Saturday, September 14th, 2002
7:57 pm - Meanwhile, in the exercise yard of the Dol Guldur maximum security lockup...

(6 quick-witted retorts | Fuck you, clown!!)

Thursday, July 11th, 2002
8:21 pm - All right. It's shut up and put out time.
So. According to Slutboy Slutboy, it's that idiot Fatty Bolger who's been sending me the chocolates and the roses and the crappy poetry.

Quelle-fucking-surprise.

I mean, Fatty is just like I used to be... always mooning around after some perpetually unavailable love object, sniffing desperately for crumbs of affection under the tables of other peoples' relationships. And then whining "My mun made me, my mun made me!" whenever it looks like he might actually have to do more than just front.

Ha. And by that, I mean BIG GIANT FUCKING "HA!!!" I pined over Frodo for too many years, and there's no way I'm gonna fall into that trap again and follow the bicycle of Valinor around for a few more. I'm a changed hobbit man woman person (and you could learn from it, Mr I'm-Just-Sexually-Liberated-Not-Pathetically-Needy-Really-I-Am).

Wednesday, July 10th, 2002
7:24 pm
Hmmm.

Chocolates yesterday. This today.

There's pretty fucking obviously something going on here. But I have no clue who's doing all this, since they have such piss-poor handwriting that I couldn't read yesterday's note or today's limerick (though I have the feeling it was shitty, insincere, and poorly thought out.)

So I suppose I wait for whoever it is to get the cojones to show themselves.

Did my hair, painted my nails, sprayed some Bactine in my pits, then tidied up the Haunted Hole and settled in with a pitcher of whiskey sours.

Bring on the motherfucking l'amour.



current mood: curious
current music: Parliament/Funkadelic - Supergroovalisticprosifunkstication
(28 quick-witted retorts | Fuck you, clown!!)

7:18 am
Well... after getting point-blank refused yesterday by the biggest slut in or above Middle-Earth, I took that twenty bucks I don't have to pay back to Anairë and went to The One Ringlet for a TOTAL MAKEOVER.

Look, I got the "Lord Elladan Special"!



And my icon has a hat again just for you, Frodo.

current mood: ecstatic
current music: The Knack - My Sharona
(8 quick-witted retorts | Fuck you, clown!!)

Tuesday, July 9th, 2002
11:05 pm
Well, well, well. Look what I found in the 90%-markdown clearance bin at Isildur's Secret. A life-sized inflatable lovedoll of the most miserable excuse for a father/husband/brother/son/elected official/sidekick in all of Middle-Earth (aka the "Tickle Me Fatses" doll.) It even says "Glory and trumpets!" and "You're my mack daddy, seemingly!" and a bunch of other stupid shit. In other words, it's just like the real thing, only it's appreciably smarter and emphatically more hygenic.



(buys with linty change in bottom of pocket)

(throws darts at)

current mood: bored
current music: Electric Light Orchestra - Don't Bring Me Down (Bruce)
(12 quick-witted retorts | Fuck you, clown!!)

7:05 pm
(clomps around in Star Trek outfit and go-go boots)

oooh I hope he calls or drops by or lets me touch him inappropriately or even reluctantly acknowledges my existence out of sheer irritation...

Whazzat? Someone on the porch?

(opens trapdoor of Haunted Hole to peer out)



(picks up)

(scratches head)

The fuck? People send sympathy chocolates nowadays?

current mood: surprised
current music: Rufus/Chaka Khan - Tell Me Something Good
(5 quick-witted retorts | Fuck you, clown!!)

Monday, July 8th, 2002
9:13 pm
(returns to the Haunted Hole from scaring the crap out of Ghost Bilbo Baggins and having a few boilermakers)

...doo doot de doo... my momma was a Gibson, my daddy was a Fender... that's why they call me... the Mindbender......

Huh?

(picks up flowers)

What the hell? Hey, a note.

Haw haw haw!!! Maybe I've got a secret admirer. (squints) Fucked if I can read this chicken scrawl, though.

(crumples paper, tosses over shoulder)

Probably more sympathy shit for Bingo. I'll go put these in water where the freak can see 'em.

