January 9th
Oh. My. Badness. (Well, I can hardly say ‘goodness,’ can I? Haven’t got much of that, you know, being pure evil and all.) It’s amazing how much has changed in just a few short months.
There I was, on top of the world, Dark Lord and all, killing Mudbloods left and right, saved a load of money on my broom insurance by switching to Blokeco, and now where am I?
Lying in a filthy Muggle hospital on a cot that’s as lumpy as Nagini after eating a few door-to-door salesmen, that’s where. And guess what?
1. I’m currently in a hospital room with walls that are the exact same colour as Draco Malfoy’s face right after drinking Midnight Surprise Fruit Wine, Carpet Cleaner, and Dessert Topping and right before vomiting into my 100-gallon tank of prized snakehead fish.
2. My roommate is a hapless oaf who broke his leg tripping over a molehill, and let me tell you, he’s making a mountain out of it, constantly whining and blubbering and demanding tax refunds. I just wish someone would drop an anvil on his head and get it over with.
3. GET. ME. OUT OF HERE!
So why am I wasting your time and depressing you with details of my so-called life? Well, for one, I’m ridiculously bored. Want to know what there is to do in a hospital? Other than asking rhetorical questions, not much. And for another, my previous blog received rave reviews, such as the following:
"Perfect! It's exactly what I was looking for to use as a liner for Hedwig's cage!
--Harry
P.S. VOLDEMORT IS A LEWZER!"
"Dear Voldemort-Person,
I used to think you were lame. Then I read your blog, and I've changed my mind. I think you're THE LAMEST OF THE LAMEY LAME PEOPLE! Also... lame! That too!
Love,
Ron.
P.S. Literally, haha. How are those bones doing?"
"I just read this blog, and I feel so enlightened. It really sucks me into your world, and I feel as though I can really see things from your point of view. At last, I understand what it must feel like to be a complete moron!
--Hermione."
You’re weird.
--Luna Lovegood.
Okay, so they aren't exactly raving... more like ranting, actually, but hey, at least they read it!
NOTE: AT LEAST I CAN SPELL LOSER, POTTER!
ANOTHER NOTE: So I'm lame, Weasley? Let's see YOU dive headfirst into a tank of tarantulas to retrieve the latte you dropped. Are you man enough for that?
A NOTE TO TACK ON TO THE END OF THE PREVIOUS NOTE: Okay, I just reread my blog and have come to the conclusion that maybe I am lame. But then, you’re even lamer for READING it, Ginger Knob.
Now that my self-esteem has been successfully punctured, deflated, and collapsed like a ruined soufflé, I feel I must tell describe how awful it is to be stuck here with--get this--no magical powers at all. Darn Nagini and her eBay addiction.
I have absolutely nothing to do! Now that the last chapter of my favourite story, “A Past Reclaimed,” by nuw255 (The ending was so touching that I cried; then I realized that I died in the end and was forced to e-Crucio the author), I’ve been reduced to obsessively watching “The Simple Life” (I can just feel my I.Q. rapidly dropping like a broken elevator… even my analogies are getting stupider) and writing letters to the producer of the Power Rangers demanding that they allow me to replace the blue one. I think they misunderstood my letters, because they got me a restraining order instead of a role in the show. Those crazy bureaucratic slip-ups!
You know what also really annoys me? The computer they have here in my room. Not only is it a piece of junk, it’s a Hewlett-Packard. This means that every time I turn it on, those two hateful initials, HP, flash onto the screen. Laughing at me. Mocking me. I hate it!
And don’t even get me started on hospital food! Today, for example, I received meatloaf that looked more like mangled squid intestines (and tasted even worse), green beans the colour of my skin, cauliflower that was (somewhat ironically) green and covered in cheese that was the exact same colour, mangled squid intestines that looked more like meatloaf (I’m not sure that’s an improvement), and pudding that
I’m quite sure it’s not safe to eat food that’s still moving and begging me not to eat it. And I’m fairly certain that it was not, in fact, Kosher as I had requested. (In regards to my religious preference, I am a Scientologist, but I always order Kosher because it eliminates the risk of getting green cheese on my mangled squid intestines.)
