It wish to convey the results of my experiments

It wish to convey the results of my experiments in this diary. The potion was a complete success with some possible side-effexs. The deteriashun ov smarts is uh dum-di-dum. Weeeee!

Dear Die-arree, It's Day Too after my potion experimint. Spent the nite counting on my feengers. Got to six. Ware did my other feengers go? I'm thersty. Time for moar potion.

Dear Diary: I am shocked and horrified by what I wrote last night. My vernacular was sub-par and loathsome. This potion I imbibe makes me into different people each time. Tonight I

shall be a Roman senator. I'm frightened I may act anachronistically and therefore be executed. Did the Romans burn witches? Tell me, Diary, or I shall collapse into despair.

"Your Roman witch soul is non-flammable newt blood" appeared in my diary, written with the aforesaid newt blood. Hey, my soul isn't a bottomless inkwell, Diary. Quit it! More words

When I had opened my door I had not expected to hear such gibberish from the porta-potty delivery guy. I had chosen the Johnny-On-Spot company because they were the only one that

really did their duty, in the end. John the Johnny-On-Spot rep was at this moment running his mouth about

How he almost was run over by a cyclist playing Pokemon Go on the way to work. There were bike lanes for exactly that reason. The cyclist has just grabbed a QPT under the bridge.

But the troll who lived under the bridge grabbed the cyclist and added him to his billy-goat stew, which turned out great, once you strained out the spandex and hooves.