It's Gonna Be A Happy New Year!

Hey! It's New Year's Eve, kiddies!

And, in your honor, a PotJH parody of the Rent Happy New Year song. Why? Because I can. And because something has to keep Mickey happy.

KAT
Now, to the cluttered floor. New Year's brillant eve. The making-resolutions-we-won't-keep party. . .

MICKEY
How long til next year?

GABE
Around forty two minutes. . .

MICKEY
(To Anthony.)
I'm being nice to mices!
I will relax back in school
Cluttered surface or not
This year's been so hot
As long as I've got you
The others are fools. . .

GABE
(Washing the floor.)
I cannot crack the cleaning code, here -
Do we have a gadget to make the mop explode?
It's gonna be a Happy New Year
A Happy New Year!

(Mickey opens a bottle of NAC. Non Alcoholic Champagne.)

BEN
(Entering.)
Commentors - clear -
Mic - you're supposed to be working
(Taking the NAC.)
That's for midnight
Where's Julian?
There isn't much time -

GABE
Maybe they're dressing
I mean, what does one wear that's PotJH-esque
For a party with a group committing crimes?

KAT
(Entering with lunch meat.)
Spam, anyone?

MICKEY
You can take the girl out of Python
But you can't take the Python out
Of the girl. . .

KAT
My Rent got onto your TV -
Treat me like royalty

BEN
Be nice you two
Or no nonalcoholic Champagne

KAT
Don't mind if I do -
(To Gabe, who is still trying futilely to wash the blog floor.)
No luck?

GABE
Cluttered over, chaos - it's a pain!
A total Dead End

BEN
Or Corpse Bride, my. . .friends?

KAT
(On cellular phone.)
Julian. . .?
I know you're there...
Please pick up the phone
Are you coming today?

It's not funny
It's not fair
Well how can Max atone?
Is he okay?

MAX
(On phone, grabbing it from Julian on the other end.)
I lose control
But I can learn to behave
Give me one more chance
Give me a teddy to save!

KAT
(Grumbling at her uncomfy shoes.)
I'll hate these Doc Martens
These rip offs of Doc Martens. . .
(To Julian and Max.)
Do you two have anything to say?

(Julian enters.)

BEN
Looks like things are okay -
Down Kat
Heel. . .stay.

Hope our reputations aren't besmirched
Well, our taxes are all paid -
Brossy, get Max some water,
There's hope
But just in case

MAX
Coke?

KAT
We can make water look fine -

JULIAN
Max will never escape!
He'll get a new hat -

KAT
That's dense.

MICKEY
I can't take you as chums. . .

KAT
Start cleaning. . .wench

MICKEY
Gak!

KAT
I think I should be waltzing
Yet I forget
Forget how to begin. . .

I'm feeling something inside
And yet I still can't decide
If I should hide
Or make a wide open grin. . .

Last year I wanted just to disappear
My life was dust
But now it just might be a Happy New Year!

BROSSY
(Entering.)
Bond - James Bond -

KAT
I thought you were Miss. Galore - In person

BROSSY
(Noticing Max's new diet.)
Kathlyn - you were prepared!

KAT
I was a Brownie once -
And a Boy Scout!
Until my mom got scared!

BROSSY
Aha! Mickey - my martini!

MICKEY
Will nonalcoholic champagne do?

ROGER
That's shaken - not stirred

BEN
Quiet, you dolts!

KAT
Just Say The Word!

GABE
(Frantically cleaning.)
Two minutes left to execute my plan. . .

JULIAN
Where's everyone else?

BEN
Playing Spiderman!

KAT
Ironic end is right
Happy New Year and sleep tight
Once the Kat's out of the bath terror of dog fear is gone
The power mysteriously comes on.

I remain, gentlemen, your faithful and obedient servant,

J.G.

Preesenting. . .

Kat's FictionPress.com page!

Right here!

Er. . .edited because Blogger hates HTML links. Just copypaste, HTML isn't working.

http://fictionpress.com/~elymas

Ember won't stop calling me and playing Annie Lennox lyrics. . .there they are. Anyone have any ideas on getting them out of my head?

