ARGHSPLUTTERGRRR
Phones SUCK.
Okay, I have no problems with living in a Muggle flat. None. Really. Except for maybe the fact that Bodie won't let me charm the built in cupboard thing for more space. But apart from that. No issue.
BUT. Phones SUCK.
They're useful, fair enough. That's great. They make for quick communication because Muggles. Can't. Apparate. I GET THAT. Muggles don't have Floo. Or port-keys. Or, most of them anyway, OWLS. Grand. BUT I HAVE HAD IT WITH PHONES.
REALLY. Up to HERE.
Monday - Bodie's mate calls. Now Murphy's cute enough, and he's got a nice voice, but I was BUSY, dammit. I was right in the middle of my Thestral digestion essay and he rings to find out if Bodie's okay for a drink this Saturday. Bollocks to you mate, you officially lose a life.
Tuesday - Doyle. THREE TIMES. I mean, I don't mind Doyle calling, but he could have said it all in the ONE phonecall. He did not need to interrupt me three bloody times. I was cleaning like a good little bitch 'cause Bodie told me the flat needed it. He loses all the bonus points he'd collected up over the past month. Zip, nada. You are starting from scratch my boy.
Wednesday - George calls. Now, this is fine. At the time it was piging annoying because I was dishing up dinner which, may I add, burned. But seeing as George is ... well, seeing as he needs it right now ... he can have all of Doyle's bonus points because he needs to get better. So. There. Neener.
Thursday - dead. Yeah, it really was a perfect day. So, off this week due to small explosion in the labs at Uni and no work because Tony told me. This day was what my whole week should have been like. Up until around about ten thirty. Because Bodie came home at ten and then it was about ten thirty before I managed to get him naked.
I was just going for the lube and RING fucking RING. I ignored it. Once. But when he rang again he demanded I pick it up. Bill. POOF. BANG. Bill loses all his magical powers and will be the victim of my wrath.
Friday - bollocks to George Cowley, may he burn his little Scottish cotton socks. Sure, he uses his nicest possible telephone voice with me, like he's talking to an agents WIFE. And he does have a nice voice - sorry Bodie - and I could listen to it for a while. But no. Just NO. BODIE WAS SUPPOSED TO HAVE FRIDAY OFF YOU SOUR LITTLE SCOTSMAN. Pfft. You lose a life, too. In fact ... no, maybe not a life. Because you don't have that much left. You lose all your loyalty points.
Saturday - he really does have today off. In fact he's finishing off the last half of the newest history book while I write this and go shower 'cause we're going out. To see George at the hospital, to check in on Auntie, then mum and maybe dinner. Family time, so to speak. BUT. Apparently this does not HELP me any. Because at nine in the morning someone I don't know, but who is apparently a mate, phoned for Bodie. AT NINE IN THE MORNING. You get banned from the team, my friend. Then I was PEEING about fifteen minutes ago and GINNY CALLS. You lose all your charm power.
I want to rip the cable out.
PHONES SUCK. Don't call me.
OOC: Nope, the timeframe doesn't match but he needed to vent. Also - he's not really pissed so Sara, no worry about the icon ;)
Okay, I have no problems with living in a Muggle flat. None. Really. Except for maybe the fact that Bodie won't let me charm the built in cupboard thing for more space. But apart from that. No issue.
BUT. Phones SUCK.
They're useful, fair enough. That's great. They make for quick communication because Muggles. Can't. Apparate. I GET THAT. Muggles don't have Floo. Or port-keys. Or, most of them anyway, OWLS. Grand. BUT I HAVE HAD IT WITH PHONES.
REALLY. Up to HERE.
Monday - Bodie's mate calls. Now Murphy's cute enough, and he's got a nice voice, but I was BUSY, dammit. I was right in the middle of my Thestral digestion essay and he rings to find out if Bodie's okay for a drink this Saturday. Bollocks to you mate, you officially lose a life.
Tuesday - Doyle. THREE TIMES. I mean, I don't mind Doyle calling, but he could have said it all in the ONE phonecall. He did not need to interrupt me three bloody times. I was cleaning like a good little bitch 'cause Bodie told me the flat needed it. He loses all the bonus points he'd collected up over the past month. Zip, nada. You are starting from scratch my boy.
Wednesday - George calls. Now, this is fine. At the time it was piging annoying because I was dishing up dinner which, may I add, burned. But seeing as George is ... well, seeing as he needs it right now ... he can have all of Doyle's bonus points because he needs to get better. So. There. Neener.
Thursday - dead. Yeah, it really was a perfect day. So, off this week due to small explosion in the labs at Uni and no work because Tony told me. This day was what my whole week should have been like. Up until around about ten thirty. Because Bodie came home at ten and then it was about ten thirty before I managed to get him naked.
I was just going for the lube and RING fucking RING. I ignored it. Once. But when he rang again he demanded I pick it up. Bill. POOF. BANG. Bill loses all his magical powers and will be the victim of my wrath.
Friday - bollocks to George Cowley, may he burn his little Scottish cotton socks. Sure, he uses his nicest possible telephone voice with me, like he's talking to an agents WIFE. And he does have a nice voice - sorry Bodie - and I could listen to it for a while. But no. Just NO. BODIE WAS SUPPOSED TO HAVE FRIDAY OFF YOU SOUR LITTLE SCOTSMAN. Pfft. You lose a life, too. In fact ... no, maybe not a life. Because you don't have that much left. You lose all your loyalty points.
Saturday - he really does have today off. In fact he's finishing off the last half of the newest history book while I write this and go shower 'cause we're going out. To see George at the hospital, to check in on Auntie, then mum and maybe dinner. Family time, so to speak. BUT. Apparently this does not HELP me any. Because at nine in the morning someone I don't know, but who is apparently a mate, phoned for Bodie. AT NINE IN THE MORNING. You get banned from the team, my friend. Then I was PEEING about fifteen minutes ago and GINNY CALLS. You lose all your charm power.
I want to rip the cable out.
PHONES SUCK. Don't call me.
OOC: Nope, the timeframe doesn't match but he needed to vent. Also - he's not really pissed so Sara, no worry about the icon ;)