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Not sure how it's in the books but I wish there was more focus on the different houses in the movies. I would often dream about how it would be like to be included into Hogwarts. Getting the letter, crashing into a brick wall like a degenerate Ravenclaw and ride that iconic train until you're standing at the platform being greeted by Hagrid. I always imagined myself being in the house of Hufflepuff, because it's a really great and underappreciated house. Noble Cedric Diggory was a Hufflepuff. Also they have a fucking Badger as a symbol, how cool is that? Also it's really fun to say: H-U-F-F-L-E-P-U-F-F!! But a couple of years ago I had a dream that Changed my view of those movies forever. In my dream I would just be leaving Dumbledore's office. He has just scolded me for my persistence of wearing a fedora and fingerless gloves with the uniform and informs me, that if he sees me wering those again he will expel me and give Ravenclaw the house cup. I can't accept those sick freaks in Ravenclaw getting the house cup so I reluctantly agree.Leaving Dumbledore's office, I make my way down the corridors of Hogwarts. Having just passed Nearly Headless Nick I suddenly found myself outside Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom when I see Hermione emerge out of the bathroom. Hermione, (bless her soul )was the only I knew of who uses this bathroom, because she was the only one who could tolerate Moaning Myrtle. As she passes me she says "Hey!" I barely manage to stammer out a barely audible "He...h..hey" this results in a smile and quiet giggle as she make her way down the halls. I stare longing after my goddess Hermione and starts to wonder why she would want to be with such a loser as Ron instead of a gentleman like me. He is a Weasley for crying out loud, even worse than a Muggle! If I couldn't be with her I would do the second best thing. A devious plan started to form in my head. It was risky and with a small chance of success, but it was worth trying. I knew exactly what had to be done. In the middle of the night I got out of bed and slipped on some robes and walked out of Hufflepuff's common room. My heart was hammering in my chest, but with determined footsteps I walked through the empty and dark halls in Hogward Castle. I knew it was a huge risk considering Snape and Filch was often roaming the halls at this hour, but it was a risk I was willing to take. Emerging outside Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, I looked around before stepping inside. I couldn't see Myrtle anywhere. Good, I thought then maybe I can have some privacy. I almost ran passed the sink containing the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets and opened one of the stalls. Nothing, I ran to the next stall and opened the door. Nothing here either. I continued to run from stall to stall, I was about to give up when I stepped into the fifth one. There in the left hand corner, I saw exactly what I was looking for, a small trash can! I almost dived head first into the trash can, and started to claw my way trough its content like a starving Raccon. Almost immediately I found what I was looking for. I would have screamed with happiness if I wasn't so scared about being found. In my greasy, dorito dust covered hands, I held a clearly used tampon. And since Hermione was the only one who used this bathroom it had to be hers. I immediately freed my dick and started to masturbate. Holding a tampon so close to my face I couldn't avoid smelling it. It was a divine scent of womanhood and a healthy uterus. I was rapidly nearing release but I wanted more. With one trembling hand I grabbed my MAGIC wand and started to insert it into my ass. l had about 10-13cm. inside when I knew I was at the point of no return. I adjusted the grip on the wand in my ass and yell "ORGASMUS" this set of both wands as I exploded like a patronus charge painting the walls with my ejaculate like if it were a firehose. With shaking knees, I got up and dislocated the wand from my ass. I snatched the tampon like Smeagol and his precious and made my way back. That tampon would remain my best friend at my years at Hogwart and was such an important part of my life that I would consider turning it, along with many other I stole over the school year into horcruxes

I like monkeys. The pet store was selling them for five cents a piece. I thought that odd since they were normally a couple thousand. I decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. I bought 200. I like monkeys. I took my 200 monkeys home. I have a big car. I let one drive. His name was Sigmund. He was retarded. In fact, none of them were really bright. They kept punching themselves in their genitals. I laughed. Then they punched my genitals. I stopped laughing. I herded them into my room. They didn't adapt very well to their new environment. They would screech, hurl themselves off of the couch at high speeds and slam into the wall. Although humourous at first, the spectacle lost its novelty halfway into its third hour. Two hours later I found out why all the monkeys were so inexpensive: they all died. No apparent reason. They all just sorta' dropped dead. Kinda' like when you buy a goldfish and it dies five hours later. Damn cheap monkeys. I didn't know what to do. There were 200 dead monkeys lying all over my room, on the bed, in the dresser, hanging from my bookcase. It looked like I had 200 throw rugs. I tried to flush one down the toilet. It didn't work. It got stuck. Then I had one dead, wet monkey and 199 dead, dry monkeys. I tried pretending that they were just stuffed animals. That worked for a while, that is until they began to decompose. It started to smell real bad. I had to pee but there was a dead monkey in the toilet and I didn't want to call the plumber. I was embarrassed. I tried to slow down the decomposition by freezing them. Unfortunately, there was only enough room for two monkeys at a time so I had to change them every 30 seconds. I also had to eat all the food in the freezer so it didn't all go bad. I tried burning them. Little did I know my bed was flammable. I had to extinguish the fire. Then I had one dead, wet monkey in my toilet, two dead, frozen monkeys in my freezer, and 197 dead, charred monkeys in a pile on my bed. The odour wasn't improving. I became agitated at my inability to dispose of my monkeys and to use the bathroom. I severely beat one of my monkeys. I felt better. I tried throwing them away but the garbage man said that the city was not allowed to dispose of charred primates. I told him that I had a wet one. He couldn't take that one either. I didn't bother asking about the frozen ones. I finally arrived at a solution. I gave them out as Christmas gifts. My friends didn't know quite what to say. They pretended that they like them, but I could tell they were lying. Ingrates. So I punched them in the genitals. I like monkeys.

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