Come into these arms again and lay your body down
the rhythm of this trembling heart
is beating like a drum
It beats for you
it bleeds for you
It knows not how it sounds
For it is the drum of drums
It is the song of songs

Once I had the rarest rose
that ever deigned to bloom
cruel winter chilled the bud
and stole my flower too soon
Oh loneliness oh hopelessness!
To search the ends of time
For there is (for there is)
in all the world
no greater love than mine

Still falls the rain
Still falls the rain
Still falls the night

Let me be the only one to keep
you from the cold
Now the floor of heaven is lain
with stars of brightest gold
they shine for you
they shine for you
they burn for all to see
come into these arms again
and set this spirit free .

I remain, gentlemen, your faithful and obedient servant,

J.G.

In The Immortal Words Of Tom Collins. . .

Heh heh. No credit taken for the picture.

Well, Merry Christmas, folks. Kat is a very happy girl today, because she has recieved a scanner. Not to mention a digital camera. There is a God.

My siblings woke me up at five thirty to come downstairs for Christmas. "Bah, humbug," said Kat cheerily. That's the good thing about having li'l tykes around. They make Christmas more. . .Christmasy. That and A Charlie Brown Christmas and also getting a cherryade email in the midst of all this. Ah, bluss. Er, bliss. Well, it's eleven twenty seven now, and Christmas morning is well over and done with, and thusly begins the blog post.

Skirts! Skirts! Skirts! Every year it's the same damn thing! My mother forces upon me - SKIRTS! In the words of Charlie Brown - AAUGH! But this year she finally struck gold. It's a skirt I actually like. (Well, aside from that one black dress she bought be that I wore to "The Drowsy Chaperone," that one time. But I am fond of that one for entirely unrelated reasons.) This skirt is extremely nineteenth century-esque, which is definitely its saving grace. You cannot force me into sparkles or glitter or ruffles. But if it's black and has gothic lace on it, I'm sold. I am a self confessed sucker for gothic lace. And also cravats, but girls aren't supposed to wear those.

Also, earrings from the elephants. When will they remember that my pierced ears closed up last year? Oh well. This things do 'appen, as Carlotta and her doggehs would say. ("Yes, you see, I am goink now, I'm rrreally leeving, eet ees feenished!" Minnie Driver rocks.)

You know what I love? Okay, I'm aware that I have a possibly unhealthy fixation with Peanuts (not the nut, the comic). So my favorite thing on Christmas is having an excuse to get out the Charlie Brown Christmas special and watch it over and over and over and over and over until the VCR breaks. Oh yes. I always - always - tear up when Linus starts reciting the Bible passage.

Erika: You didn't hear that. You will reveal this information about Kat's sentimental side to no one.

Gabe: Kat, are you turning into a marshmallow or something? First skirts, then tearing up at Bible passages. . .what are we going to do with you?

(Silence. Continuing silence. Kat is in a little teary heap on the floor.)

Ben: Um, Kat? Are you. . .

Kat: (At the top of her voice, popping up.) Merry Christmas, B-TCHES!

Ben and Gabe: (Bowled over, Peanuts style. You know, when Charlie Brown goes "AAUGH!" And Lucy goes head over heels? Yeah, like that.)

Mickey: Haha. Sorry about that. It's a Rent reference.

Kat: In the immortal words of Tom Collins.

Lahve you all. May all your Santa outfits be zebra striped.

Quote of the Day

"I always get depressed around Christmas time. I always get a load of stupid dolls and toys. I never get what I really want."

"What is it you want?"

"Real estate!"

- Lucy And Charlie Brown.

I remain, gentlemen, your faithful and obedient servant,

J.G.

'Twas The Night Before Christmas. . .

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the blog
No commentors were stirring, for fear to be flogged.
Like Erik bashers punjabbed with kindness and care,
They knew that the Junior Ghost soon would be there.

The commentors nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Heidi Klum danced in their heads.
And Mickey in her witch hat, and Max in his cap,
Had foregone dreams of Lizzie for a long winter’s nap.

