ishyface | (no subject)

Last night, right before I went to sleep, I decided that I needed to write a fic in which Luna becomes the new conductor of the Knight Bus.
I'd hoped that in the morning it wouldn't seem like a good idea.
No such luck.

Also, apparently I'm a Satanist.

You scored as Satanism. Your beliefs most closely resemble those of Satanism! Before you scream, do a bit of research on it. To be a Satanist, you don't actually have to believe in Satan. Satanism generally focuses upon the spiritual advancement of the self, rather than upon submission to a deity or a set of moral codes. Do some research if you immediately think of the satanic cult stereotype. Your beliefs may also resemble those of earth-based religions such as paganism.

</td>

Satanism

83%

Paganism

75%

agnosticism

75%

Buddhism

75%

Hinduism

63%

atheism

63%

Islam

58%

Christianity

42%

Judaism

29%

Which religion is the right one for you? (new version)
created with QuizFarm.com

The Catholic in me is horrified. But that's okay, because the Catholic in me is always horrified. Or, rather, appalled.

ETA: When you wash dishes and have some "dried on" food on them, just wiping your dish rag over the dish does not remove it all. You must use some elbow grease, and may even require a "scrub pad" of some kind to remove it all.
Well, some demons are the same way. Just saying "come out in the name of JESUS" does not always insure a "clean plate". The demon may be "dried on" for some reason like being involved in witchcraft, holding unforgiveness, etc. This requires the "scrub pad" of the Holy Spirit...

"The scrub pad of the Holy Spirit." I love Demonbuster.

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And why were you spying on Leah's amorous interludes with her island, Martine? ~~Perv.~~
(That is a very good title. I need to make a film called that. It can be a weird arty indie flick involving carrots. And animation sequences.)
Dun dun DUN DUN dun dun DUN DUN...

Um, ah, I didn't know, man, I just um, happened to look over accrose the lake, and, had a camera and I was so surprised my hand had a spasim and then the camera clicked. Fer serious.
(Can I be in your cinimatic production?)
*loves it*
Alright, so do you want to go to Leah's island and have a fire and accutally camp too, the night before we go with the kowala bears and star in a movie where we will hum the theme song from Mission Impossible? (We won't be able to have a fire at my house.) I know you don't really know Leah all that well, so it's cool if you don't want to go, but she said she definatly wants you to come. If you want. so yeah. and stuff. AND SMORES.

Oh, well, THAT'S alright then.
(How do you feel about the part of the Russian assassin? You'd get to wear a furry hat.)
FIRE + SMORES = GOOD EQUATION. And as Leah doesn't mind having impassioned arguments at three in the morning that is good. On Thursday or tomorrow?

FUCK.
Disregard above. Apparently my parents are just too skittish to let me go anywhere with anyone who doesn't have a penis.

Wha!?
Leah's dad has a penis! (he's even canoeing us!)
Wait...
that doesn't mean you can't come camping in my backyard either, does it?

I have absolutely no idea what's going on because it's like it's okay and then it's not and it's okay again but then she goes on big spiels about how she's gonna worry and she needs to know where exactly it is and ARGH.

Does your mom want to talk to my mom?

and where Leah lives:
"Go down from your subdivison, turn left on St. Margerets Bay Road, keep driving untill you see two appartment buildings, drive to the next corner on your right and there's three driveways, and take the first one, its marked 3033, and you keep straight, don't go into the first house. (the driveway is a KM)the lake is called Fraiser Lake if you want to look it up on a map." But I'd be able to drive you to Leah's tonight, I hope that your mom doesn't worry? (And the island is about a five minute canoe ride from her house)

I think my mom wants to send me into an institution at this point. Bah.
But yes, I think she might want to talk to your mom, or Leah's dad. She's not home until... six, I think.