Recordings [Lorraine Irving]

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Recordings [Lorraine Irving]

on July 21, 2009, 03:51:37 PM

lorraine irving

private property of



bored holes through our tongues
to sing a song about it;   held our
breath for too long  ‘til we’re half
sick about it      [do not enter]




Last Edit: March 13, 2010, 04:12:25 AM by Laney Irving

Re: Recordings [Lorraine Irving]

Reply #1 on June 24, 2010, 02:19:21 PM

december 2008

Dear Virginia,

Or should we call you Neglect? I apologize for not writing so much (not really... it's a silly thing to apologize for, but you do have my mother's name, and so I feel slightly obligated, lest I let Olive win.) I do have a good reason for staying away for so long. Really. Malynda and I have been scooped up by professional teams. I loved the look on Basil's face when he found out. Dad's was even better. But none of them could top Olive, who looked as if I'd told her she'd have to burn all of her dresses and never wear anything but a pair of men's trousers for the rest of her not-so-glamourous life.

The poor dear.

Apparently George got in a bit of trouble for a few compromising mementos. Some people steal all the fun. Oh, well. He'll learn once he's graduated that there's more to life than kinky library time. Like kinky bookstore time. (Not that I would know. Yet.) The people you meet in bookstores... I have to give them credit, all those dusty shelves. They really know how to draw in the eye candy, don't they? Just the other day, I met the most peculiar (ly adorable) victim man. Very naive for his age. Just how I like them. Ready to be corrupted.

I'll write more later, Virginia. I miss you. I'm Flooing off to the east this weekend for a pre-holiday match.

Laney.

Re: Recordings [Lorraine Irving]

Reply #2 on January 17, 2011, 09:48:57 PM

february 2009

Dear Virginia,

Clinton has returned the mystical land of Gold-Digging Child Brides and Cigar-Toting Tourist Guides. He is now crashing in my living room and teaching an insufferable muggle art known as "Yoga." He thinks I'm going to pay (h i l a r i o u s) to attend one of these lessons and turn myself into a Ton-Tongue Taffy in front of fifty out-of-shape losers. Because he pays me so much rent, Virgie.

Not.

But I could at least offer him a proper bed.

I'll probably go. I am his sister. Merlin, I can't even admit this in my PRIVATE DIARY without crossing it out. It's all your fault, Virginia.

Let's see... pending photoshoot for Quidditch Illustrated, still haven't been laid by the scruffy book hunter, and I'm going to kill Basil via owl if he tells one more douche where I live.

Laney.

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