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Humpday

In this journal, I'm writing to you, the reader. I don't know who you are. You could be me in the future -- a different person than me now. If so, hi! Welcome back.

If, on the other hand, you are not me and you are reading this without permission, and I am not dead... get yer cottin'-pickin' hands offen my book and keep yer nose where it belongs!!

If I'm dead -- go ahead an' read it. By the way, it is all true.

TIME PERIOD OF READER UNKNOWN.
TOTAL IGNORANCE ASSUMED.

I don't know your identity. I don't know if you know me or when you will read this. I'll have to assume you know next to nothing about me or my era.

So now I will tell you about myself, O Mysterious Reader. I'll continue this description for as many days as it takes, inserting only those current events which seem really worth putting down. So here goes:

My name is, of course, Barton Paul Everson. I am a male U.S. citizen (born that way) of sixteen years. I was born on the 17th day of January in 1967 A.D. In thirteen days I'll celebrate my 17th birthday.

Oops -- time for bed!