yet another conspiriusy
Sep. 12th, 2006 11:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ontologyI saw Padfoot again today, being walked by a large bloke with absolutely no hair at all by the large, tangley hill directly behind my house. He was sniffing something. Perhaps I dropped something? He's trying to find me, I know it. After he finds me, I haven't any idea what he wants to do, seeing as he can't speak while trapped in dog form, and I have no...anything. Especially not tickets to London. (Then again, if Remus lives in my closet...)
And who's the bald bloke, and how does he play in? (He could be someone completely random that happened to pick a bedraggled-looking dog off the road, but that's not interesting enough!) Are there American Death Eaters? (Um. No.) Or has he noticed the dog's proficiency for crossword puzzles and is exploiting him at fairs and things?
Er. Yes. I have gone quite, quite far off the deep end. I am swimming in the middle of the ocean, practically. But this is the best. conspiracy. theory. ever. (And it wants to be fic. I'm not sure if I'm ready for that yet. *cowers* That, and Ted/Andromeda angst-fluff set to 'All You Need Is Love'. Which I have been humming all day.)
In other news, I have stripey stockings (green and black, and I only just realised what a Slytherin I must look--all in black, except for the stockings!), and the medallion from Pirates of the Caribbean, because I am a geeky fangirl. Soon, I will have black and white and red and white stripey stockings. I also bought an orange-green-yellow-brown plaid scarf that looks like a relic from the seventies (we've pictures of Dad in trousers just like it!), and I will pretend that it used to be Sirius'. Er.
It is also very nippy and rainy today, and there are beginning to be great splotches of orange on some of the trees, and I have been alternating between Prisoner of Azkaban, Beowulf, and the first volume of Simon Schama's History of Britain all day, which has made for a pretty cheery day.
And who's the bald bloke, and how does he play in? (He could be someone completely random that happened to pick a bedraggled-looking dog off the road, but that's not interesting enough!) Are there American Death Eaters? (Um. No.) Or has he noticed the dog's proficiency for crossword puzzles and is exploiting him at fairs and things?
Er. Yes. I have gone quite, quite far off the deep end. I am swimming in the middle of the ocean, practically. But this is the best. conspiracy. theory. ever. (And it wants to be fic. I'm not sure if I'm ready for that yet. *cowers* That, and Ted/Andromeda angst-fluff set to 'All You Need Is Love'. Which I have been humming all day.)
In other news, I have stripey stockings (green and black, and I only just realised what a Slytherin I must look--all in black, except for the stockings!), and the medallion from Pirates of the Caribbean, because I am a geeky fangirl. Soon, I will have black and white and red and white stripey stockings. I also bought an orange-green-yellow-brown plaid scarf that looks like a relic from the seventies (we've pictures of Dad in trousers just like it!), and I will pretend that it used to be Sirius'. Er.
It is also very nippy and rainy today, and there are beginning to be great splotches of orange on some of the trees, and I have been alternating between Prisoner of Azkaban, Beowulf, and the first volume of Simon Schama's History of Britain all day, which has made for a pretty cheery day.
