Dear diary, Finally’s our work is all done in da Big Chamber. Now I can take more trips and meets more peoples, and flys all over all da world. Use me government credit card more. Lay more reets and important stuff likes that. Think ’bout long forgotten things to apologize fer. Shake hands and look all important. Maybe I’s can even learn a new language.
Dear Diary, I’s can’t believe it’s bin over a mont, now, since me group is back to meatin’ in da Big Chambers. Dats too long fer us to be workin’.
But rite aways, well at least by da turd week, I realized sumthun’ wuzn’t quite rite. Sumthun’ was missin’.
Dear Diary, Well, I’s just so dang proud a meself. Momma always taught us McNeil kids, all 137 a us, to gives sumthun’ back to da less fortunate. So I’s just tickled wit me new budgets.
Yes’em da big Chamber opened again fer da spring. And as always I wuz da Cock-of-da-Walk. Everybuddies wanted to shake me hand and git dere pictutes taken wit me.
Dear Diary, sorries, I didn’t write ya last week. I was just so dang busy gettin’ ready for me group’s AGM — Annual General Meatin’ I guess des called.
Anyhows, I had a get all gussied up and be dere.
Dear Diary, Well, here I is wit me shoes off, holes in boat me socks, me feet on up on me desk, in me big orfice surrounded by purdy maidens all in a row.
I’s got me an orfice full a dem purdy maidens. Reckon I’s got whad dey calls dere in da Middle East — a harlem. Yes, boys, I got me own little harlem heres in da big city.
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