp.

I just know it's a boy cat. If it was a girl cat, I'd be torn between Gertie Keddle (the woman who recorded the first form of quidditch down in her diary even if she thought it was a huge nuisance going on in the vacant lot next to her property) and Gwenog Jones. Seriously, I know she's on an opposing team, but there's something glorious about the fact that while watching her play it's apparent that opposing team members are scared shitless. They act like she's some horrendous she-bitch ready to decapitate them. Fuck, she's my IDOL.

But, yeah, Kennilworthy Whisp.

( Hexed private to Oliver Wood, Ginny Weasley, Graham Pritchard, and Liz Spinks. )

( Hexed private to Harry Potter )

I read in the paper that the ministry caught the moronic asshole who sent up the Dark Mark. I can't be the only one hoping that his pecker is slowly chewed off by some vermin while he's cowering in his jail cell, right?

Fucking wanker.

Seriously, what the hell people? Whose dumb head would think that's a good idea at all?

Ellie, what are you thinking of getting mum and dad for Christmas, and if I pay half can I slap my name on it too? I'm rubbish with gifts and stuff.