saga/title/fandom:The Private and Personal Journal of Greg Owens
rating/genre:(PG-13) - Gen/Het
warnings: Dubious Content, Adult Humor
summary: The title says it all.
comments/disclaimers: Pitch Black et al are not mine. The idea comes from repetitive readings of the genius that are The Very Secret Diaries by Cassandra Claire, based on Lord of the Rings. I do not apologise for my sorry attempts at humour, but feel free to lynch at will.
Fry picked another ridiculous fight again today. Wish she wouldn't do that when I'm on top, it really throws me off my rhythm.
Had to fight back the laughter when Fry told me about her missing underwear. Manage to sound sincere when I tell her it happens to the best of us. I'm lying, of course, but I've never really forgiven her for the 'astrologer' comments.
Woke to sound of Fry screaming about goats and elves. Tried to calm her down but got a smack in the head for my troubles.
Seems like we've gone slightly off course, if the rapidly approaching planet is anything to go by. Crash landing looks likely, so it's over to Fry to try and save our arses. I only hope and pray she's remembered to take her medication this time. Feel suddenly glad that I went in for testing the company's new body armour range.
Day 152, still
Result! Armour works! Metal rod would have completely impaled me but thankfully has lodged itself with armour meshing. Stuck to seat though, the straps have broken and got tied up around seat handle. Thankfully Fry has found me so she'll be able to cut me loose.
Strange. Keep telling Fry it's the straps, not the handle that needs detaching but she doesn't seem to understand what I'm saying.
Why is she feeding me jellybeans?
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