Dear Journal…

 Day 1:
Dear Journal, today I bought a journal.

Day 4:
The best things in life are free.
The best things in life are deep-fried.
The best things in life are bacon.
The best things in life are free, deep-fried bacon.

Day 16:
When exactly is Rex Manning Day?
Day 23:
I have uncovered a mystery. Regardless of the color of my clothing, my navel lint is always blue. White shirt, blue lint. Black shirt, blue lint. I can draw no other conclusion but that my navel is in fact a quantum white hole vomiting matter into our universe, with its counterpart black hole being located on or near the production line of an alternate-universe textile factory. In the morning I shall write to Professor Liedenbrock about organizing an expedition to unravel this mystery.

Day 42:
Am beginning to suspect that the cat is in fact the reincarnation of a serial killer. Her violent and seemingly murderous tendencies can have no other explanation. Will have to do something fast – she’s nearly destroyed everything, and I’m running out of ways to handle the dead joggers she leaves as gifts for us each morning.

Day 63:
Construction of the nuclear powered subatomic cheese laser is nearing completion. Need more plutonium. Have a meeting scheduled with the Libyans in the mall parking lot in the morning.

Day 88:
Had the balloon animal dream again.

Day 91:
Posted a bunch of random BS to my blog today after staying up all night playing Spyro and drinking coffee. I should probably try harder for the next post.

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One thought on “Dear Journal…

  1. I WISH my cat were a serial killer. He drags birds, lizards and mice inside just to torture them and then abandons the living creature to fly, crawl or scurry around the house. Ick!

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