When down in the foyer arose such a clatter,
Ben sprang from his bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window Gabe flew like a flash,
Max opened the shutters and threw up the sash.

The PotJHers stared as the world that they knew
Turned, for the good sake of the rhyme scheme, bright blue
OAYe! What to Mick’s contact lense’d eyes should appear,
But this black guy named Taye, all a-shaking with fear!

And this slightly tall teen girl, with a really big stick,
Max knew in a moment she was not to be licked.
More Random than Arthur the phantom she came,
And she squeed, and she shouted, and called them by name!

"Now Spencer! now, Gabriel! now, David and Nixon!
On, Mickey! On, Julian! On godawful fan fiction!!
To the top of the op’ra! The crowded locker hall!
Now yell OAYe! Yell OAYe! Yell OAYe, all!"

As oddnesses that before the sane personage die,
When they emote with Mizamour, float to the sky.
So up to the opera the phantom she flew,
With the black guy named Taye, and Idina Menzel too.

And then, in a twinkling, Ben heard on the roof
The barking and growl’ng of Obi going woof.
As Gabe drew in his head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney the Junior Ghost came with a bound.

She was dressed all in black, from her head to her foot,
And her jeans were covered with strawberry jam and soot.
The black guy named Taye was flung on her back,
And Idina Menzel was buried deep in the pack.

Her eyes - how they creeped them! her smile how merry!
She drank water from hoses as a child eating cherries!
Her severely smart mouth had near put her on death row,
And she lived on the West Coast and never saw snow.

The stump of a lollipop held tight in her teeth,
And her unbrushed hair circled her head like a wreath.
She had a perky face and disliked the word belly,
And had her grandfather’s fondness for strawberry jelly!

She was not a Legolas fangirl, he was a wimpy elf,
And she laughed when she saw him, in spite of herself!
A wink of her eye and a twist of her head,
Gave Spencer to know they had horrors to dread.

She spoke not a word, nor did her homework,
But she filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
“I hope everyone around here knows,
“Taye and Menzel are for Mickey!” Up up the chimney she rose!

She said goodbye to Taye, who would teach Ben to whistle,
And away she flew, ‘cos Gabe pricked her with a thistle.
But they heard him exclaim, ‘ere she bounced out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"

I remain, gentlemen, your faithful and obedient servant,

J.G.

Writer's Block And POTJHWTBHATIN

It was a dark and stormy night.

For Jacob Baccorat, today was not a special day.

The Opera Ghost was real.

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.

All good opening sentences. All good novels, in three halfs or otherwise. (Except, on both counts, the first one, unless you count A Wrinkle In Time, which used the sentence with a tongue in cheek meaning.) All of which I might use, for fan fic or otherwise. (For the second one, with the author's permission, of course.) And so I, naturally. . .

Have the worst writer's block ever.

Cereal. That's Nancy's word for seriously. So anywho. I am unbelievably bored, 'cos nothing entertaining is happening over here. At all. Most interesting thing that happened all day was Luke chasing me up a tree because I wouldn't write a Star Wars fic. Just for that, I am planning on writing a very graphic ObiWan/Darth Maul.

Brossy and Gabe: (Foam at the mouth.)

Kat: I was joking! Joking! Jeez, Star Wars fans, can't take a bit of kidding. . .

Gabe: Yeah, I was actually planning on a very graphic Erik/Raoul involving bondage -

Kat: KILL! (Attacks.)

Brossy: Point proven.

Damn you all.

Moving on.

Phantom of the Junior High - Where The Bloody Hell Are Those Idiots Now? or POTJHWTBHATIN

Kat - Bored, at home, staring into cyberspace. If any of you feel like dropping an email, I'm online about 85% of the time.

Mickey - Probably at a theatre, watching Rent. Soon to be in NY. Seeing Phantom, the lucky little. . .(Edited for extreme replacement of Fs for PHs.)

Gabe - Getting scuba certified. Hide me.

Ben - In fabulous Las Vegas, Nevada. Scouting out the Venetian for me so I can attack the actors in ninety minute PotO with more dexterity.

Spencer - Somewhere out there in cyberspace.

