• 8Jun 08

  Harry Potter is disgusting

  Purely in the interests of science, I have replaced the word "wand" with "wang" in the first Harry Potter Book
  Let's see the results...
  
  "Why aren't you supposed to do magic?" asked Harry.
  "Oh, well -- I was at Hogwarts meself but I -- er -- got expelled, ter tell yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wang in half an' everything
  
  A magic wang... this was what Harry had been really looking forward to.
  
  "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter." It wasn't a question. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wang. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wang for charm work."
  "Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wang. Eleven inches. "
  
  Harry took the wang. He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. He raised the wang above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls
  
  "Oh, move over," Hermione snarled. She grabbed Harry's wang, tapped the lock, and whispered, 'Alohomora!"

  The troll couldn't feel Harry hanging there, but even a troll will notice if you stick a long bit of wood up its nose, and Harry's wang had still been in his hand when he'd jumped - it had gone straight up one of the troll's nostrils.
  
  He bent down and pulled his wang out of the troll's nose. It was covered in what looked like lumpy gray glue.
  
  He ran onto the field as you fell, waved his wang, and you sort of slowed down before you hit the ground. Then he whirled his wang at the dementors. Shot silver stuff at them.
  
  Ok
  I have found, definitive proof
  that J.K Rowling is a dirty DIRTY woman, making a fool of us all
  "Yes," Harry said, gripping his wang very tightly, and moving into the middle of the deserted ****oom. He tried to keep his mind on flying, but something else kept intruding.... Any second now, he might hear his mother again... but he shouldn't think that, or he would hear her again, and he didn't want to... or did he?
  Something silver-white, something enormous, erupted from the end of his wang
  Then, with a sigh, he raised his wang and prodded the silvery substance with its tip.
  'Get - off - me!' Harry gasped. For a few seconds they struggled, Harry pulling at his uncles sausage-like fingers with his left hand, his right maintaining a firm grip on his raised wang.

  • Posted Jun 8, 2008 6:07 pm PT
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• 9Apr 08

  I had a very strange dream (*update...)

  I dreamt that me, my friend and some kid in my biology class, who, quite frankly, creeps me the f*ck out (he tried to kill his mom once, made more disturbing by the fact that he told me this out of the blue) [dream starts here] were sitting on a shag carpet in the middle of what appeared to be a HL 2 multiplayer map of some sort(with full computer graphics, of course, which somehow made sense at the time). I forgot the context, but he (creepy kid) whips out a pistol and shoots my friend in the head, starts laughing, then shoots himself. I wake up, shiver, and take a walk downstairs and go out into my backyard, only to realize I'm being followed by several ducks, dogs and a parrot, who all seem to be speaking to me in english, though for some reason I can't understand them(yeah, I know)It starts to rain.[dream ends here]. And then I wake up for real. My description doesnt really do justice to the bizzareness of my this dream, what do you think it means?

  *UPDATE: Me and a bunch of other kids (including him, Brandon is his name) were waiting for the bus as usual, and Brandon started making small talk with me, hes kind of socially awkward, but he seemed nice enough. He told me though, that his grandpa died and he inherited two old revolvers from him. Damn...

  • Posted Apr 9, 2008 7:00 pm PT
  • Category: Other
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• 18Apr 07

  Some Random Lines

  Amazing what pops into my head at 1:00

  I sat on the cleverly dressed cat, unknowing of his apprenticeship to mr.clock, and the mysterious drowning elf clan. Little did I know, I would soon eat a pillow. And it tasted bad.

  What kind of pie is that? Why its none other than our friend Mr. smith, though I do wish you'd stop eating it, or its off to the quilt factory tommorow!

  Say goodnight to the kids, there off to there drowning lessons tommorow, and what pupils they are!

  • Posted Apr 18, 2007 9:02 am PT
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