11/12/08:
I am make like having to math every day of the year, so hard that I could throw my math work at a diamond and the diamond would shatter into a million pieces because that’s how hard I does math do. In other news, lichen, all over the place. Not to be confused with Lycans. Those don’t exist... or do they? Just imagine a Lycan lichen – a werelichen, if you will. A man that turns into a ferocious, mindless patch of moss that attacks everyone it sees. Of course, I can’t imagine it would be a very effective attack; in fact it would probably seem to a person like the lichen was just sitting there not moving. If you shoot a werelichen with a silver bullet does that kill it? I’m going to shoot every patch of moss I see on the next full moon with a silver bullet, just in case. That’ll teacharan. Now I will spin around in a circle and pick a direction and go. I got north. I am now going to go north.

3/14/09:
I have made it to the North Pole. I have lost 4 toes to frostbite, and I have no food. I also discovered the main cause of Male-Pattern Baldness while in the middle of the Arctic Ocean. You see, hair is like fire: cavemen invented it. And since most men are no longer cavemen, they have forgotten how to grow hair. This came to me in a dream but I know it’s true because a penguin said so, even though I don’t think I’ve seen any penguins.

3/15/09:
I have gotten back to the United States. I am in Massachusetts, and I have just sent a letter to the President of MIT, to ask for the creation of a new department, the College of Hairology. I have offered to be the head of this department, though I will request that my official title be Bigwig. I, of course, am the expert on Hairology, since I grow out my hair at a mile an hour. However I can use my psychic abilities to cause it to grow back into my head a fraction of an inch less than a mile an hour. Now I’m going to the club to get my swerve on.

3/19/09:
Still no word back. It’s ridiculous, I hold the key to stopping Male-Pattern Baldness, you’d think the moment they read that they’d be rushing over to my shack to hire me. Maybe I won’t do it after all. I could just take the world by storm with my flaming hot dance moves. Also, my delicious milk. I concocted the ultimate milk by pouring samples onto a to-scale miniature model of a ferris wheel, until I crafted the mixture that performed like it should. This mixture has the flavor of ten thousand yeti children playing thirteen sets of Bongo drums using one hydraulic jack. And it is the consistency of liquid gold without any of that metal crap. Also I peed in each bottle, so fresh. But I won’t tell anyone that because then they’d be all over me, trying to get me to give them my key to the Lair of Milk. And now I’m going to sleep.

3/25/09:
You know what I’ve got a problem with? People who have problems. I mean, I was on the bus today, going to TP the President of MIT’s house again since he rejected my request, and there was this guy sitting across from me who kept hitting his head on the wall. And then he kept saying “I’m the first human woodpecker.” And I said, “Keep it to yourself buddy, I’ve got 99 problems and you’re one.” Then he said, “That’s not how the song goes,” and then I said “I know that, idiot,” then I threw him out the window. We might have been on a bridge at the time but I didn’t really check. Anyways the cops came, but I gave them some of my milk and they let me off with a warning.


3/27/09:
Today some fools tried to cop my grapes, so I laid down a beating on those punks. Then they got in their car, so I slashed the tires, blocked the doors, punched holes in the roof, and poured gasoline in. This was all a ruse to get them to give me money. Instead one of the fools lit up a cigarette to calm his nerves and then the whole car blew up. Just more proof that smoking kills. I didn’t think the cops would be so lenient this time so I left a note saying “Soy Milkboy was here” and drove off in my milk truck.

4/1/09:
Today’s April Fool’s Day and the cops are still on my trail. But I’ve got the best prank ever, all I need is a giraffe, handkerchief, a hatchet and a mirror to teach them not to mess with me. Unfortunately, all I could find was a hatchet. Determined to escape capture, I have decided to move to Swaziland for a while.

5/2/09:
This has been the worst month of my life. I’m starving, no one here has any cows I can milk for milk, and I have malaria, dysentery and Ebola. Actually I already got over the Ebola, making me the first survivor of the disease ever. I’m starting to think it’s been long enough for me to return to America. After all, the Presidents of the 20 Universities that have rejected me haven’t gotten their twice-daily TPings in a month now. I will miss Swaziland though, especially the dancing. I’m now a master of the Hamakikawelickoma move. I’m taking my adopted son, Sha Tacalla, with me too.

5/6/09:
Okay so I made it back to the US. I’m sitting in this ambulance right now, pretending to watch this unconscious guy. Maybe if I slip him some milk he’ll wake up. I’m not an EMT, it’s just that secretly riding in ambulances is a hobby of mine. I used to do it in cement mixers too, but that got me maimed. By a tiger. Long story. It’s basically longer than if you were to make everything on Earth into one long string. Longer than that.

5/7/09:
You know what else is long? No? Good, it’s a State Secret. I even keep the secret from myself. But none of this is important. What is important are pollywogs, the champions of the ocean. They own everything, fact. Except they don’t even know that they do, because they went extinct tomorrow. But I’m rambling. The whole point of the long thing was I wanted to say that this car ride I’m taking is lasting forever. I just want to get this killer whale out of my trunk. I’ve been driving for 15 seconds now. Driving and writing isn’t very safe.

