The Purple Dragon Blog

Also posted at TARDIS Answering Machine Messages

Ninth Doctor: Hello, you’ve reached the TARDIS, we can’t come to the phone right now because… Rose, why are we recording this message? This isn’t even a real phone.

——-
TARDIS: Hello, this is the TARDIS speaking. I suppose you want to speak to the Doctor. The Doctor, it’s always the Doctor. Well excuse me, I’m the one doing all the time-travelling y’know! It’s not like the Doctor can do it by himself! Leave him stranded in Cardiff and precious little time-travelling he’d do then, no! Anyway, leave a message and it’ll eventually get back to big ears once he stops fiddling with my spatial displacement modulation circuits. Probably.

——-
Rose: Mum, if that’s you, you can stop calling now. I’m okay, alright? And you’ve used up all the tape for the answering machine with your forty-seven other messages.
Ninth Doctor: This is why I don’t do domestic.

——-
Ninth Doctor *from afar*: Oi! Mickey! What are you doing?
Mickey: Nuthin, Doctor.
*approaching footsteps*
Ninth Doctor: You haven’t been touching anything, have you?
Mickey: No way, I’m not messing about with any of that weird alien stuff.
Ninth Doctor: Good. I don’t want you stuffing anything up.
*receding footsteps*
Mickey: Hello, this is Mickey Smith. I’m in a time-machine, can you believe that? Anyway, you’ve reached the TARDIS. Jackie, yeah Rose is fine, I’m taking good care of her. Anyone else, leave a message, alright?

——
Rose: Hello, I’m Rose Tyler, and you’ve reached the TARDIS. The Doctor’s not here, I think he must have been eaten by an alien or something. Or else they’re actually old friends he met somewhere like Raxicoricophalovitorius. Oh my God, I think I actually said that right. Anyway, I’d answer the phone, but I tried to do that before and all the lights went out. So leave a message, and I’ll get the Doctor to get back to you when he gets back.

——
Ninth Doctor: Hello, this is the Doctor. Rose, I am not going to come get you. Absolutely not. Nope. I told you this would happen if you went off by yourself, but no, you just had to go off and explore, didn’t you? Well I’m just going to sit right here Rose, and keep on fixing the TARDIS. Maybe Ricky-boy can help you out.

*pause*

Oh, fine, but next time you’re getting out of it by yourself, you hear me?

Take a look at it here.

It’s a copy done in MS Paint of one I drew.

 Moved from somewhere else.

Fringegirl is a cynical, bored seventeen year old girl. She goes to school, occasionally hangs out with friends, and slouches around at home. Her best friend is a strange person named Emma, with wavy/curly hair.

Yes, Fringegirl does bear a striking resemblance to me (’cept I have a nose) and is partly based on me. Many of the events portrayed in this comic are based on real events, like the “Notable Quotes” strips. Others are just strange, random ideas that came into my mind.

Comic One

Sometimes Fringegirl wondered why she bothered coming to class.

Comic Two 

Fringegirl thought that perhaps she meant polio.

Comic Three

Emma’s mind just didn’t work like anyone else’s.

Comic Four

Comic Five 

Sometimes Fringegirl thought that perhaps she should find less eccentric friends.

 Not pictured:

IT TEACHER: Okay, everyone grab a writing stick.

FRINGEGIRL: I think you mean a pencil, sir.

Their IT teacher really needed to get a break from the computer.
 

Moved from somewhere else. Written November 1, 2005

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Ten Possible Ways to Die

Mood:

Uninspired

The idea for this meme came to me when I was reflecting that I’d probably end up dying from eczema if I kept eating chocolate.
Thus, this bizzarre …thing.  Marvel at the weirdness. Ten Possible Ways to Die
(in no particular order):

1. I could run into a wall really fast. (Don’t laugh. I ran into a pole last week, quite forcefully …the inside of my mouth got beat up and it now ulcerated, and my nose is still sore when I touch it. The optometrist says all the study I’ve done has temporarily messed up my eyes.)

2. The computer could electrocute me.

3. My knee could jam while I’m walking down the stairs. (It’s been doing that lately… I have to hook my fingers under the edge of the kneecap and wiggle it. Ugh.)

4. I could strangle myself in the night by falling asleep before turning off my walkman and taking off my headphones.

5. I could catch that incredibly deadly-painful-etcetera-parasite that lives in water that the optometrist told me about when he explained why I shouldn’t rinse my eyes out with tap water.

6. My father could spontaneously do the Darth Vader telekinetic-throttling-thing because I drove him to the edge.

7. I could fail my exams and commit hara-kiri.

8. I could bleed to death from severe eczema. That’ll teach me to eat things that give me that particular allergic reaction. *stares at red hands balefully* Huh. I refuse to stop eating chocolate.

9. Two words: sleep deprivation. I hate school term. And insomnia.

10. Random axe-murderer.

Moved from somewhere else.

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When I was fourteen, I was very lax about doing homework, particularly in Religion classes, which I was failing out of sheer boredom. (They consisted entirely of very boring Catholic history.) Therefore my irritated teacher told me to write a page entitled, “why it is important to hand in homework.” Believe it or not, I actually had the breath-taking stupidity to hand the following piece in. Thank God my teacher had a sense of humor. The next year instead of continuing to take Religion classes I was able to switch to Religion & Philosophy, the advanced class, where I got top marks.

WHY IT IS IMPORTANT TO HAND IN HOMEWORK

Ninth September, 2002
It is important to hand in homework for many reasons. One that many people appreciate is so that you do not have to write about why it is important to hand in homework and about writing why it is important to hand in homework…
Another reason is that by handing in homework you can show you absorbed some information in class and didn’t go into a coma or read romance novels under the desk, or even draw moustaches on photographs of nuns in booklets about the Catholic Church.*

You may also stir your mind into thinking vaguely,
“Hey… what’s a Catholic?” which is a very good start, and even get onto more complicated questions like “why do priests have beards?” so that you can write a completely illegible and bewildering essay for some poor teacher who fantasises about being an accountant. This illogical piece of work will convince them to quit their job and make a lot more money than they do now, doing them a good turn.

You also do not have to write about homework when you would much rather be shoplifting or jumping off balconies dressed as Superman.** At such times you find the subject of homework very irritating.

However, the most important reason is so that teachers do not ask your parents about why you have to nurse your mother back to health every afternoon (leaving no time for homework) and that way you won’t be grounded for an entire year and have your pocket money cut off.

These are the best reasons I can think of as to why it is important to hand in homework.
* Two of my classmates did this last thing. Since we had to hand the booklets back in, they were kind of risking trouble.
** One of my friends elder brothers did this at one stage. He nearly broke both legs. I found this act sufficiently inspiring that I put it in here.