SP - Presumably, with Ben. But then, you can never be sure.

Julian - Not gone but also not forgotten.

---

Quote of the Day

It was a warm spring night and night had just arrived.

- Link's Queen, Infamous Suethor, or Mary Sue Author

I remain, gentlemen, your faithful and obedient servant,

J.G.

In Which Kat Burns Her Earlobe And The Boys Are Dead

Ow.

I just burned my earlobe.

Erika: Well, that's a lovely way to start a posting.

Kat: But I did.

Erika: That doesn't mean you need to tell all of them.

Kat: Oh, screw you.

Okay, anyway. I did just burn my earlobe. On my father's desk lamp. Oh yes. Well, Rent at Mickey's house tonight. Very fun, I must say. Dancing on the table to La Vie Boheme (no, really) and hanging around making the PotJH gang on Sims. We're not kidding. We actually found a horizontal polo shirt for Ben. Ha. And made Max a child. Oh yes, fun stuff. We didn't make Gabe. I suppose we forgot. You should have cooome.

Kat: (Pokes the Gabimus, Gabibus, Gabatum.)

Gabe: Stoppid.

Ben: Stoppid?

Gabe: I meant stoppit. I think 'twas a typo.

Ben: 'Twas?

Gabe: I would appear, Monsieur, to be absolute, like, miles out of character.

Ben: No, really?

Mickey: Why does Ben get to be in character?

Kat: Ask him.

So, we're finally out for effing winter break! Thank God! And to celebrate, Mickey and I watched Rent. For me, counting the stage show, it was the fourth time seeing it. 'Twas Mickey's fifth. Huzzah. We did dance on the table, lots of fun. Which reminds me - that was the best pizza I've had in forever. Really. I actually didn't gag on the tomato sauce! Where was it from?

This is probably indicative of exactly how interesting my life has been recently, that I'm waxing poetic about pizza.

And. And Ben is sick. And so, apparently, is Max. Because Max flaked on us for tonight. (Ahem, ahem, Mr. B.. What's this?) And so.

Good news. Or possibly not. A Harry Potter fanfic is in the near future. The premise? Harry has a sister, probably not a twin, probably a bit older. Her name? I'm not sure yet. Violet, maybe? I don't know. Harry has a sister, and, wait for it, wait for it, everyone thinks that she is the Girl-Who-Lived, the one who saved the world. How they will take care of the scar problem I'm not sure. I do know that Harry will become friendly with Draco at some point. How will I deal with Draco's racist leanings? Not sure yet. I'm winging it here. I'll need all the help I can get, so my friends, when I post it - which I will - tell me if it's dreadful. And, as it's my first Potter!Fic, it probably will be.

Apart from get well wishes to the PotJH invalids, that's all for tonight.

Looking forward to Tuesday.

Oh, and you heard it here first - Elton John got married, and Johnny Damon is signed with the Yankees.

Max is greiving on both counts.

Quote of the Day

"Holy sh-t! You tried to shoot me!"

- Fellow In A Rosario Dawson Movie

I remain, gentlemen, your faithful and obedient servant,

J.G.

I Say, It's Time For A New Post, Isn't It?

Happy Birthday to David.

Nothing else to say.

NOTHING.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.Nothing.Nothing.Nothing.Nothing.Nothing.Nothing.Nothing.Nothing.Nothing.Nothing.Nothing.Nothing.Nothing.Nothing.Nothing.Nothing.Nothing.Nothing.Nothing.Nothing.Nothing.Nothing.Nothing.Nothing.

I remain, gentlemen, your faithful and obedient servant,

J.G.

The Copy Kat. . .Er, Cat

Hey kids.

Hopefully, your dear little WTF-O-Meters are going off like mad at the moment, and right they are to be doing so. For a Mr. Sam Nachman has taken out dear Max's previous URL! Hallelujah! Brothers and sisters, praise the Lawd!

. . .

Sorry.

Well, Mr. Nachman, I hereby reinforce my earlier remarks to you - findable below, in a locked filing cabinet in a disused lavatory in the basement with the stairs and lights out with a sign on the door saying "Beware of Leopard."

