So...

[deanthomas]

I haven't written in here since everything happened. The things I usually write about seem so wrong. Hair? Break dancing? Paint brushes? My undying dislike of Quidditch? Yeah. -_

Comments

[potterstinks]

Well, at least you've come to terms with the fact that you're a waste of magic.

[deanthomas]

Fuck off you massive, massive arse boil.

[potterstinks]

Come now. Don't let's be foul-mouthed.

[deanthomas]

Come now. You can take it. You piddling little gnome's cock.

[potterstinks]

Did you actually think I was saying as much to imply that I 'cannot take it'? This is sad. You do realise that swear words really mean nothing, yes? I mean, you might as well have just called me a majestic tree and it would have all the same effect.

[deanthomas]

Do you know what really means nothing? Anything that comes out of your smug, cowardly pie-hole. It's no more significant than a heap of mouldering rubbish, or a wart on a toad's back. It inspires only mild revulsion and a desire to wash ones' hands thoroughly. I'm through putting on a polite face to you. There's hardly a reason to these days. And since I would never give a heap of mouldering rubbish the time of day, let alone a polite conversation, I'll give you nothing better.

[potterstinks]

And yet, you've just written an entire paragraph to me. Besides, if it meant nothing, surely you wouldn't be so angry. What a moron.

[deanthomas]

Not angry. Just interested in airing the truth. I don't feel anger towards rubbish pile after all. It's just something to walk carefully around and hope you don't soak your shoes. Today, it seems I felt like walking straight through the pile.

Now you'll excuse me, I'm sure, as I must go scrub my feet and find fresh socks.

[potterstinks]

Oh, but see, you've sworn at me. Do you always swear at piles of rubbish that aren't bothering you? You may want to seek help.

[deanthomas]

When they ruin my shoes and socks, yes. But worry not, I've changed my footwear.

[potterstinks]

Yet you continue to answer. After all that about having nothing to say, too. I'm disappointed in your lack of convictions, Thomas.

[deanthomas]

Because I refuse to let a rubbish heap have the last word. Even if that word is itself quite rubbishy in nature.

[potterstinks]

If you're that resigned about it, clearly you're bothered by the idea of me having the last word.

[deanthomas]

All rubbish has got to be cleaned up and disposed of at some point. Consider this my efforts to get you out of my way so I won't soil my fresh clean socks. As for last words: just don't want any rubbish left laying around, you know? I'm just tidy like that.

[potterstinks]

I think your rubbish fetish has gone a bit over the top, don't you? You've devoted far too much time to developing your dumb comparison. I'm certain this battle of wits shall be exhilirating. My wits versus your complete opposite thereof.

[deanthomas]

Sorry, I have better things to battle than your so-called wits. Got a shopping date, anyway.