Monday, April 11, 2005
Richard, stop studying for exams, and come to Flesherton on some sort of flying contraption and swing on a swing for at least four minutes with me. I need to kidnap someone quick, and force them to swing on a swing with me. Or at least someone knock me unconscious. I don't think I can put up with this agonizing sense of boredom, which has dug itself deep inside the middle of my forehead, any longer.
