Do you like my new hat?Kay, off-camera: "No I do not. Goodbye"
Dear Diary,
Do you like my new hat?
Kay, off-camera: "No I do not. Goodbye"
Are you staring at me?
This is called "stylish safety equipment".
It's in case I fall off Dad's back, by accidentally.
I am four and one-eighth years old today. I have developed style. It's really quite easy. Style seems to mean acting like you know what you want to wear no matter what. Hey, that's nearly the same as being arrogant, so it's a piece of cake for me. I gather you have to want to wear the same stuff for a few days in a row, at least for it to be called style. That complicates it. How does anyone get to be stylish without starting to smell?
Recently, Teddy thinks it is clever to squirt juice down his shirt. That's him out of the style race.
Listen, the next person to say the word "valkyrie" gets kicked in the groin.
Just kidding.
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