(diaryland) July 20, 2001 - 6:05 p.m.

Dear Diaryland User,

Hi. You know me. Not very well, I guess. I am on your favourites list, though. And you are on mine. And I see you in chat every so often. I do not know how often you actually read my diary, but I read yours a hell of a lot. Every day, almost. I never sign the guestbook, but Damn, it's good. Even when it's not about anything unusual, it paints weird pictures. Going down to the shops for you is some kind of elaborate oil painting. And what you write is never nonsense. And you do interesting things. Everybody likes you. It's not difficult to see why. Your taste in music is like, cool. And you do musical things. And you are clever like someone who knows how to be clever. And you listen to people, probably. And you are so frigging polite. Goddamn. And every now and then, you just drop me a line to say, "Hi. How's stuff going?" and that's just neat-o. I printed the last one out and kept it, mofo. I always wish I'll bump in to you in chat, and sometimes it happens. If only you lived near my house. I'm not going to send this to you (having a fan moment, see), and I'm not going to ask you whether you've read it, but here is a song I wrote. Maybe you'll hum along to it or something. Soy Chicken.

Yours sincerely,
Diaryland User.

(drunk ninja)