The First Diary

Do not imagine, dear Diary, that I have not been kidnapped before. The first time . . . but no, I must go farther back than that. It all began with another diary, or two other diaries, one imaginary, one real, and the mix-up betwixt the two.

But let me first tell you that I have learned how to Add Pictures! And if you do not believe me, here is proof:

There, gentle Diary, is the man for whom I would have given the world. [Looks like a bit of a weed to me. ~Ed.] I sketched him and Mrs. Wells took the sketch and put it on her lapdog.

Do you notice the noble brow, the fine, sensitive mouth? Is it any wonder this gentleman occupied my thoughts for so many years? [You dwell too long on irrelevancies, here. Get to the point, ma’am. ~Ed.]

Mrs. Wells has a number of interesting things on her lapdog [I am reliably informed the word is ‘laptop’. Use correct terminology, please.~Ed.] Including this. I was shocked, until she assured me it was purely for the purposes of research.

Ah, Sven has arrived with cocktails. More anon!