Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.
Actually, wait, no they haven't. I am, in fact, still dead. Still murdered. Still here though. Not that it makes much difference. Hell on earth, hell in suburbia, hell in hell itself, it all ends up being the same.

I guess there's only so many times you can say "I'm a dead lawyer and I'm pissed off" before you even start boring yourself.

Weird shit been going on around the hotel lately. Things disappearing and the little ghost keeps professing innocence. Not that that's really that unusual considering the place houses a vampire, a dead chick, a ghost, the vampire's son, a witch, and a...whatever the hell Illyria gets classified as. Plus you've got Turner and his pregnant mistress and Ms. Jameson running around. Not to mention your friendly neighborhood evil dead lawyer. I really should be over being surprised by strange occurrences.

It's kind of funny. It's been pretty dull around the hotel except for the amazing disappearing inanimate objects. Too quiet. Someone ought to do something about that.

Current Mood: apathetic
Current Music: Billy Joel - My Life