Not Broken, Just Bent.

"Dear Diary,

Today, not a very good day. Had this bestest friend ever that I trusted to the ends of the Earth, (which is round, btw,) go and pull the drama card, like, 3 times in one day. He got the cops involved, and suddenly I'm on trial.
I guess it really is lonely at the top, because suddenly everyone's, like, "Nope, don't know that dude," and they're getting all buddy-buddy with this other guy who's like, a goat fucker or something, and the judge is all paid off and king. (We both know the goat fucker is prettier and will look nicer on papyrus. I can't help that I got Dad's nose.)
Come on! I do nifty tricks! I'm great at parties! But nooooo, suddenly I'm the guy with the social plague.

Dad says that it'll be all good soon, and I know he's like wicked powerful, but I'm getting a little nervous. I've never been much on the heavy lifting, and they've got some lumber that need moving or something.

Anyway, Dairy, if I don't get back to you within the next three days or so, this has been a

V. Bad Friday.

I hope these people stop hassassing guys who just wanted to, like, get along and help the poor and shit.

I mean, Christ! It's not like I can raise the dead or anything...

- J. "