10:42 AM: Morning taping of Maury Povich Show. Yelled at 13-year-old hussy
until she tearfully promised to change her ways. Spent further 20 minutes yelling at her tears.
12:04 PM: Lunch break from taping. Yelled at deli worker until he gave me my food. Yelled at loogie for being in my pastrami sandwich. Yelled at my sandwich in reverse, which some people call eating.
1:18 PM: Afternoon taping of Maury. Yelled at 13-year-old girl for being pregnant. Yelled at her unborn fetus for making the girl so pregnant. Fired from show.
3:59 PM: Arrived at court-appointed anger management-related community service.
4:04 PM: Forcibly removed from orphanage after reading to abused children for only two minutes. They are left wondering how Goodnight
Moon ends.
6:51 PM: Returned home to walk-up apartment in Brooklyn. Yelled at broken toaster oven, which is shamed into fixing itself. Yelled at refrigerator for having no food to toast.
7:02 PM: Leaned out of window and yelled at market across the street for food. Wayward bird is sucked into my mouth, solving the dinner problem.
7:22 PM: Ran to park and vociferated at squirrel for its dilatoriness. Also attended impromptu Vocabulary Building Workshop tent
before returning home again.
8:31 PM: Agent calls to inform me I’ve been hired to host MSNBC’s new talk show, Hey Dickmouth! Expressed gentle gratitude to agent for seven minutes before inhaling phone.
10:40 PM: Angry sleep. Eagerly awaited chance to yell at my dreams.
