Hey! I'm not in prison! Ha ha! Good thing I'm random. I was testifying in court when I threw a smoke bomb at the judge and dove out the window and took a bus to Cancun. It's sweet here! Well it was. Until I drank the water. I'm in the hospital now throwing up every seven minutes. I aimed for the nurse, but she's got the reflexes of a cat. She must get people like me often. Wait. Here she comes................Ha! I got her! Oh crap she's pissed. Hey. What's that! OH NO! NOT THE PADDLE! MY REAR IS STILL SORE FROM LAST TIME! NOT THE PADDLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Wait. Window dive! All right! Ha, sucker! Oh. I'm kinda on the 5th floor. So I guess I'll get back to you when I wake up from my concussion. I'd really like to die right now. Well, I'm going to hit the ground in a minute. Ooh! I'll land on my head and try to snap my neck! Ha ha! So I geuss this is goodbye! It's been fun!

I'm home! Okay, so the scary neighbor man came downstairs and pulled out a machete as long as my leg. He held it right up to my neck until I could feel the coldness of the bad on my neck. He started to mumble something. His breath smelled like blood. "I have an important question for you...." I started to sweet profusely. My blood ran cold as I silently cried thinking this was the end. I knew I was going to die so I figured oh what the heck, I'll cooperate. "Okay. What do you want?" I asked, my voice shaky and my eyes full of tears. The silence that followed seemed like hours. He pressed the blade just a teeny bit closer, not close enough to cut my skin but close enough that I had trouble breathing. If he moved any closer I would instantly be spilling gallon upon gallon of blood. That's when he asked his question. "What setting do I use on the washer if I'm just washing some boxers?" Phew. I felt so much relief just then. Until I realized....crap. I didn't know. I just made something up on the spot and hoped he would buy it. "Oh, you uh, set it to uh, Swiss Nelson. I felt the grip on the blade loosen. "What?" "Yeah, you know. Swiss Nelson. Stick in a capful of tide and watch it work its magic." (Swiss Nelson? I know it's pathetic, but you don't expect me to know this crap, do you? I've never touched a washer a day in my life.) "Hmm. It sounds like a likely story. But I'd better go check and make sure you're not making this up." Oh crap. Well, I'm screwed. He left the room. I heard him upstairs fumbling in the washroom. I heard a door slam, the press of a button, and the washer starting. Then he came back downstairs. "Oh! Okay! I was wondering what the Swiss Nelson button was for. Thanks!" What? That's actually a setting? Where in the crap did this dude get his washer! Oh well. He unchained me and led me to the front door. I was in the doorway when I heard a loud beeping sound. "Oh! Washer is done!" Wow. That's quick and convenient. He skipped away merrily to check his precious unmentionables. I could hear him whistling zippety-doo-dah in the other room and the washer door opening. Then the whistling stopped. It was completely dead silent. Oh crap. Well, I'd best be going! I started to tiptoe out the door. It was still completely silent. I got pretty far from the house, but not far enough to break into a dead run. I took two more steps when I heard someone sprinting towards me. I looked back to see him running towards me with a bloody chainsaw in hand. "IT TURNED MY BOXERS PINK! YOU MUST PAY!!!!!!!!!!!" He lunged at me unleashing a blood-curdling scream that could have awakened my dead dog Skippy (had I not dug him up and eaten him during the six-week blizzard of '89) My brain froze. (It always happens at the most inconvenient times, doesn't it?) I had no idea what to do. So I stood there. And waited to feel myself being cut in half. He would have gotten me if I had kept running a couple feet. He judged my distance wrong landed directly to the left of me. Idiot. He faceplanted into his petunias and didn't move. So I bolted (after calling him a ripoff artists and kicking him in the shin) toward the nearest bus stop and took it to Milwaukee. So that's where I am now. Sitting in a cheap 25 dollar apartment. My neighbor welcomed me by bring me a platter of freshly-baked brownies. I can't trust anyone anymore so I smashed the brownies in his face and performed a Northern Lights Piledriver on him before pushing his unconcious body down the stairs. I'm locked in the bathroom now. The hotel security is using an axe to get through the door so I will get back to you once I get my prison sentance.

Dear diary,
I am locked in the scary neighbor man's basement. He allowed me to bring my laptop. He thinks it will make the process less painful. He feeds me gruel twice a day. I am naked chained to the wall right now. I am typing this with my toes. Dang! I'm doing pretty good! Ha ha! So maybe this is it. Goodbye, world!

Dear diary, today I made friends with the scary neighbor man that lives next door. He broke through my window looking for some antibiotics. Then he stabbed my teddy bear schmee and had to run away because he remembered he skettios were still on the stove. At about midnight I saw strange lights on and heard screams. He invited me over for tea tomorrow. I'll let you know how it goes!

Holy crap. Nothing happened today. I woke up, had a cup of coffee, read the paper, and went for a jog. I came back and watched my stories, taped Desperate Housewives for my roomate Hellsent Angel, and ate macaroni and cheese for dinner. It was good for me! And now I have nothing to write about in my journal. Wait. I hear something. Oh. It's just the termites again. One sec. Let me get the blowtorch.

Whoops. There goes the couch.

DUDE, THEY'RE COMING IN BY THE THOUSANDS! WHERE'S THE SHOTGUN!

Okay. I think they're gone. WAIT! THE QUEEN! SHE'S TRYING TO EAT MY LAPTOP! NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! JUDO CHOP! TAKE THAT! OOH, HOW'S THAT TASTE, YOU LITTLE FREAK!

Okay. Sorry about that. Okay. Where was I before I was so rudely interrupted? I dunno. Oh well. Let's hope something more interesting happens tomorrow.

