December 1, 3018
I can't restrain my lust for Deeanna Troll a minute longer. Shelob blew it, anyway. It is pretty well-known that Keebler's comes from Elves, lady. I've put up with your mood-swings, your jealousy, even your cooking ... but enough is enough. Deanna, here I come!! Mohohohoooooooooooooooooooooo!!! Nnnnnnngh!!
I've decided to beef up the border patrol at the Musty Mountains. The border there is far too porous. Elves!? Not everyone who travels that way is there for the ski-ing. Speaking of which, I hear the ski resorts have been overrun by mice with rapiers, lately. Besides, the area hasn't been properly mapped yet.
Well, I knew my thesis was dead. So I carefully taped my brilliant responses to the pathetic loaded queastions my committee chose to inflict upon me, even Ollie North's patently irrelevant jealous ravings, Tolkas' Moose-isms ("Duh, I'm gonna beatcha up if ya don't tell me what 'othering' mean."), and Nienna's incoherent babblings ... and Tom ... well, after the Bomb had stolen two or three of my women, I knew what to expect: incredibly off-key singing.
Rats! I can't wogah Deeanna today... I had to send her to Gondor to check up on Denethor™. True, I've been in corrspondence with the bozo through palantír for a while -- but I think he's hiding something. I urgently require information about the "Seven Dwarfs".
I'm extending Mordor's universal health care system to the liberated parts of Gondor. But at the moment, I've got my hands full with the left-wing Balrogs (I wish I had them full with Deeanna), who, if they were ticked off before, are even more ticked off now, on account of my banning Balroging and Nothingness. So I'm working out a Code of Conduct to ensure that the jet-propelled 'Rogs aren't exploited. We'll see how that flies.
Thank heavens the Orcs are fairly tranquil at the moment. I think it helps that I've started getting them into the Balroque.
I can sympathize with the left-wing Balrogs, having myself been oppressed by my committee, when they rejected my defense. I appealed to Dha-Manwë, but he had clearly been bought by Ollie North. It was then that I told the Valar what they could do to themselves, and transferred to Melkor's Angband U. Of course, AU hadn't been accredited by the Valar, who preferred to keep all power in their own hands.
December 6
I finally got to wogah with Deeanna Troll. NNNNNNNNgh!! Now I know that, when the Dweargas seduced the Troll- widows, they weren't just after their treasure (not even the Enterprise). As we removed each other's clothes, each of us told the other, laughing giddily with lust, "You're hiding something!" [Due to mature theme, I have had to excise a large portion of this diary. I regret the inconvenience.]
Reports say that Gandalf is still at it in the stables at RIvendell. Disgusting! And he and Aruman (Saruman, Scmaruman, whatever ...) are supposedly the high muckimucks of the (aptly, if racistly named) White Council. [Warning: transparent political satire ahead, with zero subtlety] I remember when they held the election for the Head of the White Council, and Gandlaf and Aruman were falling all over each other trying to placate special interests. At one typical, if unedifying moment, they were competing to wash the feet of that aluminum-siding baron. I'll never forget their slogans: "Vote for me because I agree with my opponent even more than he does." It came down to the wire, and finally they had to pass three tests: Sleeping with Galadriel, singing with the Bomb, and sitting through the Jerry Strider show without gagging. Gandalf won the first test, but Aruman won the last two. That's how they do things in the West. I had been rooting for Radagast the Green; silly me.
Dec. 7, 3018: In an attempt to understand Gondorian culture -- that I may treat it with the proper respect after conquering the Magic Kingdom -- I am reading one of the classics of Gondorian literature, /The Tale of Anarchion and Anorexia the Daisy/. I found it very moving; but it would have been even more moving if there had been fewer lies and fewer insensitive jokes about Drugadans, and if every other page hadn't been a commercial.
The Orcs' musical knowledge has reached such an impressive level that I think it's time to invent the Orc-estra. But I'm a little concerned about Clárence; I don't think Aruman's Orcs are a good influence.
