Dicky, Wednesday 02.02.11

Alright, Sparky, here's the deal. You wanna air our dirty laundry out in public, that's fine by me, but this isn't a dictatorship, Stalin, this a democracy. There's four of us, remember? And each of us has just as much right to speak freely as the next. Emily tells me that you've been cutting out large chunks of her messages, the bits about her condition. Now, I don't know why you've been doing that, whether you've been protecting her interests, as you would put it, or whether you've been trying to build up suspense so that your readers'll come back for more, and I don't wanna know why. The fact of the matter is, it stops now or I'm out.


So here's what I propose, Wordsworth. You give us all access to this blog that you've made and we'll all post our own messages as and when we feel like it. It'll be just like the good old days, passing the notebooks back and forth in Harrison's tree house - except that we won't have to watch Harrison and Emily stealing kisses and we won't have to put up with my baby sister sticking her nose around the corner every twenty minutes.


Those are my conditions, Poe. You send me the passwords and I'll pass 'em on to Emily and Harrison.
Yeah, I'm in contact with Harrison. No, I haven't told him that you spent the night in a hotel with Emily in November. For your sake, Romeo, I hope you two stuck to reminiscing and playing scramble. I doubt very much that Harrison wants to hear that you've been putting the moves on his ex-girlfriend.
Upload this son-of-a-bitch, in it's entirety, and send me those passwords, Chief. Let's get to the bottom of this shit.


A/N : Dicky, Emily and Harrison now have the password to access this blog.