May. 23rd, 2006

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I am still watching you all. I'm like the little baby jesus, except that I don't care how much you masturbate, so long as I don't have to know about it.

If this damn thing works, it means that we finally got the secure link between the new offices and Xavier's up and running, and my account on the system is switched back on. And so, I assume, are Remy's and Amanda's.

The new offices, for those that give a shit, are the Snow Valley Memorial Centre for Mutant Affairs, or something like that. I have buried my business cards under a drift of paperwork, and cannot be arsed to dig them up.

That's right, we all have proper jobs now. We get to advise stupid people (you know, politicians, captains of industry, and the sort of people who make world-changing decisions every day) on what mutants are for, and how people like us are going to stand the world on it's ear. Or something like that. I'm hazy on the details. Amanda's the only one who's got a piece of paper with a proper job description so far.

But anyway: it makes sense for us to keep talking to you lot, since you're the ones that're going to be doing the ear-standing. Hence all this.

For those of you who are new at Xavier's - I am the sole former guidance counsellor to leave the job as sane as they were going in. I look forward to making your acquaintance properly, when you're old enough to drink.


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