My dear Mr. Nachman, perhaps I can help explain my dear companion's. . .er. . .reaction to your blog. A good friend of ours - one Maxwell B., respectively - recently owned this address. He left it behind, hopefully, to go on to the pregnancy. Sorry - I mean presidency. Unfortunately, he's only thirteen, and acts about two, so. . .it's all good.

Well, my dear Mr. Nachman - please, please, peruse away at my blog, findable at www.phantomofthejuniorhigh.blogspot.com, and have a nice day. Please keep your hands and arms inside the vehicle until it has come to a complete stop. Thank you.

Oh, and a word to the wise, my dear Mr. Nachman - I would add word verification to the comments, as the spam robots just love us blogspot blogs.

And don't worry about me calling you dear - I call everyone that. No, really. Just ask elphie or the ghost host, who, no doubt, will be along in a minute.

Well, provided Ben doesn't make me a liar - Ben, my dear Mr. Nachman, is the ghost host - we have given you an appropriate welcome to the PotJH crew. That, my dear Mr. Nachman, is the name of our little gang. Phantom of the Junior High, you see? PotJH. It's shorter, and has a nice ring. There's a damn lot of us. Shall I tic them off? Okay then, I'll try. . .well, there's obviously Ben, and Max, and Mickey, Gabe, Spencer, Mizamour, Julian. . .and. . .er. . .er. . .Sane Personage. . .and. . .and. . .some others. In any case, we welcome you to our Opera House -

Gabe: Our Opera House?

And remind you that my salary is due. Twenty thousand francs by Monday. Thank you, gentlemen, and have a nice day.

Oh, and drop a comment as you go out.

Quote of the Day

"Could you guys keep going with that?"

- Ella

---

Aaaand now. . .for the grand finale, the Phantom of the Junior High presents. . .Mizamour, Prima Donna of the Opera d'Junior High, Erika the obnoxious anster, and Ely, the cute one, in their rendition of, Enjolras, the Red Vested Revolutionary!

Ely:
You know
Grantaire and
Bousset and
Joly and Feuilly.

Marius and
Jehan
Comberferre and
Courfeyrac.

Mizamour:
But do you recall,
The most famous revolutionary of all?

Both:
Enjolras the Red-Vested Revolutionary
Had a very red vest!
And if you ever saw it,
You would say it was the best.

Erika:
All of the other revolutionaries
Used to laugh and get real drunk.
They made him want to shove himself
Into a sound proof trunk.

Ely:
Then one foggy June eve,
The National Guard came to say,
“Enjolras with your vest so bright,
We’re gonna shoot you down tonight”

Mizamour:
Then Victor Hugo loved him,
And he shouted out with glee,
“Enjolras the Red-Vested Revolutionary,
You’ve made a best-seller out of me!”

(Bows and curtain.)

Other Quote of the Day

"Enjolras the Red Vested Revolutionary is by Gavvie, a fan fic writer, and can be found at this address: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2131846/1/. The J.G. lays no claim."

- Kat

I remain, gentlemen, your faithful and obedient servant,

J.G.

What, Me Lonely?

They're gathered in circles
the lamps light their faces
The crescent moon rocks in the sky
The poets of drumming
keep heartbeats suspended
The smoke swirls up and then it dies

Would you like my mask?
would you like my mirror?
cries the man in the shadowing hood
You can look at yourself
you can look at each other
or you can look at the face of your god

The stories are woven
and fortunes are told
The truth is measured by the weight of your gold
The magic lies scattered
on rugs on the ground
Faith is conjured in the night market's sound

Would you like my mask?
would you like my mirror?
cries the man in the shadowing hood
You can look at yourself
you can look at each other
or you can look at the face of your god

The lessons are written
on parchments of paper
They're carried by horse from the river Nile
says the shadowy voice
In the firelight, the cobra
is casting the flame a winsome smile

Would you like my mask?
would you like my mirror?
cries the man in the shadowing hood
You can look at yourself
you can look at each other
or you can look at the face of your god.

I didn't write that.

