Dear diary, today was a wild one.

The wolfman swung by the castle with a little lunchable ofbed dude whose blood alcohol content was high enough to send me to the moon.

Wolfman wanted to see my new automobile and I was like,

I'm in no shape to drive wolf man and he was like don't worry I got

this so we grooved on down to Loominow and well long story short we hit an older lady with the car so hard she exploded.

Now I'm no fan of senseless violence, but I must admit that sometimes it is very very funny. Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,

oh, oh, oh,

oh, oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, What? Lady Godwin. Yeah, he is.

You are standing in a vast field of golden glistening oats.

And you are strong and tall and quadrupedal

and for the first time in your life truly free of the shackles of what society

expects from him.

There is a soft wind rustling the grain,

carrying the sweet smell of oats through the pasture

and back down to a freshly painted farmhouse in the distance.

You see by the perimeter a wild silver stallion, sinewy and imposing, and it frolics up to you and runs a lap around you before making eye contact with you and leaping over the fence

towards the woods where all the other wild horses row.

What do you do?

Um, I think I gotta get just a big mouthful of votes.

You are accustomed to the finer things in this life.

You, in your original body consumed any number of small plates and award-winning meals from restaurants across the city.

Nothing rivals this first bite of beautiful golden oats.

...