Private to Self, Spinner's End: December 15, 2000
[Private to Self]
God, I hate this holiday.
I hate it.
Really hate this holiday.
Hate. Hate. HatehatehateHATE.
FUCK CHRISTMAS.
...God I really hate it.
Okay, writing "hate" over and over again isn't helping
I don't want to think about it. But they'll all be expecting something... everyone expects something at Christmas. Shit, what do I get Pansy? What do I get her that she couldn't buy herself?
I suppose I do want to get them all something. But I really don't. ...Fuck that makes no sense
Hate. Complete and eternal hate.
[/Private]
[Private to Spinner's End residents]
If you have any compassion for me at all, you'll just tell me what I should get you for Christmas. Something inexpensive, two three galleons at most. Note that by going over that limit your gift runs the risk of arriving to you old and/or used, malfunctioning, incomplete, or as something else all together.
Also note that if you insist I get you nothing for Christmas, you will receive just that.
I'm partaking in the holiday spirit. Take advantage of it. This opportunity may never come again.
-PD
[/Private]