Dear Diary: This morning I farted right after breakfast. Not much else of note today. Time for lunch soon.
Dear Diary: I had the TV on this morning to catch the latest news. Somebody said something that sounded important but I didn't hear it. Maybe next week. I'll let you know. For sure.
Dear Diary: Am I the right shade of green? I can't always tell, and when I stop someone on the street to ask about this I sometimes get confusing responses. Please help me. I know you can.
Dear Diary: Today I noticed that I have no hair between my toes. Overall, I'm happy about this but have been unsure if it means that I'm not really a hobbit, or is something even more strange going on?
Dear Diary: The guy down the street seems to be watering his lawn an awful lot. Makes me wonder if he has nothing better to do. I'm going to keep watching in case something happens.
Dear Diary: Mom said that if I ate all my vegetables I'd grow up to be big and strong like her, but I didn't eat them, and now I'm all grown up and don't know what comes next, and Mom won't talk to me any more. So. Something, OK?
Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@gmail.com
Me? Recently rediscovered how much fun flatulence can be.