6/9/09:
So I definitely lost my diary for the last month. I found it today in a bird’s nest. Don’t ask me how it got there or why I was in a tree looking into birds’ nests. Both are also state secrets. Okay, not really. I was looking in birds’ nest because I was hungry, and there’s nothing more delicious than eggs. As to how it got in a birds’ nest, I have no clue. Most likely it was because my neighbor got all jealous and threw bird seed all over my house while I was asleep, and the bird army came and took the birdseed and the book, thinking that the book held the key to infinite bird seed generation.

6/18/09:
You know how dogs are always the enemy of the mailmen? Well, bears are the enemies of milkmen. I was at the zoo today selling milk to people and some guy pushed me into the bear exhibit because he was high on PCP or something. So all of the bears immediately surrounded me, and started to come towards me. I summoned and readied the trusty Milkstaff, the weapon all milkmen can call upon in times of dire need. The battle was long and arduous. Attack! Parry! WINDMILL!!!! I thrust my staff into 5 bears’ chests, killing them all at once before they hit the ground. The day was a triumph.

7/3/09:
Tomorrow is the 4th of July, so I’ve been very busy filling all the orders. Milk is the most-used thing on Independence Day, by a thousand times more than the second most-used thing (crutches). People use milk for the strangest things, like paint thinner, ceiling tiles and internet service providers.
Unfortunately, since the secret ingredient in my milk is my urine, I’ve been chugging water and peeing nonstop for a week. That’s why I haven’t made any entries lately. In other news, I’m running a marathon tomorrow. I decided yesterday when I wasn’t sleeping (which was all day). My milk will keep me going when my legs cramp up and I pass out from overdosing on apple pie.

7/5/09:
So it turns out there was no marathon. The race was a trap by the Fresh & Easy corporates to try and take me out of commission. It seems that the hairless droids that make their soy milk took over the company, and their mission is to eradicate all real milk. I noticed something was wrong when I was in the crowd waiting for the race to start, and noticed none of them were breathing. I left to go get some milk from my truck and the race started off, but instead of running everyone in the crowd exploded. They were robots that were supposed to kill me. Then I went over and stomped on all the twisted, charred metal bits. Take that frich-hairs!

7/9/09:
I’ve been on the move since then, because these guys in white cloaks sporting classy watches have been trying to talk to me. They’re smart, wearing white, so throwing my milk on them has no effect. They even have white eyes, so my milk can’t blind them. I’m hiding right now in my milk truck, which I disguised as a mail truck. Actually I just stole a mail truck and put my milk in it. I had my dog attack a mailman and ran in and jacked his truck. They don’t call me the Milk Ninja Man for nothing.

7/14/09:
Chicken fingers. I wonder if anyone ever thinks about that name. Chicken don’t have fingers, and chicken fingers don’t even look like fingers. They should be called chicken slabs. Or chicken milk slabs. Mine should, at least, since I make mine with almost all milk, and only a little chicken and batter. They taste so good that it’s like getting a genie that gives you the most delicious thing of all time. When I gave my recipe to KFC they literally tried to kill me, after asking me “How did you learn the secret blend of herbs and spices?!?!?!??!?!” It took all of my skills to escape them. But that was 30 years ago. Also, I haven’t had “chicken fingers” in 29 years. I’m a vegan now anyways, except for the milk.

7/29/09:
I’m still trying to find my “Y” Prime, the stamp I use on all of my milk bottles. Without it, no one will know it’s my delicious milk they’re getting. I’ll bet an arsonist burned it, because he ran out of hairs on his head to burn. Waste of hair I always said, but do they listen to me? No. They just take out their flamethrowers and light stuff on fire, and I have to put out their heads with my pee. The trick is that my pee is more flammable than oil. What a good joke. Anyways I just found my stamp. It was in my mouth.

8/10/09:
Today I found an old taco shell on the ground. It looked so lonely and hairless that I adopted it. It’s name is Hairy Harry the Hairiest Hair of all HairsMcGee the 3rd. It will live in an aquarium filled with milk. I’m too cheap to actually get an aquarium so I have filled my sink with milk. Speaking of sinks, I broke a sink once, with a hammer. Then I had to slurp everything out of the faucet so it wouldn’t spill into the broken sink. That reminds me, I should alter all my faucets so that milk comes out of them.

8/24/09:
Today is my birthday. To celebrate I invited over a milkman from a neighboring city, a pen light, and three workers from McDonalds. And by “invited” I mean “kidnapped,” except for the pen light, which I built. They wouldn’t even sing me Happy Birthday, some friends. So I decided to go into town and find a motivational speaker to cheer me up. I found the perfect guy sitting on the side of the highway holding a sign that read “Give me food yo or I’ll bust a cap in yo cracka face.” I picked him up and we’re going on a cross-country motivational tour.

