(diaryland) March 15, 2002 - 4:09 p.m.

High drama at my shared castle.

The evil overlords sent us a letter telling us we were very messy. Me and the other two kids, the triumvirate of goodness, decided they were wrong. Us, messy? NO WAY! We�d never dream of it. The letter told us to pull our fingers out of our butts and try a hell of a lot harder. I took offence because my finger is only in my butt 0.001% of the day, and sometimes it doesn�t even go near there for weeks. We were also perturbed because the letter arrived on a very clean castle day.

Anyway, we got out our swords and were just about to get an army ready to storm their evil unfinished environmentally friendly fortress in the forest, when suddenly, I TURNED EVIL.

It was my parents� doing. I decided to show them the letter and do whatever they told me to do. They told me that the evil overlords were right; we were brats. Then I got to thinking, hey. I am a lazy turd. I suck at housekeeping. I agree with the evil overlords! I accept their letter! They are actually uncomfortably overprotective GOOD overlords!

I rode back to our castle, very upset at the realisation I was actually a slacker, and told them I now agreed with the evil overlords. Sir Roland, the neatest of us three, got real sad and yelled, �FUCK!� at me. He said that if we didn�t act now, we�d eventually end up wearing tissue boxes on our feet. He said, �YOU�VE BETRAYED ME!� I said, fuck that. I can�t be bothered doing any more than be cleaner, which I needed to do anyway, and that will appease the overlords and everyone will be happy and much less asthmatic.

He stormed off and I told Little Princess Diane what I now thought, which I can�t remember anymore. It�s all very confusing. We�re still going to meet with the army tomorrow, but I simply can�t be arsed fighting. I�ve got a bad cold, and I�ve read the darned letter so much that I am no longer personally hurt by the emotional ramblings in it.

FUUUUUUUUUCK IIIIIIIIIIIT.