| Friday, August 8th, 2003 |
| 9:56 am |
Jacques: MAKE ME A WRAITH
Damien:::frowns:: BUT YOU ARE A SHINY
Jacques: So I can be a shinywraith!
Damien:YOU ARE TOO OLD.
Damien:YOU MIGHT BREAK OR BE NOT SHINY O_O
Jacques: PLEASE JUST GET ME AWAY FROM THIS FUCKING ELF
Damien:Damien will wage WAR!!! :D
Jacques: JUST MAKE ME A WRAITH. won't I be cute in a wraithcape?
Damien:but the cape will hide your SHINIENESSSSSS
Jacques: I'll leave some facets uncovered
Damien:::ponders:: you will bend to my will? :D
Jacques: YES
Damien:AND HULA?
Jacques: I WILL TRY
Damien:::wraithifys Jacques. apart from one corner::
Damien:O_O
Jacques: o.o
Damien:it no WORKY O_O
Jacques: ...SURE IT DID.
Damien:Daddy says that Uncle Sauron is good at wraithfying ::nods::
Jacques: Try one more time. My mun has a wraith silmaril icon and everything :D
Damien:::thinks very hard::
Damien::D ::sticks little post-it note of power on Jacques::
Damien:Now we have to wait a few thousand years and and and it says in the wraithifying handbook that you should wraithify
Jacques: can I wear the robes anyway?
Damien:YES!
Damien::D:D:D:D
Damien:*dances with his hands in the air* I actually love you very much, daddy, but the constant attention is stifling my creative energy (and the semi-incestous thing you've got going on with my sister, not that I'd ever say a word against you, makes baby Eru cry. So.) leading me to conclude that I must live a life of evil instead. no one ask how I suddenly grew arms for this icon. In conclusion: 
(it's a very small horse |
| Sunday, July 6th, 2003 |
| 7:34 am |
In the latest attempt to free me and Nenya (although daddy's offer of apprenticeship is tempting--WAIT. I WILL NOT YIELD TO MY OPPRESOR! DOWN WITH THE WHATEVER HE IS! DOWN WITH HIM I SAY) I have taken up penmanship. Fly, little bottle, fly!  look at it go! Why's the sky getting all dark? |
| Thursday, July 3rd, 2003 |
| 3:54 am |
Dude. The open sea is boring. Even with my beloved Nenya at my side. So. I decided to take a few vacation pictures of us. First, I tried getting artistic (she said it was an excuse to...nevermind) with this shot:  I am the luckiest silmaril in the world. Just look at her! Those GROOVES. And here we are on Daddy's boat. It's a wide shot, taken via creative use of seagull.  Oh, and this is us landing on shore after we escape from Daddy's controlling ways: 
pity about the glare on Nenya. damnitThat concludes our show :D |
| Saturday, June 21st, 2003 |
| 1:18 am |
Nenya: Is that big scary man hurting you, my dear?
Jacques: He wants to forge me into a girl and he hates my name
Nenya: We'll have to escape when he's not watching, then!
Jacques: Yes! Or he might decide your design needs fixing too
Nenya: *HORROR* Noooo, let's run RIGHT NOW!
Jacques: freeeeeeeeeedom</blocquote> Current Mood: FREEDOM |
| Sunday, June 15th, 2003 |
| 3:34 am |
I'm bored and I miss Nenya. And lo, with missing Nenya, comes limbs. There's a *lot* of twine on board. *swings his sister around at the end of the string and beans another seagull* I AM JACQUES! MIGHTY HUNTER AND GATHERER! |
| Thursday, June 5th, 2003 |
| 12:13 am |
((new human icon! woooo))
It's been a busy couple of days. First, queenie ceased her polishing of me (and she had such a way with a sponge), flung me into the bilge (all because she lost some silly war. I'm SHINY. what's her problem?), and I got eaten by a shark. Let's not talk how I ended up on the shore. So I did the logical thing. I thought Nenya thoughts, kept thinking them and I've been in the bar doing shots ever since. No one has asked me where a naked elf(me) would be keeping his pocketchange. |
| Friday, April 25th, 2003 |
| 12:53 am |
So. Me and my darling Nenya have been together for a very long time. And I noticed yesterday her settings were getting a little, dare I say it, bloated? WE'RE HAVING A SET OF TWENTY-FOUR CARATS! or she might need a serious polishing. |
| Sunday, February 2nd, 2003 |
| 1:23 am |
I appear to have been grabbed. WOE IS ME. |
| Tuesday, December 10th, 2002 |
| 4:41 pm |
Nenya, forgive impure rocky thoughts.