9/1/09:
So today we arrived in Phoenix to spread our message of Milk Motivation to the masses. In Phoenix, since it’s really hot, I think my new milk-ice product will be smash. Milk-ice is so motivational for people that live in the extreme heat, because their milk gets warm in 5 seconds, and if they use normal ice then their milk gets watery when the ice melts. Other benefits of milk-ice are for people that live in cold places, they can make milk-igloos. Anyways I think I should take my motivational campaign straight to the State Capitol, where all the government officials can get motivated by my motivational speaker and my milk-ice.

9/7/09:
Ok, NOW I’m going to do my motivational day at the Capitol. My motivational speaker got lost and I just found him today. For whatever reason he doesn’t seem happy, he was probably just in shock from the fear of being away from me. To make sure he can’t get lost again I put him on a leash. I hope he’s been rehearsing the motivational speech about milk-ice I prepared for him a couple weeks ago. Also I dressed him in a cow costume to really drive home the message to the Governor. Anyways, we’re sneaking in through the air vents since they didn’t let us in the front.

9/9/09:
I love new cities. They’re so fresh – like my milk. And Tucson’s pretty nice, especially after Phoenix left a bad taste in my mouth – like soy milk does. I can’t believe the Governor didn’t buy into milk-ice. So I figure I’ll go to Seattle next, this city’s too shady. It’d be a great place to hide evidence, though. Now that I’ve picked up some artificial artichoke hearts, I can go off to Seattle.

9/12/09:
Still on the road, going out of my mind with boredom. I heard that plagiarism is a good way to relieve boredom, so here’s my plagiarism: “I left the car without putting on the alarm. No human being would ever think of trying to steal it in any case: The protective spells would provide greater security than any alarm system. Svetlana and I walked briskly up the steps without speaking and went into her apartment.” In other news, I’m pregnant. Wait I meant hungry, not pregnant, if I had kids, one day they would grow to be the founders of life on the moon, and that’s a fact. Too bad I’m already married to my milk. Literally.

9/25/09:
My mom once told me that my hair was too long. I responded, “No, you can’t even see me because you died in a cheerleading scandal thirty years ago,” and she said “Oh yeah,” and left. I thought about this when I got to Seattle because I ran over a cheerleading squad as I came in. Undaunted, I climbed out of my milk truck and performed surgery and put in the artificial artichoke hearts. Then I drove off, confident that they would soon awaken. I set up shop on the Space Needle and brought out the motivational speaker, and he jumped off the edge. That’s fine, I was going to fire him anyways. Except I was going to fire him with fire.

10/2/09:
I buried a squirrel today. First I harvested all of its milk, then I buried it in a sandbox in a playground since I didn’t have any digging tools. Now that I’ve replenished my milk supply I can get onto the next job: spray painting my logo on every homeless person in Seattle. They can’t afford tattoos, so I’m giving them something just as good for free. Some people don’t want my logo on them but they just don’t know what’s good for them. If they did they wouldn’t choose to be homeless.

10/10/09:
I have developed a bad habit recently. I think the technical term is “chronic fits of hysteria, delusion, and rampant destruction.” I prefer to think of it as the first step on my way to prophet status. It’s well known that all prophets eventually have money given to them by throngs in the streets, so I’ll just keep up my habit until it happens. Like the police yesterday, they wanted to ask me some questions about artichokes and I told them I didn’t care for art or asphyxiation. I was lying on both counts, naturally.

10/17/09:
The heat has been on me in increasing quantities. I’m thinking I should get out, and into the shade. Someplace shady, if you know what I mean. I tried bathing in milk-ice but it only made things worse. I think I’ll head north across the border to Canada, where the heat is more lenient, eh? Even got a Canadian accent, eh? I don’t have a map, I think my motivational speaker used my only one as toilet paper, but no matter. Canada can’t be that hard to find, eh?

10/25/09:
Canada looks strangely like Tucson if you ask me. I think maybe they disguised Canada as Arizona so that the French would leave. They even imported tons of cacti. All in all this is a good thing, I would have preferred to have gone back to Tucson with all of its shadiness. I think that this bump in the road is made of confetti. I’ve been having lots of thoughts like that lately, I don’t know why. Probably because of the talking coconut on my shoulder. See there’s another weird thought. Help me maeth.

11/2/09:
I’m on the run now. I’m hiding in this tall building shaped like a ship. I’m in a supply closet, they’ll never find me here. I lost my milk truck yesterday. It was there one minute, and the next I was laying in a gutter covered with Coco Puffs and moths, and my milk truck was flying away into the rainbow. So I crawled until I found a bee hive, and then I wore it as a hat. And here I am, in a supply closet, reinventing calculus with spray cheese and a pack of Pokemon cards. Wish me luck.

11/11/09:
My right hand has been numb for the last 3 hours. This coincides with the amount of times I have been bludgeoned to death with a hummingbird. Which is to say, my horse is on empty and my arm hairs aren’t talking to my nose hairs. I’m going to be a sailor tomorrow. Now my pen is dissolving. This is bad, it means my hand is soon to follow. My only hope is to drop them all now. Farewell, loyal journal, please don’t give yourself to the police. Now I’m leaving Tucson, to find a whale to lynch before it’s too late for the soles on my shoes that are on my ears.