Dear Diary,
So Dave finally turned up with them fuckin pastries. Impetint bastard even had the neck to ask if he could have one. I told him to fuck right off with himself. "For fuck sake, Dave", I said, "what took ye so long? Ye didn't have to get changed into that suit just to bring me the Danishes. Semi-formal woulda been grand".
And the cunt goes to say something, but I throw him a look as if to say "I dare ye", and he shuts his gob. Smart move, Fanning... or my shoe woulda been stuck in a orifice it that can't get out of.
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