001

[theredredkrovvy]

The last true veshch your humble narrator can remember, I was intending to snuff it. Those grahzny bratchnies, that sodding writer veck and his foul malenky droogs, they like played that music to make me do it. I jumped from that okno on my oddy knocky with the shoom of the stracky orchestra in my ears and the feeling of wanting to be sick all through my brooko...

But after that, bratties, I think I dreamed. These doctor vecks standing over my gulliver and all around my plott stood these devotchkas with these like masks covering their rots and their zoobies. And I could slooshy like chumbled golosses that made no sense, and there was this like von of vinegar and soap. Then I was feeling very fagged and fashed by that time and there were these like pains in my gulliver and my keeshka and my rot tasted of the red. After that it got very dark as if it were the nochy, O my little brothers and I dreamed no more.

If I had expected to wake at all, I would have thought I’d wake to a vredded plott and a bolshy great headache, in the old hospital, but I'm feeling right as right, my brothers. And all my lovely old things are here. Perhaps I did snuff it after all… But where then are Bog and all his holy angels and saints? He’d want to viddy my descent to Hell with his own two glazzballs, of that I am sure...

But, if this is not Hell, where then is it that I shall now be laying my gulliver down? My new domy, as it were?

Comments

[spo0kshow-baby.livejournal.com]

You talk funny.

[hologramatic.livejournal.com]

What are you on about?

[tehpeoplespoet.livejournal.com]

Ha! What is this, your attempt at Shakespearean English?

Pathetic!

[i-hate-posses.livejournal.com]

What the hell is this?

[buywithme.livejournal.com]

...

Comrade, do you sometimes find your pen refusing to align letters in the correct order to form real words? From time to time do you realize that you don't actually understand what words are needed to make sentences which accurately express you want to convey? Have you noticed that the imagination you've relied upon to get you through life apparently isn't enough to construct words with a universally understood meaning? Comrade, now is the time to step up and take no hesitation from existence! To set aside the sentimental words that we and our families and our friends have carved out of the verbal fabric of the world, and surpass the childishly individual dialect that will never serve us in a contemporary business and commerce setting! The time is here to take command not of the language that has naively evolved in our personal and backwater suburbs, but rather the gloriously uniform words of the Oxford English dictionary! For only a small, negotiable fee, eight hundred pages of perfectly defined, aligned, and accurately assigned words can be yours! Forever at your disposal for a greater, more specific life of understandable conversation!

[andrew-unwells.livejournal.com]

[ooc: Andrew is trying to figure out if he's speaking in one of those many alien or demonic languages he knows...]

Hey, um... what's your name?