"Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe.
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mame raths outgrabe."

Admist all those gires and outgrabings I had the sanity to record this journal. Of course nothing really happened worth writing down.

Except that one weird guy came by my house with his dog Bart-von-Benooth. Bart-von-Benooth bit me, so I had to shoot him with my handy Mossberg pump action shotgun. All that was left was an ...ooth.

Well that guy ran away before I could pump him full of lead as well. Too bad...

"Look in my face. My name is Might-Have-Been;
I am also called No-More, Too-Late, Farewell."

That ...ooth stared stinking so I ate it. Wasn't very tasty.

"Me thinks she dost protest too much."

That weird guy came by with an AR-15 today, started shooting through my walls. Little did he know I had a few LAW missiles stacked away in my basement. You should have seen his face before the rocket turned him into gelatinous fragments.

Well that guy's wife came over when he didn't come home, so I dropped her into my personal bottomless pit. I can still hear her screaming.

"Everybody knows who I am; Oedipus. King."

That damn credit card lady called again today. Doesn't she realize I don't want one? I am going to have to find where she lives and kill her.

Went to Bob's Gunshop today and picked up one of those new high-velocity large-calibre pistols. Shot Bob with it. All in all it was a boring day.

"Just because you have a bad perception
of reality doesn't mean I'm an idiot."

Dang Bob's body was stinking up something fierce. So, of course, I ate him. Even worse than that ...ooth tasted.