Dear Diary,

Today I killed a man. I didnt really mean to do it. I just kinda slipped when I had a butcher knife in my hand. Totally not my fault that the guy was standing there. He was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. It was a wrong day for him. I think his name was Ted. Ted is dead. HA! That rhymed. I guess that makes his death easier to swallow. Not that I would try to eat him or anything. I dont really care for the dead. Too cold for my tastes. But you know what I do like to eat? Buttered rolls. Them things is cra-zay good. I loves to eat em. I eat em in a box with a fox with chicken pox.

Ah the wonders of insanity...