Dear Diary, Oh, diary, if it ain’t one thing it’s another.
Everybody sez I’s detached and indifferent, and kinda disinclinded to demonstrate any kinds, of what they’s calls initiative or leadership. But I needs me rest, and relaxation, too.
Dear Diary, I’m back from China.
I’ve been there many times before as part of my job as Group Leader. It’s fun travelling. I travel a lot.
And I likes China, too. It reminds me a lot of walking down Spring Garden Road in Halifax, or walking up Charlotte Street in Sydney.
Dear Diary, How’s ya doin? Me’s doin’ just fine. She’s been a great summer.
I’s ate a lot and never paid one friggin’ red cent for any of it. That’s the thing, peoples in my group, we’s never has to spend any of ours own money.
I’s know, diary, that I’s mentioned that before, but I’s just can’t help it.
Dear Diary, I’s baaaack!
Why, heck, I’s just been busier than a darn ten-peckered Billy Goat. Always up to sumthun’. This, that and the other.
Take the other day, I’s had to saddle up to goes back into the city to meets with the two new gents who’s joined our group. A Mr. Mummerbrat and a Mr. Willdone.
Dear Diary, Just a short entry. I’s up in this thing called Cape Breton. It’s an island almost entirely surrounded by lobster. I’s like it here, but I’s wouldn’t be able to live here.
There’s just so much poverty and so much despair. The only ones that makes the money is their local politicians, there, like big what’s he’s name, there, Big Jim MacLeod.
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