(no subject)
Dexter is shouting at me for being obsessive, especially about that night in February. 'This is not that house! This is not the same! What are you doing?! I am going to KILL you!'
Dexter is even paler than usual, but he didn't eat as much as the rest of us, so he wasn't very sick. Just infuriated by the mess we all made. Jimmy's still in the bathroom being sick. He woke up later than the rest of us, and nearly everyone had finished the nasty business of food poisoning by then. Of course, no one thought to warn Jimmy that some idiot used rancid milk for the biscuits, and I don't know what else. It felt like my stomach was being ripped out. I'm not sure bad milk should cause that, and I don't think I want to know either. It looks like we're staying here for a while, so early this afternoon I commandeered a car and a driver and bought new groceries.
Dexter broke the door to the bathroom a few hours ago and started screaming at Jimmy about being a bad guest. I think that's really funny, considering, but like I said, Dexter doesn't.
'It was just that one night! Just that night! You weren't supposed to tell anyone about it! Why are you talking to me?!' He reminds me of Harry Potter in OotP. I love him. I cannot tell him this, it would make him angrier. Which makes me love him more. It's like this hard shiny shell, a candy coated nebula of rage extending in a three foot radius around him. I want to lick it, slurp it sticky and melt it, but only a little because really, it warms me.
Jimmy hasn't made a noise or moved in about an hour now, I'm guessing it's okay to move him. Somewhere not too far from the bathroom though. I want to get Dexter to take me for a ride in that car, that car, and what better time to do it while Jimmy is out cold? Maybe I should move him to a different bathroom and lock him in, just to make sure.
Dexter is even paler than usual, but he didn't eat as much as the rest of us, so he wasn't very sick. Just infuriated by the mess we all made. Jimmy's still in the bathroom being sick. He woke up later than the rest of us, and nearly everyone had finished the nasty business of food poisoning by then. Of course, no one thought to warn Jimmy that some idiot used rancid milk for the biscuits, and I don't know what else. It felt like my stomach was being ripped out. I'm not sure bad milk should cause that, and I don't think I want to know either. It looks like we're staying here for a while, so early this afternoon I commandeered a car and a driver and bought new groceries.
Dexter broke the door to the bathroom a few hours ago and started screaming at Jimmy about being a bad guest. I think that's really funny, considering, but like I said, Dexter doesn't.
'It was just that one night! Just that night! You weren't supposed to tell anyone about it! Why are you talking to me?!' He reminds me of Harry Potter in OotP. I love him. I cannot tell him this, it would make him angrier. Which makes me love him more. It's like this hard shiny shell, a candy coated nebula of rage extending in a three foot radius around him. I want to lick it, slurp it sticky and melt it, but only a little because really, it warms me.
Jimmy hasn't made a noise or moved in about an hour now, I'm guessing it's okay to move him. Somewhere not too far from the bathroom though. I want to get Dexter to take me for a ride in that car, that car, and what better time to do it while Jimmy is out cold? Maybe I should move him to a different bathroom and lock him in, just to make sure.