...dum dum dum.... Mindbender.... sure to bloooooow your mind away......

current mood: confused
(19 quick-witted retorts | Fuck you, clown!!)

Saturday, July 6th, 2002
6:49 pm
Okay, it's almost time.

(holds Bingo at arm's length, eyes critically)

I still think I should have put one of my suits on you. But lime-green polyester isn't really appropriate for a funeral, I guess.

(wets comb in sink, begins to tug it through Bingo's hair)

Fuck if I know what's appropriate, anyway. If this thing had been left up to me, it'd probably devolve into something with a cash bar and strippers and gun violence before you could say boo. Thank Eru that your grandma Mirabella took over. That old bat's a piece of work, isn't she? Glad she showed up when she did, though. I'm no goddamn good in a crisis. Never have been. Remember how I went right to pieces when Sugar-Thighs got blinded? Heh. Tried to give you away and shit. Anairë had to hit me over the head with an empty Glenfidditch bottle to calm me down. Though I think she enjoyed it.

(smooths wet curls)

There. Got you all washed up and tidy, so Elanor won't kick my ass. That girl may be sweet little Miss New-Agey I'm-Okay-You're-Okay, but trust me, you don't want to see her get mad. She makes her fucking psychotic pan-wielding dad look like Pansymir once she gets going. I'm talking force of nature.

(sits on floor, combs out Bingo's footfur)

Looking good, chum. You know, I can't get used to these weird smooth feet of mine. And how small they are, even though I'm so tall now. Of course, I can't get used to these fucking pantyhose either. (tugs violently) My personal areas feel like they've been Saran-wrapped, and not in the good kind of way. And shoes... who the fuck ever thought up something as stupid as shoes? You can't balance in these things and they pinch.

Hey, do you remember when Anairë first showed up here? I was all kinds of fucking hungover from drinking all that wood-ethyl alcohol with Frodo the night before, and I was sitting on the floor suffering when Frodo's insane fucking mother ran in yelling about smashing mass media or some shit, and I passed out, and then Anairë came in and she passed out, and then I woke up and poked her in the ribs and she hit me. Cracked me one right between the fucking eyes. She had a right cross like Galadriel's, I can tell you that.

And the time I turned the Consulate into a duty-free store and sold cigarettes and booze and almost started a war with Rohan... that was pretty funny. And how I used to play the Jackson Five up real loud because Anairë hated them. And how she'd bitch at me for getting water all over the floor when I showered, and then I'd drop my towel and start doing the naked macarena and she'd scream and scream and scream.

I guess I gave her a lot of shit, huh? She was a good sport.

(gets up and smooths his black frock)

All right. I think we're ready. Mirabella sent that Took kid to borrow Nick Cotton's pony cart for us, and he should be here with it soon. And Elanor's gonna show up any time now.

(takes Bingo's hand)

Come on, fre-- Bingo. We can wait out in the garden. We'll pick some flowers to take with us out to the farm.

(41 quick-witted retorts | Fuck you, clown!!)

Friday, July 5th, 2002
6:57 am
(taps fingers)

(shifts around in chair)

(looks at Bingo)

Um.

Do you want a beer, or something? There's lots of beer in the refrigerator.




No? Okay. Tea, maybe? You like tea. I can make us some tea. Water? I'll get you a glass of water, okay?

(jumps to feet)

(encounters the furniture)

(sits back down, clutching shin)




Right. No water, no tea.




Uh... something stronger? To help you get to sleep? I've got Pip Daddy's pager number. I guarantee that he's got something that can make you feel better. Or at least relax you enough to make you blink occasionally.




Roger. That's a no on los drogas. Gotcha.





(wiggles butt uncomfortably in hobbit-sized La-Z-Boy)

(sighs)

I know I didn't always get along with her, but I'm sorry. Really sorry, I mean, not just like when people say "I'm sorry" when stuff like this happens but they don't actually give a fuck. I don't know why it is that whether you mean it or not you have to use the same two words. They ought to have different ones, right? I really do give a fuck. I mean, I really am sorry. For her. And, um, for you. And that it happened.






