Dear Dairy, I Work In A Dairy Plant
The tale of Mr. Rodgins.
Warning: You are reading his diary. He will not like this. Do you proceed?
--> YES --> NO
Dear Dairy,
Golly, a new fancy journal to write in. This is FA-BER-LOUS! I will tell it all me secrets and me thoughts and it won't get up and leave me like Mildred did! Nasty scumbag of a girl. Always smelled like cabbage, she did. But this smells like paper. Oh, the sweet, succulent odor of a new journal! So smooth are your pages, and so finely do they arch when I touch them. You are a shy shade of pink, and you are quite simply gorgeous... a virgin pad of paper, and with my glorious stick of ink, I will dirty the crevices of your binding- excuse me for a minute.
Ah, that's better. Y'know, they say a man shouldn't keep a journal. Because it seems too "feminine". Them men are onions. And they'll peel. Eventually. After women like Mildren run their mouths off too many times. I know I did.
That reminds me, Christmas is coming up. I planned to buy a box filled with those headbands with the antler on it and super-glue them onto the cows at the farm... but I don't think me boss would like that too much. Last year I called him a scrooge and he fired me. Then hired me again after seeing a ghost comming to kill him, all screaming and shrieking, but he was just drunk that night and his wife was on her period. I didn't tell him that it was just in his blood.
It's early in the morning here. I wonder what I'll do... I think my diary is gettin' bored of me! Er, don't cry diary, I....I slayed a dragon the other day? Yes! See, this nasty old reptilian named Hamilton was bumping on my mail-order bride, and then gobbled her up and flew off.. I tracked him down though. I saw him, and he was all like, "Who's is you?" And I was all like, "I's is Mr. Rodgins, the Greatest!" And he said "Don't you's mean "GREAT"?" And I said "NO. GREATEST, FOR I AM." And then I threw a rock at him. "WHAT WAS THAT FOR?" he said. I told him, "You gobbled up m'wife!" "Wife? She left you for your coworker Sam." I cried manly tears and then sucked it up. "Yeah, but I paid fifty dollars for that AIDS container. Plus shipping and handlin'." And he was all like, "AIDS? SHE'S GOT THEM AIDS?" I nodded. And he said "AW NOOOOOOO." And melted into a pile of dollar bills. $50 to be exact. I still never gots'd my shippin' and handlin' fee back.
Time for cows, dairy! Haha, that's funny.
Golly, a new fancy journal to write in. This is FA-BER-LOUS! I will tell it all me secrets and me thoughts and it won't get up and leave me like Mildred did! Nasty scumbag of a girl. Always smelled like cabbage, she did. But this smells like paper. Oh, the sweet, succulent odor of a new journal! So smooth are your pages, and so finely do they arch when I touch them. You are a shy shade of pink, and you are quite simply gorgeous... a virgin pad of paper, and with my glorious stick of ink, I will dirty the crevices of your binding- excuse me for a minute.
Ah, that's better. Y'know, they say a man shouldn't keep a journal. Because it seems too "feminine". Them men are onions. And they'll peel. Eventually. After women like Mildren run their mouths off too many times. I know I did.
That reminds me, Christmas is coming up. I planned to buy a box filled with those headbands with the antler on it and super-glue them onto the cows at the farm... but I don't think me boss would like that too much. Last year I called him a scrooge and he fired me. Then hired me again after seeing a ghost comming to kill him, all screaming and shrieking, but he was just drunk that night and his wife was on her period. I didn't tell him that it was just in his blood.
It's early in the morning here. I wonder what I'll do... I think my diary is gettin' bored of me! Er, don't cry diary, I....I slayed a dragon the other day? Yes! See, this nasty old reptilian named Hamilton was bumping on my mail-order bride, and then gobbled her up and flew off.. I tracked him down though. I saw him, and he was all like, "Who's is you?" And I was all like, "I's is Mr. Rodgins, the Greatest!" And he said "Don't you's mean "GREAT"?" And I said "NO. GREATEST, FOR I AM." And then I threw a rock at him. "WHAT WAS THAT FOR?" he said. I told him, "You gobbled up m'wife!" "Wife? She left you for your coworker Sam." I cried manly tears and then sucked it up. "Yeah, but I paid fifty dollars for that AIDS container. Plus shipping and handlin'." And he was all like, "AIDS? SHE'S GOT THEM AIDS?" I nodded. And he said "AW NOOOOOOO." And melted into a pile of dollar bills. $50 to be exact. I still never gots'd my shippin' and handlin' fee back.
Time for cows, dairy! Haha, that's funny.
1 Comment
funny