Dear Dumb Diary Sneak Peek: Take Three
(Just between us, you can find Jamie's latest complete diary, Dear Dumb Diary #9: That's What Friends Aren't For, in stores now . . . but don't tell her that!)
Dear Dumb Diary,
So now I'm friends with Angeline. This is an Automatic Friendship, and I have to just accept it and make the best of things.
See, if I objected, then Aunt Carol might divorce Angeline's uncle, sending both of them tumbling into a deep pit of depression for the rest of their lives, and Angeline could wind up feeling so guilty that she would have to go be locked up in an old dirty insane asylum for years and years, and Stinker's puppies would grow up not knowing both their parents — and I couldn't live with myself for doing something like that to a puppy.
I've talked to Isabella about the Angeline thing, since she's my BFF. That's what best friends are for, after all. But she seems to think that we should be friends with Angeline, and that if I'm having a problem with Angeline, we should just hug it out.
You know, maybe that would help. When you think about it, choking is just a hug that your hands give to a throat.
Isabella says that Angeline thinks of the three of us like BFFs. I could have pointed out to Isabella that, last time I counted, there are only two Fs in BFF. And there's a reason for that. If you get too many Fs, it doesn't look like Best Friends Forever anymore. It looks like you're trying to spell the sound a fart makes. Observe: BFFFFFFFFFFFF.
But I didn't say that, because we're all automatically such terribly good friends now. Terribly, terribly, good friends. Terribly, terribly.