This elf won't tell anyone his name. He will only shout, "<a href=http://fumbbl.com/FUMBBL.php?page=player&player_id=4498670>REITZLING!!</a>"

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DR#1F blog:

Day 1: I now exist with my own Essex voice.

Apparently.

I just became an Assistant Coach. If I get RIPped (aka raped?), I have assurances now. Y'know?

My "real" name was Rehioarnalkofiernev.

Slav elves are different too. Shta onda chekash?

Day 2: Essex seems to have imploded.

It is being invaded on all sides.

Londoners? … They exist!

But the main threat proved to have been Colchester all along. It turned out that Colchester, the oldest city en Angleterre, had decided to become, once again, the county town of Essex.

Collecting all three of his sabres — aka, Shaun Keaveney, MarK Radcliffe and, indeed, even Stuart Maconie — he travelled immediately (this is Lamaq, we're talking about here, btw) to Colchester itself, raised an army of Ipswichians, and ravaged Essex brutally until David Beckham, Jamie Oliver, everyone still calling themselves 'Daniel' (for no particular reason), the entire population of effing Chelmsford (aka, Camford South?) and, naturally, any Ipswichians dumb enough to attempt to infiltrate (Tom Battersby).

In the mean time, you should see what my correspondents are up to!

Good luck out there, dumbass Essex boys who aren't even English?

Laterz! XD

Day 3: It is the year 89, Our New Calendar.

I will correct my entry format accordingly, in the next entry.

Aydinsday, Year 91: I have finally been informed of the names of the days of the week.

They are as follows: Moonday, Chewsday, Aydinsday, Torsday, Freiday, Samsday, Soonday, Totherday.

Day 4: It may be Aydinsday 15, Year 91. The future was slow to start, but we seem now to have achieved ignition.

Shuttles to Mir and the Moon are now frequent. Naturally, I prefer to take the bus.

CCT took us to visit his presumed cloning place … It was a burnt-out dump.

I wish transfers were possible in this so-called 'sport'. However, only some team run by some coach with the name of "Dread Claw" (of all things!) will even consider an *unofficial* transfer move for me — and even he insists that I must die and/or retire before he will consider it.

Worst of all is my fear that I may be subjected to such a transfer and yet remain here, at Condemned to Death, as an Assistant Coach (presumably, some kind of shadow clone remnant/ghost) as well …

Still, on the positive side, team morale is *very* high (even by our standards) — we did just take a trip to the Moon, after all! Better still, I can't even remember the last time we had to play a real match!

… CCT even just chatted me up a bit — which was as odd as usual. However, it did have the (expected, actually) side-effect that that Catcher with the impossible-to-pronounce name (Ulanarakyasharaterene) is giving me the eye—

And, er — she is too! She just updated her bio right while she's … … Excuse us! XD

Day 68: Years have passed.

I am downloading. In every sense. I have become distributed.

... I am not just talking about CCT's latest formation. In which I do indeed have a 'free' role ...

Well, that's the internet for you.

The war continues. As usual, I'd rather be playing Blood Bowl. It's far more dangerous of course. But at least there are plenty of after-show parties. Plus, even when it's ages between games, most of the team hangs out. We're all quite hot, y'know? Especially the girls. Even the ones with loads of injuries tend to be all right. When they're on their backs the niggles don't tend to matter so much.

But I digress.

Yeah ... Getting tired of this war.

We've pretty much shut Essex up though.

At least for now.

Laterz.

Day 2506: I did not yet reach what turns out to have been Drepan's home town (Trapani).

However, I did kill a Human today. =)