Dobby squawks for his supper.

Observant Sinners will have noticed Dobby Ould indulging in a little trans-gender commenting on a truly disgraceful blog, but I’m relieved to say he’s recovered his original identity, and is once again posting in his own name on such balanced and insightful sites as Viagraville, where he’s been talking up his master’s recent expression of support for little Bobby Duncan’s sect.

Of course what he isn’t mentioning is that given Lord Volderjensen’s unfortunate gambling habit there isn’t any money left to keep paying cheeky little house-elves like Dobby, so he’s currently trying for all he’s worth to find someone silly enough to keep putting a roof over his endearing-but-creepy little head. Consequently we can all expect to see a lot more impressively slimy pieces from Dobby around the traps as the boy tries to raise his chances of grabbing a nice schismatic piece of stolen real estate in ACNA should his golden future in Jensenland turn out to be really made of lead.

To help increase the chances of this happening Dobby’s rags are now sporting a subtle new message guaranteed to invoke sympathy in his American friends: if this doesn’t work his only hope will be that some generous Nigerian soul finds it in their homophobic heart heart to send food parcels...



I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.