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Thursday, May 26, 2005
I am the 9th sexiest woman of 2001, goshfukkit! I deserve better than this.
I can understand Donald wanting me to cook for him. Yes, all men need the affirmation that a woman cooking for them truly loves them. Besides, I am not one of those lesbian feminists. I know how to please my man.
It's just that Donald insists that I cook for him and that stupid otter.
Honestly, dear diary, I don't know why he keeps it. Thankfukkinggod, it's not a Phil Spector, but still. Don King's albino zebra, Simon, is so much nicer and natural. I really like Simon.
The otter is itchy. Real human hair, they said. That's caca.
Plus, the otter farts all the time. I don't know what gives it so much gas; maybe it's the refried beans. Mental note: avoid Mexican.
So anyhow, the otter - Jerry - comes to bed with us. Keeps saying the nightlight went out in his room. Then Jerry always steals the blankets. I wake up and I am freezing. If it weren't for the pre-nup dictates, I'd be wearing a jogging suit to bed.
Dear Diary, please give me the patience I need.
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