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Dum dee dum dee dum [11 May 2003|02:29am]
[ mood | busy ]

::sits down to scribble several copies of a note on Sauron's "picture of an eye declare!" memo pad::

Dear Sauron,

Hi, honey! If you're reading this, you must finally be out of the bathroom. I picked up some extra towels at the RohirriMart for you, should you run out cleaning up; they're on the couch. I'm running off for a while, so if you need someone to order takeout or something, I've put Jeff on call 24 hours. Also, I'm taking the purple uzi with me. Just in case.

(a sticker)

Love, GB

::leaves notes in several conspicuous places around the house; stuffs a few in Sauron's coat and pants pockets::

He'll find one in a month or so.
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Oh, FINE. [09 May 2003|06:29pm]
[ mood | frustrated ]


You spend a few months away from the computer building a hospital and what happens? Your husband starts inventing affairs between you and one of your candy stripers so he can chase after another married man. This wouldn't be a problem, except for the fact that he's so busy playing with my makeup kit that I am not getting laid. Sauron is preoccupied and pickings are slim in Barad-dûr. If you're picky about orc sex, anyway. Which I am. They killed me once. On my husband's orders, yeah, but having sex with more than one of your previous murderers is just overdoing it.

Sure, there's Jeff, but have any of you SEEN Jeff? Of course you haven't. He wears a paper bag over his head. I made the mistake of having lunch with him once. He spilled Snapple on the bag and had to change it. Saw his face. My brain boiled. Seriously, I'm a water-thing, I do that, and it ruined my perm.

So. Let's just get right down to it.


Come now, don't be shy! I used to have a waiting list, but I think everyone on the list retired while I was busy being married or absent. Whatever! You know you want to. I have a great rack. Male, female, I'm not picky so long as you don't have a tail. No, you're not guaranteed to get laid, but I'll give you a pair of Sauron's lacy panties or a popsicle as a consolation prize if you don't.

Maybe I should start a rock garden or something.

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Maiahood = superfast bricklaying skillz. [29 Apr 2003|11:35pm]
[ mood | complacent ]

[Note: This is an old post that never went through, and I somehow got it into my head that I had put it up later. I just checked this after seeing Sauron's reappearance, and... oops. Uh. This isn't actually a reaction to his last post. Seriously. I have another puppet dealing with childbirth, I would not bother to write this that quickly. It's been living in a notebook for a long time. :)]

I think Gorth has evil block. Not that he'd ever admit it, but he's been hunched over his Sons of Gondor Trapper Keeper notebook for weeks, chewing on his pen cap and sweating blood. (I'm assuming it's an evil Vala thing.) He hasn't even filled out many crossword puzzles lately. Poor baby.

Manwe made me a Maia recently, which made the construction of the hospital run much more smoothly. I finished it myself in a single afternoon. The East wing is still unfurnished, but we've moved in about half of the resident waiting list. I never realized how many manic depressive hobbits there are in Middle-earth. But most of them seem to have Gamgee blood in them, so I guess it's to be expected.

Our first specialized treatment seminar went rather well, focusing on individuals driven into depression and substance abuse by their lives as footnotes. The circle of sobbing Numenoreans was both moving and mildly disturbing, as they mourned not knowing the key combinations for the fruity accents in their names and passed around thermoses of laced coffee. We had to end the session when they started a Jefferson Airplane singalong, but hey, baby steps.

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It's late, but my fax machine was broken. [31 Mar 2003|11:53am]
[ mood | awake ]

Part A: The most important questions. Spell everything correctly.
What Is Your Name?: Goldberry of Mordor
What Is Your Quest?: To medicate Middle-earth.
What Is Your Favorite Color?: Green and blue.

Part B: Useless Things I'd Like To Hear Your Useless Opinions On.
I miss Varda's voluptuous breasts, how about you?: I miss Varda in general.
Should Irmo take his hand off my ass? Please explain: No, it brings out the green in your eyes.
Have any idea how I got into a truckload of oranges?: The disorder known as the "munchies" is a dangerous and unpredictable thing.
What pair of Namo's glasses are your favorite?: The purple cat eyes. Especially when accompanied by the matching boa.
What is your reason for wanting to be a power hungry greedy bastard with immortality?: My husband is a Vala now; I'd like to be a legitimate Maia to balance things out. I'd also like the fully developed ability to cause hurricanes.
I think people should keep out of my stash, don't you?: Certainly.