Haven't the bloody talent.

I am totally without inspiration.

Have a wonderful life.

Quote of the Day

"Produce the corpse."

- The Dean, Ferris Bueller's Day Off. Very Indicative Of My Mood.

I remain, gentlemen, your faithful and obedient servant,

J.G.

And This Is What Happened While You Were At A Class Meeting, Ben. God, I'm Late To Anthro. . .

In other news. . .

Gabe: This is the story of my life.

Kat: Several little blue and maroon blocks flying around?

Gabe: No. . .

---

New PotJH Catchphrase!

Peace In.

Because we like peace. Which is why we create so much chaos all the time. (Jedi Mind Trick.) The previous sentence makes sense. And you love it. Oh yes.

---

In other news, Mickey has brown hair now.

Ben: She had brown hair before.

Kat: Yes, but it's darker now. . .

---

Kat: Hi Rachel. . .Have you seen Dav -

Rachel: He's behind meee!!!

Kat and Gabe: Ah.

---

The Quote of the Day

"Hello - Ben. It's - three fifteen - and I know this - because of - my new - watch."

- Mr. R., At Ben's Insistence And Reccomendation. Go Figure.

I remain, gentlemen, your faithful and obedient servant,

J.G.

Insomnia.

5:00 AM. I'm still awake. I stare at the blank paper in front of me. I've been trying to draw for an hour. Why is drawing easy in Algebra, and hard when you have all the time in the world? Ben (in my head) tells me to try to get some sleep. I refuse to listen. Sorry, Ben.

7:00 AM. Sun comes up. I close the curtains. I don't want the sun. Happy Saturday.

8:00 AM. I get dressed. I go downstairs. "Hi mom."

"Hi."

Silence.

"Why are you awake so early?"

"Awake? I wouldn't go that far."

"Kathlyn?"

"Ngh?"

"Your shirts on backwards."

I go back upstairs.

10:34 AM. I'm still trying to draw something. All that comes out of my pencil is some joyous anime girl with sparkling eyes. I wish I could burn it. Instead, I tear it up and throw it off the balcony. The dog will eat it. The dog will eat anything.

11:41 AM. I pick up a book. It's not very good.

11:42 AM. I fall asleep. Who says Doug Adams didn't have something there?

12:02 PM. I wake up. Look at the clock. "Hell." I roll out of bed. Aren't I articulate? Happy Saturday, whispers the picture I cut out of a newspaper months ago, the one that hangs on my wall. It's a bagpipe player, bagpiping on a beach, surrounded by surfers. Happy Saturday, I tell the beach bum bagpiper. It's not going to be a good day. I lie on the floor, still in my pajamas, for an hour, staring at the ceiling, occasionally remarking to no one at all that I love the wind.

1:18 PM. I fall asleep. On the floor.

1:23 PM. I wake up. I'm lying on the floor. My cheek hurts. I get up. The carpet has imprinted itself into my face. Brilliant. I look in the mirror. My eyes are bleary and slightly scared. Half my face is red and has ribbed carpet pattern over it. I sigh and drag myself to my feet. Happy Saturday, says the Corpse Bride, from the ad for the movie I have pinned on my wall. I glare at her, and Victor flinches. Happy happy Saturday. I wonder if I am possibly going a bit delirious from lack of sleep. Victor Van Dort tells me I am. If I can't listen to Victor Van Dort, than who?

1:29 PM. Downstairs for the second time today. Go on to the computer. I've got mail. Email from Ben, which is pretty redundant, and from fanfiction.net, telling me I have a fanfic review. I start lauging really hard, because I just got a debate club update. From Emily A.. The way the world works. . .

2:47 PM. I post this.

2:53 PM. I edit this. Jenny has fallen head over heels in love with someone named Will. Blog readers who have known me a really long time enjoy the irony. Jenny is henceforth forbidden to mock my sentimenal teen self.

3:05 PM. I edit yet again to make it clear - Not that Jenny. The other Jenny. Not the Jenny from the same world as Emily. The Jenny in her thirties.

I remain, gentlemen, your faithful and obedient servant,

J.G.