(diaryland) November 21, 2001 - 3:28 p.m.

I've gotten into a rather nasty habit of thinking the word "guy" after every tiny little thought I make.

Like this: "It's time to put the rubbish out, guy." Or this: "That was a good TV show, guy." Help me, guy.

And everything I actually say to other people has "child" at the end of it now. Like this: "Wanna go see a movie, child?" Or this: "Come here, child."

What is it with "guy" and "child"? I don't know. It is an evil habit and must be destroyed with a metal alloy fist.

Neat! A random guy came to my door and now I'm going to do a survey about my attitudes towards living in Australia. I'm busy now. Goodbye.