Do you want me to shut up? Because I can do that. I'll just shut up. You probably just want to sit, don't you? So let's do that. Let's sit.




(looks away from Bingo)


(shifts around in chair)


(taps fingers)

current mood: uncomfortable
current music: the kitchen faucet dripping
(4 quick-witted retorts | Fuck you, clown!!)

Thursday, July 4th, 2002
8:24 pm
Oh, great.

Now I'm not only a Big Person with weird hairless feet, I'm an ugly Big Person with weird hairless feet. And... (lifts shirt collar, peers down front) a girl. I think. One that makes Anairë look like Pamela-Lee-fucking-Anderson, no less.

(stoops down, ducks through doorway of Haunted Hole)

I'm so depressed. I don't even feel like drinking cheap beer and shooting out streetlights. (sniffles) I think I'll just read a romance novel and eat chocolate chips straight from the bag instead.

current mood: really fucking homely
current music: some Abba song
(14 quick-witted retorts | Fuck you, clown!!)

2:57 pm
Nobody loves me. I even turned into a cute little talking animal with a makeshift hat, and still no one loves me. (sniffles) I give up.

Okay, Chubb, come and get me. I don't care any more.

current mood: sad
current music: the watery warbling of my massive self-pity
(18 quick-witted retorts | Fuck you, clown!!)

Wednesday, July 3rd, 2002
6:30 am - Slightly OOC.
I miss Gollum. And Lotho.

current mood: nostalgic
current music: Ringo Starr - It Don't Come Easy
(20 quick-witted retorts | Fuck you, clown!!)

Monday, July 1st, 2002
6:49 am
(dances awkwardly)

(sings)

I went down to St. James Infirmary,
Saw my baby there,
Set down on a long white table,
So sweet, so cold, so fair...


Ow!!! Quit throwing the fucking peanuts!!!

current mood: psittacine
current music: Pedro yelling "Andale, andale! Yeeha!!"
(25 quick-witted retorts | Fuck you, clown!!)

Sunday, June 30th, 2002
10:33 pm
Hmmm.

So, it looks like I used the Agony Neutralizer and got away with it! My self-destructive obsession with that adulterous siren of treachery, Frodo Baggins, has been cured, and there haven't been any weird side effects so far. Haven't even felt the slightest twinge of desire to get it on with Fatty Bolger, thank Eru.

Hehehe!! Science is easy!! Why, I....
(7 quick-witted retorts | Fuck you, clown!!)

Friday, June 28th, 2002
5:03 am
Okay, I am now officially more stupid.

I turned down, as in refused the offer of, wild love with a fine-ass Vala. No, make that the fine-ass Vala. The one whose sultry smile, whose sexy ways make old men wish for younger days. Who makes the grown women blush and the young girls squeal. Who can walk into any given room and seconds later everyone's clothes come flying out.

Yup, that's right. Sancho the Idiot turned down what will probably be his one and only opportunity to get hit oh-so-pleasurably with none other than Irmo's rhythm stick. ... and no, of course I'm not gay, dammit!! C'mon, it's Irmo, and everyone wants to break off a piece of that!!!

I don't need to spell out to anyone why I turned him down, do I?

And now that I've been used, abused and dumped by not only this reality's Frodo Baggins, but pretty much every spatial-temporal version of Frodo Baggins there has previously/is now/will ever be, I'm starting to think it's time to cut my fucking losses and push away from the table. After all, inbetween his bouts of domestic bliss with Mayor McBilboNuggets, Frodo's getting down with Fatty and Pip Daddy and something that looks a whole lot like a tall Estella Bolger and who knows who. Me? I just sit around and nurse my stupid fucking folie amoreux like I've done since we were both tweenagers, watching Flipper for the nth time and crying in my DMX-laced cough syrup.

Pretty much anything is better than another forty or so years of unrequited love. So, I took the Sancholator back into a parallel past about five seconds before that fucking Ring-wielding abortion blew my Agony Neutralizer up and I snatched it back here.

