Dear Diary,
Today I tried to go to Chik-fil-A (my favorite restaurant, I only like it because I'm very religious) and it was closed, so lame. So, the only, option B, was Arby's. I walked out smelling like seasoned french fries and au jus, and it made everyone swoon for me. Why can't they just like my musk? Old factory Gibson? It's like Lady Gaga always says, we were born this way. I just decided that this was the worst thing that had ever happened to me.
Love,
Zac
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