Sometimes I can be so funny.  I really like going through my old blog posts, sometimes to find inspiration, but most of the time just because I amuse myself.  So when I find something I particularly enjoy, I’ll share it here.

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Dear Diary,
I hate getting a bad bag of beef jerky.  It’s like getting a great piece of cake and then someone sneezes on it.  It’s such a tease, because it’s beef jerky.  And then it’s gross.  And then I’m sad.

Not that anyone has sneezed on my cake before, Diary.  If they had, I would punch them in the face.

Last night the The Destroyer and I were discussing our thoughts on suicide and the people that commit or attempt it, and in the process I used an analogy that compared life to a giant piece of luscious chocolate cake.  I’ve been thinking about cake a lot.  Also I can apparently turn any discussion into a talk about food.  Even suicide.  But food is a much more enjoyable topic, anyway, Diary.  Not that you would know.  I don’t make crumbs.

Love,
me

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