Part C: I give you a word. You tell me what you think of.
necrophilia: Elladan's cryogenics lab
herpes: helmets
Erendis: boobs fencing lessons
castration: Faramir 1 alone with my husband :)
Goldberry: uh... splish splash, hello
leopard print: Sauron's thong
screwing horses: Saturday night in Rohan
everyone will suffer: Horn of Gondor

Part D: Congratulations, you have now sufficiently disgusted me. However, this is your final moment to redeem yourself. Answer with at least 5 sentences.
What do you think about me?: You were very polite when you were sober during my visit. You were quite amusing when you weren't. You and your wife are very pretty. Your hair should be worshipped. The end.
If Glorfie Stardust walked into a room and played guitar, what would you do?: I would check for any ducks or hats on his person. Then I would ask him to put the guitar away so we could begin. He would be reluctant. He would then sit on the couch and talk for just over an hour, because the words "Time's up" mean nothing to him. Then I would give him a bill.
What if Celeborn killed you in the above scenario?: Not that he would, but I would be stuck on the banks of the Withywindle for 1,000 years. When I returned, I would tell him that he could have signed up for a deferred payment plan, then kill him. Twice. And increase his therapy charges. He would probably apologize.
Describe Namo: I've only met him once. He came over to your house with his wife. We were all drunk. He did a striptease. Took everything off but the glasses.
Tell me a story: Once upon a time, a pretty young girl who lived in a... um... pond was playing in some very tall grass. A man named Bom Tombadil came and gave her a cup of tea. The tea was heavily drugged, and Bom did unspeakable things while it took effect. He did this often, but not always with tea. He was a tricky bastard. Finally, he kidnapped the girl and "married" her. The girl got used to it, and was almost happy for a while. But then, a very large and hairy man in another world made a movie that Bom was left out of, and Bom started drinking even more than before. After thousands of years of living with him, the girl finally left, because she was tired of having retarded yell red boots thrown at her. She went off and lived a life of her own, and eventually remarried to the second greatest evil in the known universe. She was much happier this time, and no one threw shoes, unless they were asked. The moral of the story is: Figures of so-called natural, ineffable goodness are sneaky fucks, and evil beings are much better in bed. The end.

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Happy birthday to meeeee. [10 Feb 2003|12:48am]
[ mood | complacent ]

My birthday was three days ago. My son gave me chocolates, introduced me to his girlfriend, Gladys (whose name used to be Jeff), and told me that he might be gay because his father failed to give him enough love as a child. I reminded him that he was only a child for a few weeks, and that his father is in fact an iconic figure of evil! florists. He seemed satisfied with that.

Sauron gave me a new towel and finished a crossword puzzle.

[My one-year anniversary was on Feb. 7. My other once-upon-a-time main puppet, Glorf, turns 1 as a character on Valentine's Day (disregarding the fact that the journal has moved). God, it's been a while.]

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Because I know you're dying to see him-- [06 Dec 2002|04:59pm]
[ mood | aww ]

Here's a Polaroid I took of Rufus Manwë yesterday. He looks a lot like someone I've met before, but I haven't quite figured out who yet.

Isn't he cute? :)

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I'm a mommy. Hmm. [06 Dec 2002|02:29am]
[ mood | confused ]

Well, I had a baby last week. This answers everyone's questions about the reproductive capacity of water-things when matched with evil previously-disembodied Maiar, I guess. I didn't even know I was pregnant right up until I was ready to deliver.

Sauron was feeling down that day. He'd just watched Bambie for the first time, and was still upset over Mama Bambie's death. Ever seen a teary-eyed dark lord pretending to fill out a crossword puzzle with grim determination? It's heartbreaking. So, I went to the kitchen to make him some chocolate chip pancakes. They never fail to cheer him up, especially when I use round cookie cutters to cut holes in the centers. Ring-shaped, y'know. Anyway, it was, to my knowledge, the first time I've ever actually been barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen. Hehe.

It was then that I first started to feel odd little pains in my stomach. I thought it was just the chalupa dinner from the night before. (Our kitchen is, for the most part, ornamental.) Granted, it was a bit unusual, seeing as the only times I'd been sick before had been through contracting a gender-switch virus or somesuch, but I didn't think much of it. The pain got gradually worse over the next few hours, and then I noticed the swelling. Oh god, the swelling. My stomach, bulging to unprecedented proportions. That was the most horrifying experience of my life, and I've lived with Tom Bombadil. We finally went to the hospital.