Naturally, I got the nurse who delivered this horrendous meal with a good Avada Kedavra. Unfortunately, I’d forgotten that I now have no magical powers to speak of. Furthermore, my wand’s been confiscated, and I was actually brandishing my cheese fork. So instead, I merely poked her in the arm and glared.
She laughed, but I think she was really intimidated.
On the bright side, I’m mostly healed. On the dark side are many Death Eaters. But that’s beside the point! My bones are almost entirely mended, but I still have to go to at least three more sessions of Parentheses Overusers Anonymous before I can be discharged (and I really don’t get what’s up with that. (It’s not like I have a problem! (I know I can quit any time I want))).
They used to let me do arm-strengthening physical therapy by letting me help out in the hospital kitchen, but they decided that was probably a bad idea after I exploded my fourth toaster in as many days. I tried to explain that it was a new cooking method and that I preferred my ready-made toaster-friendly pastries ‘well done,’ but they seemed to think it was a terrorist plot. Naturally, I was affronted. Wherever would they get a wacky idea like that? (Beside the fact that it’s the truth.)
However, just when I’d relinquished the faintest hope of ever reclaiming my position of Dark Lord extraordinaire, a nurse entered with two letters for me.
Mail! My ears perked up. What if they contained news that I’d won the lottery? What if they contained an interesting new strain of poison or virus that I could use against the insufferable medical team here? What if they held my magical powers, Filch having taken advantage of the six-month warranty and decided that he really didn’t deserve awesome magical skills as much as I did? What if they were new issues of my two favourite magazines, Evil Monthly and American Girl? What if the hokey pokey really was what it was all about?
The first letter was from some Nigerian prince offering big money in exchange for help in an African currency exchange.
The second letter changed my life…
COMMENTS:
Subj: AAAARRRRGGHH!
You think you’ve got it rough, dawg? Ha. Try sitting in some whack prison cell. No government officials to bribe, no hairdressers to style these luscious locks, no bling-bedecked robes (we get ugly neon orange prison robes instead, which may be ghetto but lack aesthetic charm), and no room to break-dance. And notice that Wormtail didn’t even get the first post. You wanna know why, brother? HE JUST DOESN’T CARE. Ohhhh, burn!
--Posted by daddylusciouslocks
RE: Subj: AAAARRRRGGHH!
This is your cellmate, Biff. You seem tense, man. Tried yoga?
--Posted by dementorssuck
RE: RE: Subj: AAAARRRRGGHH!
What’s that?
--Posted by daddylusciouslocks
RE: RE: RE: Subj: AAAARRRRGGHH!
It’s where you wear spandex and contort yourself into weird positions and hum to yourself.
--Posted by dementorssuck.
RE: RE: RE: RE: Subj: AAAARRRRGGHH!
That is not for me, man. That sounds like something my son would like.
--Posted by daddylusciouslocks
RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Subj: AAAARRRRGGHH!
A-HEM! My comments section, much like my review page, is not to be used as a chat room! And what’s with all of these ‘re’s? I swear, it’s just like a skip in my “Sound of Music” soundtrack right after the ‘do.’
--Posted by thedarklord666.
RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Subj: AAAARRRRGGHH!
You know, you’re right. Your analogies ARE getting stupider.
--Posted by hbpmaster.
P.S. Your grammar is horrible.
RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Subj: AAAARRRRGGHH!
Ever feel like you just don’t have a loyal slave in the world?
--Posted by thedarklord666.
The E-Journal of an Evil Janitor by Schmerg_The_Impaler
Chapter Notes: (Well! Here it is at last! The first chapter is not so great, but things pick up a little bit after this one. As always, I don't own Harry Potter, although I really do own an HP computer. Apologies to hospitals, Geico, Dave Barry, eBay, nuw255, The Simple Life (well, maybe I don't apologize about that one), Power Rangers, Hewlett-Packard, mangled squid intestines, Scientology, American Girl Magazines, and internet scammers from Nigeria.)
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