I have been jostled a whole lot. And there's a small horse thing trying to eat me. *is shaken around a bit more* *is wedged down further* ... I always get an altitude headache when this happens. >.> Um. Hello, miss fangirl. Do you have a spare cloak or something? Yes. Thank you. Boy it's cold. Current Mood: naked and cold |
| Monday, November 11th, 2002 |
| 8:11 pm |
My career as a poet is going well. I expect to pen a bestselling collection soon. My first poem to show all of you features my beautiful and delightful metallic circle of delight, my Nenya. Listen to my masterful stylings of Westron and see why I, Jacques, am an example to us all in this wide wonderful world we call Arda. An Ode To NenyaYour sparkly settings Are just ripe for pettings If I had hands that is And when I do You do as well With no settings So no pettings Oh how I love you And your sparkly Jewels My beret sings For my little ring And that was my poem I have no word that rhymes with that |
| Sunday, November 10th, 2002 |
| 3:32 pm |
What is my life, except screamed out philosphy and nights of heated passion with Nenya? Is there no more to me then a touch of wit and a beret? Why was I created, except to shine. What caused a young rock to take up deeper things. Why have I no hobbies except this? Why don't I knit? Play chess? Why is my beret slipping? WHY DO I HAVE NO ARMS? I am...a sensitive young elf trapped in the shell of a rock, forced forever to watch and become bitter. Bitter as only a jewel can. Although the stint as venus eveningstar was pretty cool. I suppose what I, Jacques the silmaril, am saying is simple in the end. I wanna become a poet. Just like my hero, Claude. |
| Saturday, September 7th, 2002 |
| 10:50 pm |
Am on quest to rescue beloved Nenya. She has been kidnapped by soulless she-beast known only to the rest of the world as 'Peter Mansbridge' with me is my faithful manservant Gaav. Say hello, Gaav. We began our quest after Nenya, in a vain attempt to save us from a 'Tang Twister' got me to attract the Mansbridge to us. It ended in blood and disaster. Now I must regain my lost love and SAVE THE WORLD. Or at least Nenya. Forward march, Gaav! And steady on, my beret is slipping. |
| Saturday, August 31st, 2002 |
| 2:49 am |
One day it's all sunshine and daisies and you and your galpal are hanging out with her old owner. Then the owner fucks off to god knows where due to the mun and the Galadriel curse and suddenly you're both stranded. Then you appear on a tv show and achieve worldwide fame. Well, not actually. But damned if my beret wasn't nice and slimming on camera. Nenya looked good too. Then a random stage hands sees you both, puts you in his pocket and the next thing you know you're in the news room and there's a giant redheaded man with gray skin fighting with a terrifying woman and Nenya's making those lovely cooing noises and it just ends badly. We currently reside in the desk of the green-haired one of the unholy trinity that weeps a lot and tries to kill himself with the objects located beside me and Nenya. We are scared. Mostly that we will be the next objects of suicide. Help? |
| Monday, August 19th, 2002 |
| 11:18 pm |
Jacques here with an important announcement. Silmarils can't drown. However, sex in water is an interesting experience. Back to your daily lives. Current Mood: Wet |
| Sunday, August 11th, 2002 |
| 4:20 pm |
|
| 1:04 pm |
Ponderings of a beret-less rock.
Woo doggy. So that's what they're there for. I fiddled with the shiny things on my head for a bit. They were cool. I'd take them off and everything would go fuzzy. But them back on and my nose hurt! Until Nenya moved them up a bit. I'd say more on the rest, but I am a discreet rock. But now I know why I have so many brothers. On a sidenote, returning to a hunk of rock afterwards makes taking a quick escape next to impossible. For some reason I wish I had a phone number. o.O Wish I knew what a phone number was. Ah well. I've lost my beret. This saddens me. *sobs* |
| Saturday, August 10th, 2002 |
| 12:26 pm |
|
| 3:51 am |
I deny the Fifi
So many things to do upon waking up. Twirl mustache. Fantasize about Rufus. Wonder why I'm not with Vaire anymore. Blaming sudden coma on being called 'Fifi'. Well. I'm going to take control of my life! I WILL HOP TO FREEDOM! aaand ungh! yes! movement! Not detectable by any tool known to mankind, but I assure you it occured. Really. Maybe. Damnit. I'll just sit here and think earthquakey thoughts. *thinkthinkthinkthinkthink* Current Mood: I AM JACQUES |
| Monday, August 5th, 2002 |
| 11:06 pm |
I AM JACQUES. Now all I need is a tiny beret! Oh, I'm still kidnapped. Feel free to save me at any time. |
| 10:34 pm |
The pattern is starting again. This will not stand! Actually, it probably will because I the hard piece of stone can do jackshit. Oh well. To entertain you, I will do impressions. Watch carefully... Now I'm limestone! Okay, this one takes a bit of work. Quartz! Applause, spare change, and praise welcomed. Current Mood: creative! |
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