Sauron and the doctor on duty argued loudly in the next room while I laid in compromising positions on what looked like a medieval torture device being used as a table of some sorts. The doctor, who insisted I call him "Jeff", kept waving around X-rays and test results in a manilla folder and insisting that "the tests don't lie", while Sauron kept waving around a fiery torch and insisting Jeff was "full of shit" and a "motherfucker". No one bothered letting me know what the hell was going on until it finally occurred to my darling husband that I was still there.

After a while, who was a motherfucker became a moot point, because the Baby Inexplicable was coming, whether or not Dr. Jeff was full of shit.

I won't go into detail there.

I can't; I demanded the strongest drugs they had as soon as they clued me in. (Water-things don't respond well to drugs, everything gets diluted. >_< Still, I managed to get nice and drugged out of my mind.) The next thing I knew, I was wrapped up all nicely in a hospital bed, and they were bringing to me a bassinet containing the most beautiful baby boy in the world. He has his daddy's hair colour and, thank the Valar, my eyes. :) After severe shock and some deliberation, Sauron and I decided that we were happy. Really fucking incredibly beyond confused, but happy. We named him Rufus Manwë.

Then he aged like 25 years in a matter of days. Apparently this is normal for newborns around here. Go figure. He has his own apartment and works at a bookstore now. I hear he's well on his way to becoming an established slut. This somehow results in his being able to get me really great discounts when we go shopping together.

That's my baby.

18 comments|post comment

Flower time. [29 Oct 2002|11:24pm]
[ mood | curious ]

::throws the bouquet::

::watches it hover in mid-air for several seconds, surveying its victims::

::watches it plummet to earth, headed straight for......::

2 comments|post comment

[29 Oct 2002|10:19pm]
[ mood | enthralled ]

The masses have spoken, and the masses are a bunch of dirty-minded bastards. This explains the ice sculpture on the buffet. Therefore, since it took a lot less time than I thought it would to get, er, dressed, we're just waiting for Sauron to finish adjusting his flowers.


Awwwwww, cute. OK, HERE WE GO. Someone get the tape deck ready, the organ player passed out in the living room. Knew it was a mistake to serve drinks an hour before the ceremony. Where's the hamster? Let's get this started.

::bounces around briefly, waits for the music::

......... Sons of Gondor wasn't exactly the music I was referring to, but... whatever. Let's go.

::starts down the aisle::

130 comments|post comment

Ok, well. [29 Oct 2002|09:22pm]
[ mood | giggly ]

There seems to be no end in sight to the debate between my future husband, my mother and I over what I should wear to the wedding, so I'm leaving it up to public opinion. This will only be effective for a short while, as the wedding is starting... um, soon. Anyway... The first outfit is my mother's choice. She designed it herself. Be kind. The second is what I picked out myself, but Gorth is insisting on a third option, my "towel dress". It's Vera Wang, damn it, the terry cloth is incidental. But anyway, the dress was destroyed by Gorth's kitten months ago. The third option presented in the poll is the next best thing.

Vote, damn it.Collapse )

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pointless OOC [16 Oct 2002|03:58am]
Wow, a heterosexual wedding. The mun is a little overwhelmed by this idea... no conflict over who's going to wear the dress, who's given away at the altar, who throws the bouquet... o_____o My MESPT-honed instincts are screaming in confusion. My only solace are my thoughts of a hamster officiating.
3 comments|post comment

warning: excessive use of overexcited emphasis ahead [16 Oct 2002|12:26am]
[ mood | jubilant ]


I am now the second person (**) in Middle-earth to experience the privilege of hearing a Dark Lord stumble through a marriage proposal. It was so cute I thought I would die. Heeheeheeeee. Friends and assorted orcs and my mother have asked all the clichéd "So when're you two tying the knot blah blah blah" questions, but I never thought that the evil! former enemy and current pizza/real estate provider of the free peoples of Middle-earth would ever actually propose. ::GLEE::

samwisegamgee and frodooftheshire must at least put in an appearance at the wedding, since the two of us met at theirs. :D

EEEEEEEEEE!!!!! I haven't been this happy since my divorce in a long time. :D:D:D

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boom [15 Oct 2002|07:20pm]
[ mood | somewhat dusty ]

Note to self: Hiring untrained orcs for construction of large buildings is a bad idea, no matter how much money the board of directors claims it would save.

