( I'm going down in a blaze of glory... )­

What does a wizard have to do to get six weeks of bedrest? A witch has to be up the duff with 32-week twins. I'd like to shoot for something less back-breaking, but with the same amount of food and pampering.

Bloody hell. That diaper must have weighed half a stone. I've never been more proud.

What's the greatest thing in life, you think? I think the answer is SPERM.

YOU WANT KNOW WHAT'S ANNOYING? NURSES. I CAN BLOODY WELL WRITE IN MY JOURNAL IF I WANT TO.

YOU WANT KNOW WHAT HURTS? GARGOYLES FALLING SMACK ON YOUR HEAD. I DON'T RECOMMEND IT. I REALLY DON'T.

YOU WANT KNOW KNOW WHAT I HATE? EARTHQUAKES. FUCK 'EM.

AND WHILE WE'RE ON THE SUBJECT OF EARTHQUAKES

WHERE THE BLOODY HELL ARE MY WIFE AND GNOME?

This bleeding desk work is bloody boring. You want to know what else is bloody boring? Dodderidge's jokes. Honestly, I fell asleep during the last one -- right smack in a pile of site reports. I think I may have drooled a bit, too.

Today is the day that everyone on the face of this giant rock should be celebrating because today is the day that the most beautiful, kind, and fitter than fit fit fit goddess I am blessed to call my wife who is known to us mortals as simply Julia Bethany Kirke was born to the Joneses twenty-seven years ago.

ARE YOU CELEBRATING? I DEMAND TO SEE SOME BLOODY CELEBRATING. AND THERE BETTER BE FUNNY HATS. AND PIE. MAKE HER PIE, DAMN IT. YOU DON'T WANT TO KNOW WHAT MY ATTEMPT AT A PIE WOULD LOOK LIKE AND I'LL NEED BACKUP SINGERS. SOMEONE NEEDS TO SING OVER THE GNOME AS SHE BABBLES SOMETHING NOT QUITE LIKE THE HAPPY BIRTHDAY SONG.

BUT PLEASE, WARN ME BEFORE YOU BRING SOMETHING OVER. OTHERWISE YOU'LL FIND A IN-PERSON DEMONSTRATION OF NAKED JOURNALING. I'M NOT ALLOWED PANTS BUT I CAN HAVE A TOGA VERY MANLY MAKESHIFT TOWEL OR SHEET SKIRT PREPARED WITH PRIOR NOTICE.

[Warded from Julie]

I could just summon the gnome out of her. That would work, right?

I really don't want to die at the hands of a hormonal 7 stone witch. That would be depressing.

My siblings make me want to vomit.

I need pie. Beef pie.

Putting your ear on your pregnant wife's tummy is a sure way to make her giggle. Loads. Which is distracting when you actually want to hear what is going on in her nether world hump. Personally, I can hear the ocean. Though I'm pretty sure that's just gas.

[Warded against Devon Kirke]
Right. This is how it goes, you little prick: you hurt my sister, your arse is mine to bruise. You think Devon can throw a punch? Just wait until you meet the wizard who taught her how. For some unknown bloody reason she's refusing to tell me just who the fuck you are. Be thankful for that. If you even try to talk to her again, you'll be fucking sorry.

( Rafe )