Dear Internet,

Do not, I repeat, do not think a chair can somehow match bazooka that wants to explode right in your pretty little off center face. Only stupid zombie healing bastards can think this and get away with it.

FUCKING HEALING SHIT

You know how boring staying in a hospital is? Do you?

It smells like bad granny panties and like OLD PEOPLE EVERYWHERE

(and fuck you I ain't old)

So of course I fucking used him as a shield. He's the best meat shield ever, and he only smells like dead flesh half of the time.

Day in the life of Badou Nails, learn something from it.

Oh shit, should I have made some internet nickname like coolguy24. I don't want creepy basement dwellers asking me for that cyber sex stuff.

I REPEAT, I AM NOT 14/F/NEAR YOUR HOUSE!

If someone was courting you, what would you consider to be the ideal 'date'?

Today was not very productive.

However, I did find this old notebook. It has not been written in but the binding looks ancient. Who would leave such a thing simply lying around in an empty room?

Regardless, it is mine now and it will hold my thoughts.

~ Gellert Grindelwald
~ December, 1905

[The entry first appears in precise, pen-and-ink handwriting and the words are jumbled into numbers and letters.]

[Then the letters shift, change, and soon a more coherent message appears:]

It looks like I’m not court-martialing those two idiots after all.

Bad enough that they lost the luggage. It’s a good thing I put all the important supplies in the armors before we got to the desert! Bad enough that the desert has these horrible bug things lurking in it, eating luggage and all my nice things and this is supposed to look like a diplomatic event.

I forgot how much I hate the desert. This place is even worse than Albrook’s desert, full of flying walnuts and dragon skulls snickity-snacking at heels and, every now and then, the dreaded sandworm popping up with a suction-soft mouth that yanks towards curved mandibles so that it can snap you up as a snack!

How did those two idiots manage to lose my luggage and my important journal?! It’s a good thing they got me this replacement or they’d be regretting it. Maybe they could feed the bugs and I could keep on going without bugs or idiots bugging me!

I hate my life. I hate this job. I hate everything. At least I got a quality replacement journal.

[and then a tenor voice pipes in, sharp and squeaky in surprise] …did the book just decode my cipher? It took years to learn how to write that!