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08 February 1979 @ 02:11 pm
Work is dull, as per usual, but it’s especially dull after a weekend full of drunken carousing. Unfortunately, none of my esteemed customers are content to let me wallow in these doldrums properly. They all insist on loitering around the counter and boring me with Quidditch talk. I now loathe Quidditch fans even more, which I honestly didn’t think was possible. My own capacity for complete and utter revulsion is a constant surprise.

I also didn’t realise that Quidditch supplies could be trussed up for Valentines Day. Rest assured, though, they can. Actually, the whole Alley is looking appropriately tarty. It’s as if an army of fourteen-year-old girls swept in during the night and vomited pink streamers and cheap heart cutouts everywhere. There is an overabundance of cheap chocolate, though, which is tolerable (that reminds me, I ought to send Patty some so she doesn’t end up feeling depressed).

Lastly, my flatmate left for Aruba this morning. I don’t know why (it’s a bloody mystery, actually. What the fuck do matronly old witches need in Aruba?) but I do know that I will be spreading out my star charts tonight and no one will be around to whinge about it. Ha ha.
Marlene McKinnon: a rarity.anticlaw on September 10th, 2007 02:32 am (UTC)
Something I could buy legally at the corner market? Or something Fletcher has stuffed between the cushions of the couch?

I'm coming either way, I just need to know if there's anything I ought to prise out from inside the sofa to contribute.
Fabian Prewett: straight ahead to the new frontier!fabium on September 10th, 2007 02:34 am (UTC)
Oh, no, I'll come over — if that's okay? I promised Dung and all. And surely, surely he will provide. If I have to, I'll hug it out of him.
Marlene McKinnonanticlaw on September 10th, 2007 02:39 am (UTC)
Even better. Don't mind the sprogs loitering about near the door, either -- they're all hoping to learn how to roll a fag.