Captain Fuckin' Magic

Hey all! Just post here if you need to reach me and I'm not on AIM, or if you've got an issue with how I'm playing Harry over here! Anon is on, but all comments are screened, sorry!

First of May, First of May
Outdoor fuckin' starts today
So bring your favorite lady
Or at least your favorite lay

Well, how about it, Dramadramaducketeers? Are you enjoying your First of May the, you know, proper way? Make sure to watch out for ants, though, because getting fucked isn't worth bug bites. You know, unless you're into that sort of thing, and hey, who am I to judge?

Okay, I've had about fucking enough of this virus. Or whatever the fuck it's called I really...don't give a damn, not any more, okay? It's really, really fucking embarrassing to blabber on and on and I know I do it all the time, but usually it's pointless crap everyone ignores anyway. But no, not today. Today I get to tell people in the waiting room that I'm just playing solitaire and make an even bigger ass of myself, but, you know, I'm used to it. Oh, and I basically wound up playing sob story before, which was absolutely not fun and no I do not want to talk about it now. But, well, this damn thing is probably going to make me--

This was so much better when it was a shitty movie. Okay, okay, not shitty, it was pretty funny, actually, but it's not fucking funny now, so I'll just be here on the laptop and count down until it's fucking over.

So. Tax day comin' up, for all you unlucky bastards living in the USA. Me? I'm fucked. Oh, sorry. I mean screwed. See, for the last five years or so? I was, you know, technically self employed. Sure, I'll go with that. But anyway, for those last buncha years? Guess who never got one of those handy little slips telling you to put down what you got paid this year? I don't know, what are they called, W-2s? Something like that, sounds like a failed droid from Star Wars.

This year? I have a job, like, a job that pays enough so the government'll notice and tax the hell out of it. Like, a real job, with a nice little slip of paper that reminds me of the kind they, you know, used to send you when you're in trouble at school. Well, fuck, I hope this doesn't get me in detention. Anyone know what half the words on this form actually mean, or do I just have to swing for it and hope I cross my T's right?

Oh, btw, Alice? Are you still hanging out around here? You all right?

Okay, so, apparently this place turned into a weird version of Old McDonald, or something, because seriously? What's with all the animals? And animals that are typing, too? Last time I checked, goats couldn't type. Chew on cans, sure, fine, but type? Yeah, sure, and the Pope's secretly from Jupiter. I mean, I've heard of those monkeys that you put in a room and you wind up with the Magna Carta, but fuck, isn't this going overboard a little?

Oh, and by the way? It's not much of an April Fool's prank if you have to fucking tell someone they're being pranked. People need more imagination these days, seriously, and I'm not even talking about those movie scripts. You know, for the thirteenth fucking remake of Planet of the Apes, or something like that.

First day of Spring's today. You know, happy bunnies bouncing around, except there are none out here, unless you count the wannabe Playboys. You know, robins and flowers and scenes right out of Bambi, except there's no cartoon deer around here and the Robins are all on their third dye job. But, you know, it's Spring, which means it should be bright and sunny and green and whatnot, except I can't tell, because I've been on my knees with the windex, battling dust bunnies for the last three hours. Spring Cleaning mode is in full effect. If anyone's planning on hiring Centurion Inc. today, please don't track mud through the new carpet, thank you.

Oh. And I apparently know Captain America. Um. Yes. It's totally not important at all, and I'm totally not wondering if Super-man'll show up here minus a cape. Seriously, I thought all of you were just really pathetic Cosplayers who got lost on the way to San Diego. But. I met Captain America. And I showed him a stupid macro, too.

So, in case your hangovers made you forget everything in the last twenty-four hours, and if they have, dude, seriously, you don't have to drink the entire keg, but anyway, yesterday was St. Patrick's day. I know, I know, how utterly shocking, it's the same day every year, we'd never know it if it weren't for the millions of drunk people parading in the street like drunk green Smurfs. Oh, by the way, if you happened to be celebrating public drunkenness in L.A. yesterday, one of you triple parked in front of the office. Might want to watch out for that, because I don't think the cops were amused.

Me? I was celebrating private drunkenness, which, you know, is a much better deal in the end. Happy St. Patrick's day, to one and all.

( Cut for length and serious business )

If anyone has any issue with any of this headcanon, or any feedback on what can be added or changed, please let me know! Feedback is love!

So, you know how everyone was spending all of yesterday telling me this place is real? Like, this isn't just people dicking around on their lunch break, like I am? Yeah, well, I kind of figured that out on my own, thank you, and your fruit baskets are in the mail. I mean, you know, I didn't get kidnapped or stuffed into a cannon and shot, but it was close enough, message received, this place can really fuck you up.

Harmony? What the fuck?

ETA: Or whatever, seriously. Fuck the whole thing, it's not even a big deal. I mean, what is this, high school? Really, it's fine, it's not even like, important to anyone else here, so you can all go back to your day and ignore this bullshit, enjoy the veal.

Character: Harry Lockhart, aka The Amazing Harold or Harold the Great

Fandom: Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang

Character Notes:

( History )

( Personality )