Well I made it out of the white space of doom. That place smelled funny. I ran toward the chanting and found a bunch of elderly dudes with 6 foot beards and piercing black eyes. I judo-chopped 3 of them and took the other 3 out with a piece of bathroom tile I've had in my pocket for the last three years. After they were knocked out the walls melted and I woke up in my bedroom stark naked with the numbers 69 shaved into my rear end. I don't know what that has to do with anything. Oh well. It was a blast! Let's see what happens tomorrow!

Well, I'm not really sure where I am right now. Um....the date was seriously bugging me because it was always a day a head. So I, um, decided to uh, fix that. It completely blew up in my face and I don't even know what year it is anymore. You see, here is how it went.
I set half the clocks in my house ahead an hour and the other half back an hour on Wednesday and spent 18 hours in some kind of space-time continuum loop, reliving
Thursday (right up until the explosion). I was able to exit the loop only by reversing the polarity of the power source exactly on all the clocks in the house while simultaneously rapping my dog on the snout with a rolled up Times. That's when I blacked out and when I woke up, I was just in a big empty white space. No ceiling, no walls, no nothing. It's just me and my laptop. So, um, occasionally I hear chanting, but it kind of wierds me out. And if I get too close my nose starts to bleed and I drift into a coma for a few minutes before I feel an electrical jolt running through my body keeping me awake. The lights are very bright here! Someone help me! I wish I had some steamed mushrooms! Maybe I can hang myself somewhere. I shall go see! Goodbye for now! Aww, poor wittle guy! I don't want you to be all alone like I am! Here, I will give you a friend. There you go! Oh no! Watch out for the cannibalistic smurfy thing! Run, little Gordetto and little Ty! You're too cute to die! Run! RUN!!!!!!

Well, sorry guys. They haven't let me out of jail yet for the stinkbomb incident, and this guy in the top bunk is making me "solicit" right now so i gotta go.


Good thing I practiced in the bank the other day!

Dear Diary,

I noticed the date was set wrong here for some reason. It's a day ahead. Today is only the 29th, not the 30th. Oh well. That just makes it more exciting. All of mine and Pierre's plans went perfectly. I won the bet about the old lady. He never gave me my ten dollars so I ran him over with a golf cart. He never woke up. I went to the viewing tonight. I had on black slacks, a pink shirt and an open black jacket over it. Man I looked good. No one seemed to care. They were crying about Pierre or something. I don't know. I don't pay attention to this crap. Kenneth wasn't there. He had to feed the farm animals. I think he just smokes weed. The only farm animal I've ever seen was the pig's head he has mounted on the mantle. He said it was his trophy shot. I think he just picked it up at Smith and Edward's. You can find anything there! I heard a famous quote in English class today. "If you truly want to find yourself, go get lost." I tried that. It doesn't work. I had Kenneth drop me off 50 miles away from anything. The middle of friggin nowhere. It was quite easy to find myself. I was there the whole time. What a stupid quote! So anyway, after I chewed off my pinkies out of hunger and tried to light a campfire which ended up burning down the entire countryside, I decided to just bag the whole thing and lie there and wait to die. I only made it about 17 minutes before I decided "screw that plan" because I was bored out of my skull. So I stood up and looked around. I hadn't gone anywhere. So I was still fifty miles from anything. That's when I noticed the truck stop located conveniently 50 feet away from my location. I went nad (Ha ha! I spelled nad!) AND used the payphone and told my mommy to come get me. The workers there weren't very nice to me. I guess my "campfire" burned down half the building. But at least I didn't burn the candy machines! All the people stopping by tried to give me a ride to the mental hospital. They said they had watched me the entire freakin time. Their favorite part was when I decided to go commando to really get a feel for the environment. So my mommy picked me up and grounded me. So I guess I will have to find myself at my house. It's still a stupid game. Whoever created it was a moron for thinking some poor loser would fall for this crap. I know I fell for it, but come on. Just look at me. Of course I'm gonna fall for that crap! Anyway tomorrow Kenneth and I have to go to Pierre's funeral. We're paulbearers and we're gonna see if we can sneak a stinkbomb into the casket before it's sealed! Ha ha! Won't that be great! Then we'll probably never be allowed at the mortuary and have to spend a night in jail, but hey, It's what Pierre would have wanted.

Dear diary,

I took some laxatives along with my Prozac. I can't get off the john but I feel good about it. After I finish I plan to ask the elderly lady down the street a very personal question (Like if she has any tampons I could borrow) and see if she chases me. If she does, my friend Pierre (who will be hiding in the bushes) will document how fast her electric wheelchair can really go. If she makes it over 15, I win 10 dollars! Then we will surf the internet and most likely get into mischeif and hack into secret confessions so we can laugh hysterically when we find out what Jenny down the block has been up to. Then we will meet up with Kenneth and for for our powerwalk. We will powerwalk to Smith's and try not to get stuck in the blood pressure machine this time. But if we do, it will give us an excuse to destroy it. I have always had this BURNING DESIRE to destroy one of those. Just to see what happens. The pharmacists will try to take us down but there are nothing but a bunch of old ladies working there so we should be able to take them down with a few punches. Then if we make it out before the whole building goes up in flames and fiery explosions (It's amazing what results you get when you mix some pop rocks, lighter fluid and alka seltzer) we will head across the street and see if the bank will give us any money out of pity. If not, we'll sexually solicit anyone who wishes for our service. Of course no one will (except maybe Griffin but that's just torture) so we will go home and think up another diabolical scheme for tomorrow! Well, my laxatives just wore off, so I had better go take some more. This time I'll take some viagra and see what results I get.