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I was concerned that there was no price listed per sq ft on the source site, so I looked it up and they are CHEAP AND AFFORDABLE NO MATTER WHERE YOU ARE. The bigger homes cost around $34.74/sq.ft (one of the smallest runs ~$15k, but a 4-bed 4-bath home is ~$66.6k, which is damn affordable when comparable homes in my area are closer to five times that price). Color me in love. [x]
I’m glad this article highlights that if this man made it to shore and had extended contact with these people, he would have exposed them to diseases they’ve never seen before and potentially killed them all. There’s a reason it’s illegal to go there, and Jesus isn’t gonna protect them from chicken pox or the flu.
Like honestly who asked you to do this. Who asked you to buy a plane ticket and go there. Like just go to the movies ?? Live your life?? Eat a crepe?? Who asked you to do this
Apparently it was his dream since high school to bring The Jesusness SPECIFICALLY to these people on this island. He was obsessed with Robinson Crusoe all his life and as a child he used to “paint his face with berry juice and run around the woods with a spear.“ I’m not making any of this up this guy had a total fucking hard-on for the idea that he might one day be the white savior of some ~poor ignorant heathens.
My favorite thing ever is how Ron just sent Charlie a random letter like “hey yo there’s an illegal dragon at hogwarts, could you come and smuggle it out of here, please?” and Charlie was just like “yeah sure, I’ll trespass into the castle and steal a dangerous magical creature, of course, lemme just hit up my friends”
It’s better if you imagine Charlie and co as a group of Grad Students trying to avoid their other responsibilities.
Charlie is drunkenly revising the third draft of his thesis on proper care and feeding of greenhorns when his family owl slams into the window.
Three of his friends jump and look around. Glinda doesn’t raise her head from her folded arms; only groans, “Is that Baines coming to do me in?”
Charlie totters to the window and fetches Errol from the window pane. “No such luck,” he says. “You’re still going to have to take the exam.” After some consideration, Charlie lays him on a clear patch of floor to recover. “Do owls take firewhiskey?” he asks the room at large.
“It’s not fair,” Glinda wails into the tabletop. “I swear he didn’t say anything about Bridgewort’s handling practices when we did the review in class.”
“Oh, Merlin,” says Ali, freezing over their notes like a Medusa wyvern had bitten them. “Oh, Merlin’s sweet saggy socks. Is he covering Bridgewort?”
“That’s what he said when I went to his office hours.” Glinda sits up. “You know his lapdragon singed my new sweater?!”
Charlie decides not to give Errol a nip of whiskey. Flying under the influence is really not done. He unties the letter from Errol’s leg. Ron’s childish spiky handwriting spells out Charlie’s name on the front. Inside is a hastily scrawled message.
“Yes, we know it ruined your sweater,” snaps Ysabelle. “You told us twenty times. Why didn’t you tell us Baines told you we’re going to be tested on Bridgewort?”
“I meant to,” says Glinda. “Sorry.” She flicks her pile of notes. “I was lost in the miasma of gloom and desperation.”
Ali puts their head back and groans. “I’m gonna die. I’m gonna say ‘fuck it’ and just fucking walk into a dragon’s mouth so I don’t have to do this.”
“Hey,” says Charlie. They don’t hear him.
“How much is this worth again?” Glinda asks her bottle of butterbeer.
“Twenty-five percent,” Ali and Ysabelle chorus. Ysabelle adds, “and the thesis is fifty percent of our total grade.”
“Hey!” Charlie repeats. They look at him. He waves Ron’s letter. “My littlest brother at Hogwarts has an illegal dragon he needs to get off campus. Anybody up for a midnight flight?”
Ali slams their hands down on the table and stands up. “Fuck yes,” they say decisively. “Maybe I’ll fly into the Whomping Willow and die a quick death.”