Captain's Log.

DECEMBER 24TH, 2009

3: 47 P.M. My mom didn’t seem to appreciate the humor in the kill list on my wall. I don’t think I’ll ever understand people.

3:51 P.M. The parents are wrapping my gifts, leaving me stuck in this god-forsaken room, with the taste of spinach-crab dip lingering in my mouth. My phone is broken and Myspace is stupid. You’re all by yourself on this one, chief.

3:54 P.M. My room isn’t god forsaken. I was joking. In fact, it’s nearly impossible to look at one of my walls without getting aroused.

3:55 P.M. I am now looking at my wall. I can’t stop. Assume we are in a hypothetical scenario where I belonged to male gender: my penis would most certainly not be limp.

3:59 P.M. I kind of have to go to the bathroom.

4:00 P.M. Pardon my French, but Vanilla Coke rocks my shit.

4:02 P.M. Holy shit, this is boring. Internet gets old really fast.

4:03 P.M. I’m going to read some Dearly Devoted Dexter.

4:11 P.M. The atmosphere of my room is rather gloomy for reading. The lighting is just never right. It’s mildly frustrating. Regardless: Off to read another chapter!

4:17 P.M. Mother just left to Block Buster. She’s renting Inglorious Bastards. Well, ah rumpa pum pum.

4:24 P.M. Demented, but just what the doctor ordered.

4:31 P.M. Whoever taught dogs how to push open doors was a real asshole.

4:33 P.M. The next time I find myself in an awkward situation, where I’m required to fake human emotion and empathy in order to comfort a poor, helpless, distraught, whimpering victim…I’m just going to pat them on the back, say “there, there”, and hope that’s enough to shut them up.

4:38 P.M. Father informed me that I am now free to leave my room—a glorious moment.

4:39 P.M. Sidewinder out.