A few tweaks and customizations later, and after some augmenting with that stuff I gave the Lonely Mountain dwarves three bottles of Haradrim mezcál to forge for me and a motor I got out of an Isildur's Secret BigBobBalrog™ model, this baby is ready to fly.

I've set it for all of those rotten tweenage years when my life went wrong and my hopeless jones for Sugar-Thighs sunk its strangling tentacles into my soul. This machine'll either kill or cure... and I'll take either one. But oh Eru please please please don't let it make me want to fuck Fatty...

Here goes.

(points the Agony Neutralizer at self)

(closes eyes, clenches teeth)

...we've been crying now for much too long, soon we're gonna sing a different song...

(pushes button)

ZZZZZAP!!!!

current mood: determined
current music: Rose Royce - Car Wash
(17 quick-witted retorts | Fuck you, clown!!)

Wednesday, June 19th, 2002
6:44 am - Just stepped in to see what condition my condition is in.
I know it's hard as fuck to believe about a hobbit who flunked shop class -- twice! -- but ol' Sancho is doing pretty well as a mad scientist! I took a page from that kid Mike Fox's book and made myself some interdimensional transport, so that I can step back and forth more or less at will. (With a few accidental side-trips along the way -- we won't talk about the dimension filled entirely with dancing naked Lobelia Sackville-Bagginses.)

My amazing Sancholator™ car/time machine/dimensional-transporter is a 1376 SR puke-green AMC Gremlin, unfortunately, since there was no way I was going to experiment on my fly and perfectly restored Riviera. But hey, looks aren't everything, and it gets 28 in the city, 35 on the highway, and nearly 40 going across alternate realities!

But that's neither here nor there. I was cruising alternate probabilities in the Sancholator and I saw this.

Now, normally seeing something I'd prayed for, schemed for, and orchestrated contract killings for finally fucking coming to pass would make me happy. Would make me jump with glee. Normally I would lay down on the floor and holler out of pure unalloyed fucking schadenfreude at the culmination of nearly all of my dreams, wishes and hopes.

But I'm getting soft in my old age or something, I guess.

So... Sam, Frodo, I know you're going through a bad time now, but I'd like to remind you of this. Even though every fiber of my being screams against it.

Just consider it, is all I'm sayin'. There might be something worthwhile left between you two to salvage.


Now, if you all would excuse me again, I have a date with the hottest cheerleader in Arda and the best Friday night of my life to relive another thousand or so times... ;)

(Gremlin sputters off into the aether)

current mood: mellow
current music: Molly Hatchet - Flirtin' with Disaster
(9 quick-witted retorts | Fuck you, clown!!)

Wednesday, June 12th, 2002
10:07 pm - Do all the great tales never end?


Only when you're in my arms...
I can reach up to heaven
And pluck out a star from the blue
It's true -- but only when you're in my arms

I can live without riches
And still have a million or two
It's true, but only when you're in my arms

Though I'm ambitious, my wishes
Have always been simple and few.
Give me the moonlight, the music
And, darling, an armful of you

I can see myself doing
All the things that I never could do.
It's true...

But only when you're in my arms.



current mood: finished for now
current music: blows kisses to everyone!
(6 quick-witted retorts | Fuck you, clown!!)

7:02 am - He blowed up real good.
You tried to set it to make me not love Frodo, like your mom and love Halfred?!?! You stupid fucking half-Gamgee Ring-bearing spawn of Sauron! It's an Agony Neutralizer -- it gets rid of trauma from bad memories, not fucking drops you into an episode of "Love Eriador Style"!

It's overloading!! Watch out!!!


BOOM!!!



.............................................

........................................................................


Grass. Sky. Not dead?

(rolls over, looks around)

I'm back in Buckland?!?! How the fuck did I get here?

And...



............................

.... there's Brandy High?

current mood: confused
current music: Bill Haley and His Comets - "Rock Around the Clock"
(20 quick-witted retorts | Fuck you, clown!!)

Monday, June 10th, 2002
6:36 pm


current mood: murderous
current music: Ted Nugent - Stranglehold
(13 quick-witted retorts | Fuck you, clown!!)