I'm thinking of appointing a poet laureate. I haven't appointed one before, not because we don't have excellent poets; after all, what could be more poetic than Gorbush's
haven't ehy finished cou-
nting yet!?
Sheesh!But I had a prejudice against the idea, dating from when I left Valinor and the Valar appointed Hugh Heffnaestos as poet laureate. That gives a pretty clear picture of the standards prevailing in the "Blessed" Realm.
[Professor Lång remarks:
How about the Mouth of Sauron as Poet Laureate? Such a fastidious sense of words...Leading to the following polemic from Carl Dershem:
Hmph. Last I heard, he was off discussing free verse with Bombadil...]December 14
Maybe I'm living a leetle too much in the past with my remininiscences of Aman. Mordor has a bright future ahead of her, can I but thwart the evil plots of Gandalf and Co. They think they're very clever, but in reality they're as clumsy as a Ment in the gardens of Minas Epcot.
You'd think Aruman would show a little more gratitude for my gift of the Fords of Isen. Admittedly, that wasn't one of the better ideas of Ford, that deranged Troll. I was glad to give up those crummy cars after Mordor had developed the most advanced system of public transit in the world.
Shelob's jealousy is becoming a serious threat. Yesterday, I had to defend Deeanna from a vicious gnîw with poisonous hooves, in very suspicious circumstances. Ah, Deeanna, whose lips are like unto the roses of Khand, where Miniiwethil and I spent our ferociously hot honeymoon! Though I have to admit that the line "You're hiding something!" can get a little old sometimes ...
Dec. 1, 3018: I can't restrain my lust for Deeanna Troll a minute longer. Shelob blew it, anyway. It is pretty well-known that Keebler's comes from Elves, lady. I've put up with your mood-swings, your jealousy, even your cooking ... but enough is enough. Deanna, here I come!! Mohohohoooooooooooooooooooooo!!! Nnnnnnngh!!
I've decided to beef up the border patrol at the Musty Mountains. The border there is far too porous. Elves!? Not everyone who travels that way is there for the ski-ing. Speaking of which, I hear the ski resorts have been overrun by mice with rapiers, lately. Besides, the area hasn't been properly mapped yet.
Well, I knew my thesis was dead. So I carefully taped my brilliant responses to the pathetic loaded queastions my committee chose to inflict upon me, even Ollie North's patently irrelevant jealous ravings, Tolkas' Moose-isms ("Duh, I'm gonna beatcha up if ya don't tell me what 'othering' mean."), and Nienna's incoherent babblings ... and Tom ... well, after the Bomb had stolen two or three of my women, I knew what to expect: incredibly off-key singing.
Rats! I can't wogah Deeanna today... I had to send her to Gondor to check up on Denethor™. True, I've been in corrspondence with the bozo through palantír for a while -- but I think he's hiding something. I urgently require information about the "Seven Dwarfs".
I'm extending Mordor's universal health care system to the liberated parts of Gondor. But at the moment, I've got my hands full with the left-wing Balrogs (I wish I had them full with Deeanna), who, if they were ticked off before, are even more ticked off now, on account of my banning Balroging and Nothingness. So I'm working out a Code of Conduct to ensure that the jet-propelled 'Rogs aren't exploited. We'll see how that flies.
Thank heavens the Orcs are fairly tranquil at the moment. I think it helps that I've started getting them into the Balroque.
I can sympathize with the left-wing Balrogs, having myself been oppressed by my committee, when they rejected my defense. I appealed to Dha-Manwë, but he had clearly been bought by Ollie North. It was then that I told the Valar what they could do to themselves, and transferred to Melkor's Angband U. Of course, AU hadn't been accredited by the Valar, who preferred to keep all power in their own hands.
transcribed by Menelvagor the Enervator
Sauron's diary - December 16-30
