Evil Headquarters, 8:35 am. "We have finally managed to create the ultimate weapon of mass destruction. You have the rest of the week off."
	I am only writing this because a) My social life is about to fall off the end of the world, never to be seen again by anyone who remotely classifies as a human being, b) I feel like amusing you because, y’know, that’s, like, what I do, what with the childish predicament the world has put itself in, and c) The list of candidates for the “most predictably insane being (and I stress the word “being”) on the planet” award is growing worryingly big. Aside from that, my ‘Always look on the dark side of life’ motto is proving to be very useful, as any optimists walking around as if they own the planet, with their heads so far up their arses that it would take Australia’s most efficient fire brigade a month and a half to get them out again are all scheduled to die slow and painful deaths involving violins, handcuffs and a pair of socks. Actually, I was planning to tell you all about Japan and what a bollocks time I’m having here. Two weeks living in a one-bedroom flat inhabited mainly by plants and other inferior creatures with whom I am forced to share the earth with (i.e my brother), and still I have managed to keep my insanity under control. I have also conveniently discovered a new, and very much authentic, oxymoron: “U.S Intelligence.” (In case you’re an American, don’t take this seriously). If you are the type of person who likes to name your socks, or if you are intrigued by the fact that bananas don’t have seeds, then please exit the auditorium immediately, otherwise you will be stampeded to death by a hoard of people who just so happen to find you extremely irritating.
		Evil Headquarters, a few minutes later. "On second thoughts, your week long holiday is cancelled. Your next holiday is not until Christmas. If you have any queries or complaints, do not be afraid to contact the presidency, who will then shoot you in between the eyes with a slingshot."
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