June 17th 1914-Dear Journal, since the conspicuously repulsive facial hair is getting me a lot of attention I’m going to let it stay and merely attribute it to my being a “real natural woman”.

P.S- And it’s not like I’ll be kissing anyone anytime.

September 2nd 1916-Dear Journal, I have begun reading a lot of books that probably were written with the intention of boring people to death. I feel that mindlessly barfing the things that I read in front of others will make me appear to be more intelligent than I really am, which actually is no more intelligent than a thong.

May 4th 1917-Dear Journal, wherever I turn there are pretty girls. Even the ones that looked like the underneath of mud-stained shoes have taken care of themselves and become like the upper surface of sandals. I feel bitter and alone.

July 25th 1918-Dear Journal, I have decided to pretend to protest the objectification and de-individualization (words that mean naught to me) of women by burning bras tomorrow.

July 26th 1918-Dear Journal, I realize that I don’t have any bras in my closet as I have never had to use them*.

* -alludes to the lack of sizeable knockers.

July 27th 1918-Dear Journal, I bought some bras and I burned them as a false symbol of the false character that I falsely shout only I have.

February 1st 1920-Dear Journal, the lack of attention that men are giving me is driving me crazy. I wore a low cut dress today with a pair of low waist jeans; the men looked away as if I was the goddamn solar eclipse.

October 11th 1924-Dear Journal, I’m thirty years old. Most women around me are either married or at least hitched. The result of the bitterness and latent discontent that I have been harboring all these years stare at me starkly.

October 12th 1925-Dear Journal, I have decided to marry a buffalo which is quite common among some cultures.

October 13th 1926-Dear Journal, I visited my uncle’s farm today and I have found myself a wonderful black, horny (as in having horns), bushy-tailed buffalo. We are going to get married tomorrow.

P.S- I’m so excited. The walk down the aisle is going to be so special.

October 14th 1927-Dear Journal, my uncle called today and broke me the horrible news. My fiancé jumped off a cliff and killed himself.

P.S- I had him with some rice for dinner. He was a bit overcooked.

April 8th 1930-Dear Journal, I have thrust upon myself the idiotic notion that marriage is legalized prostitution and that it’s society’s way of controlling women further. This way, I have something to say when my mom bugs me about not getting married.

May 28th 1932-Dear Journal, I stumbled upon the concept of lesbianism. By completely avoiding men from my life perhaps I can find at least a smidgeon of happiness. Also, I can tell the world that men are crazy jerks and I’d rather stick with my own kind.

June 6th 1932-Dear Journal, a lesbian talked to me today. I think she likes me. We are going to a Chinese Restaurant tomorrow to have dinner.

June 7th 1933-Dear Journal, the lesbian dumped me today in the middle of our date for the Chinese waitress who had much larger chopsticks*.

* -synonym of knockers.

TO BE CONTINUED…

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