The New Diary of John, the Least Interesting Stallion in Equestria.

Saturday, October 13, 2013

Dear New Diary,

Hello. It is very nice to have you (I shall refrain from speaking with you too much, you know - you are after all only a book. This opening paragraph is, of course, for introductory purposes only and will not be repeated). My name is John. I am a very simple pony. I do not enjoy excitement or adventure. I do not enjoy romance or drama. I do not enjoy adventures or stress. I simply enjoy life as it is (it is quite exciting enough without the need to tangle it anymore, you know). My days consist of manuals, tea, crackers, oatmeal and (sometimes, if I am feeling adventerous enough) strolls in the park. I used to own a different diary. In fact, it is sitting up on my shelf right now. I have read through it a few times and I must say, I look forward to a better series of entries in this book (this is nothing against my old diary, mind you - I am simply... ...less-than-fond... ...of all the insane adventures which were present in my other diary. They were far too reckless for my tastes, thank you very much).

...

...Oh dear. I have lost my train of thought. Excuse me while I re-read what I have written so far. It is not like me to do this, you know, but I have to find out what I was about to write. Excuse me...

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...Ah. Yes. Now I know where I was at. My apologies for the distraction.

It has been a year since I last wrote in a diary. I must say, I missed the feeling. That is not to say that I have much reason to be excited, of course. The year which has passed recently was quite nice and bland, with nothing much having happened and everything little having happened (by this I mean to say that last year was pleasantly bland). I have just woken up and taken care of my morning routine, and am now writing this as I eat a nice bowl of oatmeal and drink some plain tea to go with it. It is very refreshing, to be sure...

...

Oh, hold on...

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My goodness. I am out of oat meal. That will simply not do. I shall have to purchase it after I open up shop today. Well, since I have nothing more to do before I open up my store in an hour, I suppose I ought to take some time to read, and so I shall.

Oh dear. I cannot find my E.S. 000 manual. Good heavens, where did I put it last? This is most out-of-character for me, I assure you. I am not normally like this. If you'll excuse me, I shall proceed to look for it. Dear me.

Where is it, I wonder?

Well, I suppose I shall have to find it after work today. It is now time to open up the shop. Goodbye for now. I will return after my work is done.

Oh my word. It is terrifying. It is distressing. It is most horrible and awful. My store has been robbed.

!

I apologize for that, but you see: I only write exclamation points when I am terribly distressed and, of course, I am in fact terribly distressed at the moment. Half of my manuals are missing. My inventory, gone. Just like that. I do not know how they were stolen, either. The store showed no signs of having been broken in, and my silent alarm did not go off, so I have no clue as to how a thief would do such a task.

For that matter, I do not know why anypony would want to steal my manuals, either. Strictly speaking, of course, I do not behave like most ponies. I am very calm, collected, and (in the opinions of most others) very boring. Why anypony would want so many appliance manuals is beyond me.

Good heavens, you must have no clue what I am talking about. Let me start over: I sell appliance manuals for a living, you see. I admit that it is not the most exciting job, but I am a very un-exciting pony, thank you very much, and I do not care for reckless things or busy-body type nonesense. I am fine with my tea and oatmeal, thank you very much.

But now half of my entire inventory is missing. I contacted the police right away, of course, and reported the issue immediately. I do hope that the culprit is apprehended immediately.

Still, I am very confused...

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...why in Equestria would anypony want to steal that many manuals? It simply does not make much sense. Unless somepony had a desperate need for the inner workings of three ceiling fans, a dozen or so waffle makers, ten sinks, seven dishwashers, two garbage disposals, five air conditioners, eight ovens, four toasters, eleven micro-waves, six coffee makers, nine humidifiers, and a drier/washing machine combo, I see no reason to commit such an unusual (and distressing) crime. Then again, I do not see the need to commit any crimes. It is quite unreasonable and unruly to be so atrociously against the law.

Oh dear, how I wish these things did not happen to me. I suppose that I should calm down, though. Yes. I shall do that. I shall prepare for bed and go to sleep.

Oh good news. Excellent news. In fact, the best news of the day. I have found the manual for the E.S. 000. It was underneath my pillow the whole time. I am very relieved to have found it, and now I can continue reading through it again. I would never give this book up for the world, you know. It is so nice to have it and to be able to read it. The way it explains things, the diagrams, and the detailed instructions is quite nice. I would even venture to say it is rather pleasant.

Well, regardless of how downright awful today was, I am glad that it ended on a happier note. I look foreward to many more good days with my new diary.

Speaking of which, it is time for me to wrap up my entry for today.

Goodnight, Diary.

Sincerely,

John

P.S. I have just remembered - I forgot to purchase oatmeal today. Goodness me. I shall make myself a note to do that. It is not normal of me to forget such things. I have forgotten to write down a note simply due to the shockingly large event which transpired earlier today (my store being robbed, of course).

P.P.S. I do not generally write P.S. in my diary entries. These are rare and will not be a bother, I assure you...

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P.P.P.S. My apologies once again, but I must say that I am sorry for talking to you. You are, in fact, a book. You are a collection of papers bound together witha  cover and, therefore, inanimate. I should remember to not have conversations with you in the future.