I Feel Funny

My only solace this day is YOU, my dear Diary.

After I stripped to my underoos, tied a shirt around my head, and rushed down the hall shouting "Free Tibet" last night, Father has had me confined to my room until the apparent affects of LovelySugarDelight leave my system.

I fear I shall never see Benson again. But my soul tells me that he, he alone, was REAL and not a fantasy generated by sugar and spice and everything snickerdoodle.

So here I lie, snuggled up on my feather bed cradling you. Oh, if only I were cradling a form slightly more caress-worthy, such as that of my perfect pomegranate, Lady McD. As it stands, rubbing my cheek against your well worn cover shall have to suffice.

Though it's a bit scratchy.

Since I am here for I know not how long, without even the prospect of Blueberry Pancakes to look forward to...EVER AGAIN (GASP!), I thought I might flip through the books that Father lent me.

Oh yes. Father has actually given me ANOTHER present! He gave me a box of what I imagine are the books that changed his life, taught him to be a lion among men, and King to be remembered (especially if he should unexpectedly be bloodily murthered while away at a celebratory post-military victory weekend, or something like that.) I can't begin to express how touched and moved I am that Father would choose to impart these gifts, this wisdom to me.

So, I shall open the Box of Fatherly Affection here with you, my dearest Diary, for I wish you to share in my joy.

DIARY.

I don't exactly know what to say. The books appear to be be a collection of novels. Novels about...NASCAR? And romance.

NASCAR and Romance.

THIS is what Father wants me to read? THIS is what Father wishes me to learn from? Surely this is yet another cruel joke. If Father hadn't hadn't handed them to me myself saying "For goddsakes, get some action" I would be convinced it was another of Young Siward's tricksy tricks.

Well, I don't wish to doubt him. Nor do I wish to scoff at a gift from Father, since they are so infrequent.

Let's see...this one is called "Rigid Tire Iron".

Diary. I'm not sure exactly what a "double entendre" is, but I think this might be a genuine one!

......

OMG! DIARY. I think it's been 7 hours.

I've just finished "Checking The Undercarriage" and I can't decide if I like that one, "Bright Headlights" or "Fully Engaged Emergency Break Lever" best.

Diary, the things I have read! I feel more a man than ever! After Chapter 3 of "Gear Shift" I knew that I'd found the key to winning the heart, and the "chassis" (wink, wink!) of my Pit Crew Princess!

Diary, I must put you to rest for a small time while I finish "Oil Change". Be still my heart, what wonders await me among its pages!

Revving my engine,

Y.B.P.M.

Back to Earth

Dearest Diary,
Cook is gone. Father had herm (a lovely compromise between him and her, if I do say so myself) taken away for good! I do not fully understand why, but I think it had something to do with my inter-dimensional escapades. Apparently Cook's secret ingredient in herm "ScrumptiousGoodTimes" snickerdoodles is causing me to have these "visions." Cook once told me that they had a special ingredient that was included just for me...sweet, innocent, trusting me. Cook said the secret ingredient was "LovelySugarDelight," and that made the cookies even more scrumptious than the cinnamon (if that's even possible!). Apparently, there is nothing called "LovelySugarDelight," though the vial containing said magic had the same initials.
Father assures me that Y.S-G. does not have a daemonically possessed hand, nor do I have muscles from here to Tuesday (I asked if I could possibly have muscles from here to Monday and he still said no). Though he did say it with a sigh...perhaps he felt bad for covering up the truth? Possibly, but...oh no. What if...Benson? NO, BENSON! I MUST find a way to get ahold of more ScrumptiousGoodTimes or else Benson might vanish for good!
Diary I must leave expeditiously to procure the bottle of "LovelySugarDelight" so that I don't loose Benson forever!

Speedily and Clandestinely Yours,
Y.B.P.M.

SnuggleFish!

Since it's such a bleak, bleary, rainy day, I brought my Scrumptious Good Times Snickerdoodles right up back to you my dearest diary. This way, we can enjoy the loveliness of snuggling up in a cozy tent made up of all of my favorite blankies, and write my poetry in SECRET.

There now. Isn't that nice? Normally on days such as this, I would be pop in "The Thornbirds" (OMG, that movie just makes me BAWL) but Father has recently put the kibosh on ALL films or television involving Richard Chamberlain. With that rule in place, I might as well watch nothing at all!

First things first. If I'm to win the heart of my Dusky Mistress with verse, I must find something just as poetic and lovely to describe her...well, demesnes if you will, as the fluffy pink pillows of her lips. The best way to go about this, most understanding and indulgent of diaries, is to list all the things that make me THINK of Lady McD's...erm...flower petals.

• Tootsie Pops


• Grapefruit


• My loofah


• Key Lime flavored Ice cream


• Mini Reese's Peanut Butter Cups
• Moisturizing Body Lotion
• Baklava
• Butterflies
• Unicorns of the Sea (aka, Benson)
• Curling ribbon
• ANY song by Justin Timberlake
• The Koi Pond in the back garden

In all honesty, Diary, I could go on for hours. It seems everywhere I look all I see are...well, I think you can guess. I think this is good starting place, and between you, me, Teddy and Roxy we are sure to come up with something that will last the ages and sufficiently express my most mannish desires!

Now...since Father hasn't yet banned Cary Elwes, "Lady Jane" it shall be! Oh, I love a good period drama!

Farewell for now!

Y.P.M.