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February 10, 2010

Dear Diary

Chuck Bell needs to die. I crushed him on the radio but what I wanted to say and resisted, is that I want to carve out his eyeballs, but keep them attached to the optic nerve, that’s important, lather them in honey, and set them in a petri dish of Brazilian fire ants.

Also, I bought some new pants from Lord and Taylor that I took back 3 times but ultimately decided to keep. But I’m afraid they make my rear end look big. I’m so ugly. I hate them.

February 19, 2010

Dear Diary

Jeanne wants me to give up crushing people for lent, but that’s 40 days. 40 DAYS! My moronic colleagues say all kinds of terrible things about me, most of which are probably true. But, reciprocity! I bet most of colleagues don’t even know what the god damned word means. I work with idiots. I am SO much smarter than them, and I just know they resent me for it. It’s not easy being the cleverest guy in the room.

Btw, diary…you know who’s still getting it done? Lauren Bacall. Oh my god. I don’t care if she is 86. I wonder if she knows who I am. She might watch PTI. I sure hope so. She’s so cute.

March 7, 2012

Dear Diary

People at this station are abject, knuckle-dragging, cretinous douche-bags. Someone spilled coffee all over the board of my studio yesterday for some stupid public access level waste of time. The game is afoot, diary. I intend to find them, and filet their pancreas right in front of their arrogant god damn face. And then I’m going to spread it on some Ritz crackers and shove this culinary nightmare into their smug pie hole!

Also, there was no god damned grapefruit juice at the Safeway again!

April 16, 2012

Dear Diary

The NFL schedule just came out. Oh god. On September 17th I would have gone to Atlanta and then on the 24th I would have had to be in Seattle.