Dear Diary, Well, dog-gone as I’s ever gone and done it dis time, Diary. I tries to do da rite ting but in da end all I dose is get me ox in a ditch deeper.
Likes, I’s been gettin’ all dese angry letters and phone calls just coz da otter day I went to church.
Dear Diary, Golly-gee, what a whirlwind of activity since I’s got meself back from da Nordern Lites.
You know wad da Yukon got on der licence plates, dey gots “Da Klondike” on der licence plates as a motto. But outside a dat, da Yukon don’t have no officials motto at all.
Dear Diary, I’s back from anutter trip. Sure is stackin’ up dem aeroplane miles. I’s a real frequent flier dese days! Da missus gonna be real happy wit me. He-he-he!
Yep, back from way up nort. We had a meatin’ in dat dere Yukon. Da Yukon is part a Alaska up dere in da inner Arctic Circular, run by da Houston Bay Companies.
Dear Diary, Guess where I wuz to? I wuz ways across da ocean again. I wuz in London. Ya knows da one in England. Yep. Dats da one. I wuz back dere visitin’ again. Great Caesar’s Ghost, is dey ever really gettin’ to knows me in London, England. I feels like one a da family now, what wit all me big expensive trips back and fort. Fells like one a Royal Family.
Dear Diary, Wells, finally it’s summertime and da livin’ is easy. Just gotta keep da flies outta da house and off ya. Dats all. Actually, tho’, da livin’ is always easy fer me coz’ I’s da premium.
Like yesterdays da gal in me office. Da one in da short dress and wit da legs like stilts, answered da telephone and sez, “Good mornin’ Premium McNeil’s office...”
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