The whole damn frame for the Mordor Mental Health Institute collapsed. While I was in it. >__< Fortunately, I was talking about the plans for the lobby with a nice orc named Jeff at the time, and he managed to block some falling beams from squishing me into a puddle. It took over a week to dig ourselves out, and we survived on Cheeto bits and Aquafina retrieved from a basement vending machine. Sauron was apparently unaware of the collapse because of... something involving pink flowers. I'm not sure, I only know what I heard fourthhand from what Varda told me s/he heard from Manwe, who heard it from Vana. Probably has to do with some new section of the Mordor Botanical Gardens... the existence of which I'm still getting used to. You do learn to like the barren wastelands, after all.

I found a note from Gorth on the door of my office on my way up through Barad-dur, but it looks old so there's a good chance he's finished several more crossword puzzles since then. Hmm.

::shakes hair a little, chokes on dust:: I need a handywipe.

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Return [04 Sep 2002|05:08pm]
[ mood | relaxed ]

I'm back. Again. The doorknob fell off of the hallway facing side of the bathroom door, and I was stuck in there all summer while Gorthaur scampered around Paris and Mount McKinley looking for me. Somewhere in mid-August (I think), I remembered that I'm more than a retired therapist and evil overlord's sextoy, I am a water-thing. And as a water-thing, I have water-related powers. So I got in the bathtub, turned on the faucet and slipped through the drain. I traveled around in the pipes for what felt like a few days before finally coming out of a drainpipe somewhere in Rohan. I was picked up, wandering around naked and confused, shortly thereafter, and put in a mental institution.

Incidentally, seeing as I was the only therapist in Middle-earth for quite some time, they recognized my name and face (from the MESPTv ads) and, seeing as the institution was in Rohan, the doctors needed more therapy than the patients. In the end, I spent most of my time providing free counselling to the staff and giving seminars on how disemboweling patients and declaring war on the nations of their birth are not effective treatments for manic depression and schizophrenia.

Then I came home, went to the bathroom, and met Sauron on the way out the newly repaired door.

"So THAT'S where you've been."

"Um, yeah. Where've you been? And when did all those flowers pop up in the wastelands?"

"Around. And some crazed Vala did it. Traumatized half my minions."

"Oh, okay. I've made arrangements with a Rohirrim mental health organization to open up my own branch clinic in Mordor. Trauma is good for business."

"I honestly never thought I'd hear the words 'Rohirrim' and 'mental health' in the same sentence. You can use that big black building in the back if you want. The one with all the little turrets."

"Great, thanks."

"I finished 20 crossword puzzles while you were in there."

"Well, then, we have catching up to do."

Three days later, I'm back.

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In which Goldberry retires [28 Jun 2002|03:06am]
[ mood | determined ]

Enough of this. I'm only huma--- er, water-spirit quasi-Maiar-type-species-thing. Point is, I have my limits, and I've reached them. Do you have any idea what it's like to be a therapist in MORDOR?!

Four words for you: orc. primal. scream. therapy.

I don't get paid enough. I could never charge enough. Never. Sauron suggested the treatment when the sulfur and ammonia aromatherapy idea failed to raise morale amongst his troops lackeys troops. He'll be paying penance for months.

I'm through. No more. I'm inches away from throttling Jeff the temp receptionist. My goldfish, Rocco, keeps complaining about the wallpaper. (It's a rented office, the wallpaper is out of my hands, damn it!) And finally, this job is really cutting into my time-wasting time.

The doctor, my friends, is most definitely OUT.

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[12 Jun 2002|04:14am]
[ mood | confused ]

ahahaha ok i am really confused. where the f*ck am i and where is my mom? i'm sort of glad that mr. bombadil isn't here because sometimes i wake up in the middle of the woods after he's given me tea or something and when i open my eyes he's standing around with a weird smile on his face that is really freaky let me tell you. but this isn't the forest because the trees are totally different and the water around here doesn't even look like me so they're probably distant cousins or something and i don't even know how i got here! if mr. bombadil brought me here mom will be really mad.

for right now i'm going to make necklaces with this guy elrohir that i met and some other girl. i will ask around the lakes and stuff to find out where i am later.

