Dear Diary, I guess I’s would be dismiss if I wuzn’t to welcome da new group leader from dats utter group, Rev. Barrel.
I don’t knows Rev. Barrels meself but from whad I hears he’s a good nuff fellow. A man of da clot, after all.
Dear Diary, I wuz gonna write dis week, den I wuzin’ gonna write. Den I wuz gonna write, den I wuzin’ gonna write. I just kept friggin’ flip-floppin’ back and forth. Back and forth.
Dear Diary: I’s too diserpointed to writes dis week, ’cause me communicable gal Floral Munroe has up and gone down de road. Be back next week.
Dear Diary, so, we now moves into da post-David Buoy Era. I wuz sad to hear of he’s debt.
I’s remember listenin’ to all he’s songs on the Philco — Take Me Home, Country Roads; Sunshine On Me Shoulders; Rocky Mountain High — but me own personal favourite Bouy song, hands down, is Tank God I’s A Country Boy!
I’s really likes dat one!
Dear Diary, Happy New Year! I can’t believe it’s 1986 alreadys. Reckon da time, dere, she sure flys by.
Anutter Christmas come and gone. And I reckons if I’s was one to take me Christmas lights down, den dis would be’s the ideal time I woulds be doin’ just dat!
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