Your mum is so dumb, it takes her two hours to watch 60 Minutes.

I have no idea whatsoever what the bloody hell that's supposed to mean. Our new gardener is American, and he's been teaching me the most fascinating slang. I already know how to crack "your mum" jokes, and I know how to properly say "pass that Big Mac."

He also introduced me to 80s Muggle music. There are songs about thriller nights and feeling like a virgin. I can't wait to get back to camp so I can share all this with each and every one of you. America in the 80s must have been absolutely amazing.

Would you look at that! We're back. Apparently, there is a good side to murderous arses rampaging freely around. Well, that and the impending, inevitable obliteration of Muggle entertainment. I don't quite grasp what a television is, but I've seen enough minutes of Martha Stewart to know that it must be destroyed.

That doctor did a wonderful job on my face, don't you think.

It seems that the thing we all feared has happened, doesn't it? No one wanted to lose touch when we got to Hogwarts, but it seems that after we left camp this journal thing... died. I suppose it's all the work, isn't it? Seventh-year takes much more effort than sixth-year, but that's to be expected. Still doesn't make it any less irritating.

Try to write more, won't you? If anything to make this blasted school year less tiresome.

So. Scavenger hunt thinger. Anyone wanna be my partner?

Today is my 17th birthday, which is fairly great. Mum and Dad, imaginative as always, sent me money as a gift. I'm not really complaining, though. There was nothing I particularly wanted, and money is always a great gift to receive.

I'm not as excited about becoming an adult as I thought I would be. Sure, now I can use magic whenever, but... meh. It's really not all that great.

I was kind of hoping my family had a book like Longbottom's. It would've been very, very amusing to receive something like that as a present.

Seamus Finnigan.

Where the fucking everlasting hell are you?! You stood me up, you bastard.

I CANNOT DEAL WITH THIS SEXUAL FRUSTRATION FOR ANY LONGER. I am going insane. Insane!

( Private to Harry PotterCollapse )

Ten 70 galleons to the first person who manages to look up Potter's shirt. *snicker*

I am fucking bored. Bored, bored, bored. I mean it. I was entertaining myself by casting Incendio on random mosquitoes flying around my tent. It was really quite amusing, it made them look like firef--

Oh, Merlin, I'm pathetic.

I think I'm gonna head down to the cafeteria and try to convince one of the cafeteria ladies to give me food. They're not as scary as everyone says they are, in my opinion. Well, except maybe the one with that really long hair sticking out of her nostril.

Hexed against anyone over 18.

So, fencing was fun. Sure, I now have bruises in places I didn't even know existed in a human being, and can't take a step without almost falling to my knees, but yeah, it was fun. Maybe it'll be more fun if I develop masochistic tendencies. Hmm. Yes.

Also, I've only had sex with one person in this camp and I am afraid that I have needs. Anyone willing to help me? I'll take pretty much anyone, really, as long as you're 1. male and 2. not a Hufflepuff.