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House calls [11 Jun 2002|02:21pm]
[ mood | busy ]

At about 7 AM yesterday, Jeff the temp receptionist and I were sitting in the lobby going over the day's schedule. The phone rang. "Goldberry. Call for you."

I was idly scratching notes onto a clipboard at the time. Distractedly, "Hmm? We're not open yet."

"It's from Númenor, one of Elrond's boys."

"Must be staying with family. Elrohir or the older one?"

"I don't know."

"All right." I stood up, still flipping through notes, heading towards the frosted glass door. "I'll take it in my office." Picked up the receiver, examining the nails on my free hand. "Hello? Hi, sweetie, I knew it would be you." Smiling into the phone. "Yes? I heard about that, I'm glad she got back safely." Fell silent, listening, smile vanishing. "Oh... I'm so sorry. ... Me? No, no, I'm fine. How are you holding up? ... Of course. ... Well, yes, of course I am, but so much has happened...... So do I, but he was in Iceland for most of that time, remember? ... Yes. .. No... let's not talk about it right now. ... All right. Yes, thank you. I wouldn't want to find out about it from the papers. ... Mmhmm. All right, sweetheart. Is your mother...? I see. Ok, talk to you later. Yes, see you then. Bye bye." Hung up, left forgotten notes on my desk and took the winding staircase up into the chambers of Barad-dûr.

Two separate calls from Celeborn and Glorfindel were diverted upstairs from the office later that night. Sauron came in while I was packing. Asked if something was wrong.

"I'm going to Númenor to see Celebrían. Her father... er, fathers called and asked for me, and it's easier for me to go there than for them to bring her here. I'll be back in a few days."

"What happened this time?"

Elia materialised and wound around my ankles. "Elrond's s..." I picked up the cat and fed her a strip of dried orc. "Elladan committed suicide."

"Oh. .... This is death #2 for him, isn't it?"

I put the cat down, cleared my throat and snapped the suitcase shut. "Yes."

Sauron absently played with my hair while I put away the luggage keys. "How did he do it?"

"....... tied himself up in the fetus bag Faramir used for his therapy 3 or 4 months ago and threw himself in a river."

"That kid had no sense of irony."


"Are you ok?"

"Of course I am. I don't know why you're even asking." Quick kiss. "I have to go now. Wait until I get back to exact revenge from any closed branches of Mordor Pizza Express, would you?"

"That's just not funny."

"Heh heh. Sorry."

Eärwen, you seem to be under a lot of... stress. Take a long vacation. Let the temp take care of the office. I'll be gone until Friday.

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::blink:: [04 Jun 2002|02:45pm]
.... I am very disconcerted.

Hi, Mom.

As I said with Tom... I suppose it was inevitable. It seems she learned the common tongue from a dictionary Tom chucked into the river. That's nice, it should make ordering pizzas easier for her.

People sometimes mistake Mom and I for sisters. Note the pretty water-thing family resemblance:

OK, so there isn't much of one. Oh, well. Yay. I have family online now.
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::shudder:: [23 May 2002|12:00pm]
[ mood | disturbed ]

OK, 'oh man didn't canon suck'-post soon to come, but first, I have to point out how disturbing I find this since everyone seems to have overlooked one minor detail.

Look closely at the picture. Notice anything unusual or exceedingly creepy?
Anything at all?Collapse )

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Recap [19 May 2002|07:09pm]
[ mood | confused ]

Things that happened to me that I don't feel like writing about because it's been too long:

Mordor was wrecked and Sauron skirted off to Valinor. I went to Bree for a while to check up on people.

Lúthien died. Like, died-died. The real kind, where you don't come back. At least for a few months, anyway. I was upset. I wasn't in her original will, which didn't bother me because I assumed it was just for family members. But she wrote me in later, and left me her new bathroom set. I was deeply moved. I took a bubble bath and cried.

Celeborn got married to Glorfindel. I'm so proud of Celeborn. He's come a long way from his "disgusting males" and backpedalling days. Elrohir was in fits. I'd never seen him so excited. We picked out his outfit for the wedding. Never underestimate the power of a really cute elf in a bowtie and top hat. Celebrían and I demanded fifteen minutes of fawning time before we let him go to the service. Eehee.

Afterw--..... ::pause:: ..... um. I... What was I... ........ Where.....

I was just........ Who... .......

Where is Tom?

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