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Subject:I am Boromir, hear me roar
Time:06:51 pm
Current Mood:crazycrazy
Boromir
is a
Jelly-Eating Zombie Monkey


...with a Battle Rating of 2.1



To see if your Food-Eating Battle Monkey can
defeat Boromir, enter your name:

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Subject:I'm back!
Time:06:56 pm
Current Mood:bouncybouncy
So how is everyone? I've finally recovered from that nasty bout of Orc Flu and figured I'd come back to check up on you lot.
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Subject:I am teh sick
Time:07:20 pm
Current Mood:crappycrappy
I have been dreadfully ill of late.  No, I haven't come down with a case of Boromir disease, but rather a nasty flu. *sadness*

*coughing fit*

So!  That's why I haven't been out to play, guys.  I must say, though, these Houses of Healing -- miracle workers!


I should be better soon.  In the meantime you better send me lots of get well wishes, or I'll havta spank you when I'm back.
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Subject:meme!
Time:04:47 am
I am a tool for doing this, but poor Boromir is an insomniac tonight and has nothing else to do.

:(

survey thingyCollapse )
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Subject:gacked this from gondaft
Time:10:18 pm
What kind of disease are you?

Boromir:

Boromir is caused by monkeys.




Boromir disease causes a constant lack of clothing.
The only known cure for Boromir infection is to become dark lord of the sith, ala Darth Vader.
Name?


Note: should you contract, well, me, please report to yours truly once the lack of clothing symptoms kick in. Thank you.
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Subject:Where f*ck am I?
Time:06:40 pm
Current Mood:confusedconfused
Well I went out for a stroll around the White Wedding Cake City the other day and somehow I seem to have ended up in the Shire ways, judging by all the short and cuddly folk scurrying around. If I remember correctly I had ingested some mushrooms a farmer said came from the Shire -- I probably should have just left them alone, but I was sooo hungry.
When I got to a little town called Bree, I stopped in for a pint in the Prancing Pony and was assaulted by somebody who kept calling me Longshanks? I was very flattered, for I am quite hung, but I swear I'd never seen the guy before and I haven't partied so hard as to not remember one-night-stands in quite a few years.

So I crashed at the Prancing Pony (finally got that creep to quit pinching my bum and stroking the Horn of Gondor) and set off the next morning, still heading west.

I skipped through the pretty woods but started having an allergy attack. Damn pollen. I miss my shield. If I had my shield the pollen would know better than to float around and spread its golden sneeziness around my face.

I tumbled out of the forest covered in brambles and leaves and a few stray hobbit children. "This must be Hobbiton," I thought triumphantly. "I shall pay Frodo and his queer little friends a visit!"

I walked around, covered in leaves and wee hobbit kids, searching for a familiar face of one of the little ones...
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