Dear B***h,
It's morning. Sunshines all across my sleepy face. A new day brings reality and we must go our separate ways. What a lovely night we had, yeah, yeah. Nope. F*** you. This trip seems to be all about sabotage on your part you slick bastard. You ripped my pants. Then you find a way to cancel my wake up call today? I'm not sure why you're so vindictive, but I've gotta admit I like the new you. Just redirect your anger elsewhere. Like to the person that decided to make me eat 2 bratwursts for lunch yesterday and then some apple cobbler. At least I had the good sense to limit myself to a few bites of the cobbler and someone took part of the second brat. You brat. Actually you both are brats. You and that muthaf***in scale. Did he call his inbred cousin in San Diego and tell him not to be in my room? This is crazy. Speaking of crazy, I found someone else that hits the scale daily. She's going through withdrawals just like me. A fellow traveler. But she's skinny. Not sure if she has her Dark Fat Passenger like me. No a**hole. I'm not her Dark Fat Passenger. The DFP is the thing inside me that makes me kill food. I learned all about that on Dexter. Another fine show that you could watch if only I'd let you out of your cage. It puts the book cover on it's skin or else it never watches TV again!!! Well? The choice is yours, but I can't have you walking around fully exposed as my diary. Someone might read you or something stupid like that. And people can't know my innermost thoughts or they might think I'm strange. Anyways you stupid little muthaf***a, I'll tell you more about DFP later, but now he is telling me to get up for breakfast. Don't f*** with me today. Please?!?
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