Dear Diary,
Today, I finally got all those knights out of here. Always running around practicing swordplay, bragging about their prowess with maidens, riding horses in the house–it gets a little tiring, not to mention noisy and messy after a while. Had to come up with some plan to distract them so I sent them to look for the Holy Grail. That’ll keep them busy for a while!
Looking forward to a nice, relaxing weekend,
Arthur
April, 1984
Dear Diary,
Julia wants to meet again in the room over the shop later today. Frankly, I’d much rather see what’s happening at the Junior Anti-Sex League rally, then watch our forces’ latest major war victory on the telescreen.
I just wish Julia could see that Big Brother is a pretty good guy overall, and Goldstein is the true enemy, but for some reason, she won’t. Well, I guess I’ll humour her for now, but I’ll only do it to gather evidence against her. Maybe I’ll have enough by May to turn her in.
Winston
Dear Diary,
My identity crisis continues. I find myslef isolated from the a world that neither accepts me or understands me. That is why I had to leave. But now I am a man out of place, isolated from the world that rejected me. Am I to blame? Who am I?
John Galt
Dear Diary…
Why do I listen to her? All she does is nag. “You can do better than this” and “I’m always embarrased to tell Mother how we’re doing.”
It’s not like I’m sitting on my butt doing nothing. I serve the government faithfully, following Duncan’s orders to the letter…
Wait… Glamis is rebelling, and I’ve been called to put the rebellion down. Alright, maybe this will shut her up. Do a good job here, maybe I’ll get his land too. Yeah, that’ll shut her up.
Macbeth
Today is the day. Dr. Kingsmen thinks I’m ready–says it’s all in my head anyway. Today I SHALL conquer my fear of heights. I am NOT afraid.
Besides, I’ve decided that round bottom or no, I can sit up high on that wall and leisurely watch all the horses in the meadow. What could possibly happen? I can always get down, right?
I smacked Zoey tonight. I don’t care if she does have post pardem, the bitch has to learn you never, under any circumstances, jump into the middle of my solo on “Subterranean Homesick Blues.” Once the swelling goes down we’ll talk.
Eddie had the nerve to tell me I was drinking too much. Well, fucking-duh! Like you don’t know there’s a problem when your infant keeps quoting passages from the “Big Blue Book.”
Jake
Dear Diary,
The natives here aren’t as stupid as we thought. At first I thought I could become their ruler, but I think it is the other way around. Why do I feel compelled to impress them? I want to prove to them that we Europeans are unstoppable and indestructable, but they aren’t buying it. They laugh at me.
In other news, I hear that there is an English bloke coming to “rescue” me. Interesting. I don’t think the natives will let me go though. They are having too much fun playing with me. I hope we can escape this place. He’ll never know, and he shouldn’t know, the horrible things I’ve done and seen others do.
I am forced to ask myself, what am I doing here? I can’t help but feel that we Europeans are not as smart as we think we are.
Kurtz
Ooops, didn’t notice the 75 words or less rule. Sorry.
Dear Diary,
I’ve had it with this “bear of very little brain” crap. This “little brain’s” crystal meth lab is making me more dough than those fuzz-for-brains ever dreamed of. I’m gonna buy out this Hundred Acre Wood and turn it in to one hundred acres of strip mall, massage parlors, and after-hours clubs.
Little brain. Heh. I’ll show them. I’ll show them all.
WTP
Dear Diary,
Another $20,000 stashed away in the Swiss bank account. The monthly sales trips to Buffalo are a complete drag, but it’s the perfect cover for the gun-running to the Canadian French-Separatists. And my “dementia?” Ha! Just busy figuring out how to set up the villa on Martinique as a Chapter 29, Subsection 14b business deduction.
It’s flawless. No one–not even my boy, Biff–will ever know.
Willie
Dear Diary,
Sick of the “retard” routine, though it pays for room and board (and beats the hell out of getting drafted to 'Nam). I’m hoping the Institute will soon put me on a per diem so I can eat at decent restaurants, though I’d better not use any Latin phrases at this point. Better call it, “A Spennnding Allow-wunce.”
And Algernon peed in my hand again. He’s dead meat.
Chuck
Dear Diary,
Offed another 4 kids today. The fifth trap misfired. But…get this…I got the kid and his Grandpa Joe to bring the entire family back! Three of 'em are even bedridden! I’ve never killed old people before. This could be a nice change. And, there’ll be more meat on them. The Vermicious Knids will like that.
Hurry back Charlie. I’ve got plenty of nice, fattening chocolate for you and the Oompa-Loompas want to…play…
Willie
Dear Diary,
That bitch is after Ashley still! I cannot believe the nerve of that woman. I’ve been trying to guilt her into letting go for years, but it’s not working. Time to implement Plan B. When that Simpering Southern Belle Bitch least expects it…BAM!!!
Melanie
Dear Diary,
That Romeo geek is still stalking me! He’s like hanging out below my balcony all night and going, “And Juliet is the son.” Guyyyyy, like I’m a daughter, not a son? HELLOOO? WHAT - IS - HIS - MALFUNCTION?!?
If he doesn’t stop soon, I’m like gonna hafta fake a death or something. Ish. At least it’ll get me outa gym.
More later,
J.
Dear Diary,
We’re moving AGAIN … why can’t Pa keep a job? I’m beginning to wonder why he calls me “Half Pint” – I found an empty half pint bottle under the wagon last week, just before we learned we had to leave town. It’s even worse now that I have to pack for Mary, she keeps pulling this “Ooooh, I’m blind, pity me!” act. If I complain, Ma tells me to act like a lady. I try to explain to her that she has become an enabler, but she won’t listen to reason.
Yrs,
Laura
Dear diary,
Life sure gets lonely out here. I’m so starved for companionship, last night I grabbed one of those migrant workers and had my way with him. He squealed like a pig the whole time. Charley refuses to come near me. He doesn’t wag his tail as often as he used to. Things are gonna change tomorrow.
John Steinbeck.
Dear diary,
See dick write. Write Dick, write. Dick writes good.
Dick
Dear Diary,
Discovered something interesting a few years ago. God did it. Life’s a bitch, huh?
Yours,
R. Dawkins
Dear Diary
Shopping List for Tomorrows Magick Ceremony
Noe to Self: Remove Voodoo Doll & burn it before Liz sees it.
John Proctor.
Dear Diary,
Would you believe it? All that grief and tsuris for what? A lousy $5.00 overdue parking ticket. Next time I just plead guilty and mail in the damn fine.
Joseph K.