Hey, don't call this a "diary"; it's a JOURNAL, OK?
And Nadia says I'm supposed to write in this thing every day: She wants me to write about my "feelings" and all that stuff. But the real reason I agreed to keep this dia... I mean... JOURNAL is because someday when I am really famous, I guess the cops will want to ask me a bunch of questions, and anyway, how am I supposed to remember the names of all the girls who cavorted naked in my pool and had lesbian sex with Nadia? I'll tell you, if I had a penny for every "happy ending" some Yugoslavian sex slave gave me, I'd be a rich man!!
Oh, wait! I am a rich man!!! HAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
Wanna know something that really stinks? It's when somebody steals your journal and then tries to sell it for $50,000. Because this is my own creative property and everything. But between me and you, I never liked that gardener Alfredo Rodriguez; I always thought he had cooties. He was always hanging around like he wanted a piece of my action. As if!!!!
He must of thought I was pretty dumb leaving my diary around for anybody to snoop through or steal, with a bunch of names of underaged girls I'd humped and the date of the humping. I bet he was mad because me and Nadia and Maximillia used to say "P.U.!" whenever he came around.
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But what Mr. Alfredo doesn't know is that I can make him "disappear" anytime I want to with a wave of the wand from my Amazing Magic Kit. Hey, it sure worked great to make my grand jury investigation vanish!