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T S and the Quest for a Horcrux

April 22, 2011

So, two observations from the weekend:

  • My sorrow giggle-juice inspired post got me the most views since last October! Yay American cultural values! Drama does sell! Call me up VH1. I have a working title, T S: Bombastic Love *subtitled* I’m a Slave 4 U.
  • Sangria and the Big Baby are not to be trusted.

Turns out in the real world when you send really rude texts messages filled with drunken spite and hatred express yourself, consequences are gained. So, for the time being (not sure when/if ever it will end) Goofy has banned me from Disneyland. Which is fine by me. But some all of my friends have season passes and have much more fun at theme parks than in my dorm fitted with Dementors at every entrance.

Look, MTV! I can even be overdramatic when using metaphors! Pick me!

So, I have been using this opportunity to branch out and invest more into the friends I probably should have made more of long ago. And I have more online friends now that I’ve never seen the face of than you could even dream about. So take that. I’m even international. Shout out to Adele in Wales. Ok, not the real one, but I swear she does live in Wales with an awesome accent to boot!

Also, part of getting to know people better entails learning their views on hard hitting issues like religion and politics (which these days seem like kissin’ cousins), the environment, and my recent dabblings in witchcraft Malthus, misanthropy, and existentialism. And the stances on the Nyan Cat. Make sure to turn down it’s volume though.

It was at these talks that I realized that it is very probably a good thing that I am not in the Harry Potter universe (this is the only time you’ll ever hear me say this) because I would most likely be a purist, join Voldemort, and kill a bunch of muggles. Why you ask? Hahaha, no, it is not because recent events have made me homicidal. It is because muggles are killing and ruining earth and making it an awful place to live. How cute would the world be if it was inhabited by penguins only?

I replace real human connections with online connections with infinitely cuter small animals. Deal with it.

Another good reason is that if I was a Death Eater (I mean, it’s almost worth it for the tattoo alone), I’d be OBSESSED with creating a horcrux. Mainly so I could justify my massive muggle kill count, but also because I just like the concept of them. Everyone that I killed would instantly become a piece of memorabilia. And we packrats LOVE memorabilia. And the pretty-ring version of a person would ultimately be more useful than their real/annoying human counterpart.

I think this is the part where you call your local authorities and either put me on a PSYCH Hold 5150 or just go straight to the needle.

I am slowly working through everything, and until I am committed and fully prescribed, I seem to be on the upswing.

Two people I wouldn’t kill: KarminCovers. The bad-assery they achieve is beyond any that I’ve known.

There was a tornado warning a couple days ago while I was watching movies with my friend. Yes I do have one. And we were watching classic LGBTQ dramas (Milk and Brokeback Mountain), and it just made me think, people are so awful. Why do they constantly hate each other and blame twinkies!!!! Mainly, the defense in Milk came down to the following:


The awfulness that people experienced not too long ago (I could dedicate an entire post to how upset I get after watching Brokeback, but I write those sorts of things while I’m bawling and using the pages of my Girltech Password journal as tissues and poetry space) is so large that I find humanity unforgivable. On so many counts. And the fact that we have barely made any progress is even more disillusioning and disheartening.

So my plan is to find a worthy victim and future piece of memorabilia and make a horcrux as a stepping stone so that I can slowly but surely exert my rule over the world and make it a better place eventually.

But maybe I’m just crazy.

Tune in next time to find out if our young hero pulls it together or not.



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