Congrats! You’ve Just Inadvertently Entered Today’s Contest

You just clicked on a link without any explanation which shows that you either trust me or that you’re a bastardly spammer trying to push your penis-lengthening drugs into every open crevice you can find. Either way, you’re now eligible to enter the contest for the diary from 1940. All you have to do is comment on this thread. I’ll randomly draw one winner from those who have commented here. Use your real email address so that I can contact you and get your address to send you your prize. Only one comment per customer please.


Background info on the diary here.

Update 2:
Thanks to everyone who participated. Comments are now closed and the drawing will begin. Processing…processing…processing…


  1. I hope I win this thing – having trouble sleeping at night wondering about the perils of chickens in their constant struggle against random dogs without collars……

  2. Wait is this like one of those….
    “You may already have won a used diary from 1940” contests

    whatever. I’m a sucker for antiquities…

  3. Woo hoo I found the contest. I’m so proud of myself. At this point, I’d like to thank God, the FSM, and all the unicorns our there for getting me through the rough times to achieve so much.

  4. Well, I’m not a spammer, but I do have some of those Penis Drugs you mentioned. The package their in looks a little rough around the edges, I’m going to say it is from the shipping company and hope you’ll think the same after I plant that thought in your head.

    Oh, and the Diary is pretty cool too. I hope I win!

  5. wow, look at all these people…. this was a ploy to bring your lurkers out without telling them that this was your goal, wasn’t it?
    i recall you mentioning something about that a few weeks ago.

  6. This is just like when I vacationed at my grandfather’s house in rural Kentucky. I was wandering through the vast and winding corridors, just as a child will, and I came upon one bedroom that was completely empty. I mean, there wasn’t much in many of them, but this one didn’t even have furniture. There was a large fireplace with a mirror above it and that was it.

    I went in and looked around and noticed that when I looked into the mirror above the fireplace, the room reflected back to me wasn’t empty, but instead was full of furniture. Opulent furnishings, lush fabrics and plump pillows. I don’t remember how long I looked at the mirror, but it wasn’t long. It scared me. Something like that would scare any normal folk. So I darted.

    Later, once I’d eaten a grilled cheese, made by my grandfather’s housekeeper, who was the only other person who lived in the house, I felt a little more brave and tried to find the room again, but it was no use.

    I didn’t forget about the room, but I managed to convince myself that it was just my imagination.

    One day I was outside, playing by the crumbling fountain in the far corner of the property. The fountain was older than the house. In fact, my grandfather always told me that the fountain was here even before his great-grandfather built the house. That the fountain was old even then. Anyway, I was standing in it when I heard something in the bushes. It was mid-day, summer, and I wasn’t scared.

    Of course, I followed the sound, wearing only wet underpants. I eventually found a trail that lead up some crude steps carved into the hill. At the top there was a clearing and in the middle, a little shack.

    Being a child, I went in, and what did I find? The room from the mirror, just as I’d seen it, but of course reversed. I wandered about and looked at the furnishings, the curios sitting on the table, the books on the bookshelf with strange illustrations that I can’t even begin to describe. I looked so long that I didn’t even notice that there was a mirror here too, mounted above another fireplace.

    In the mirror I could see a room, one I recognized. It was the kitchen where I ate my meal so grilled cheese and water from a tap. My grandfather was talking to the housekeeper. He was clearly upset. She was trying to calm him. He stormed out, tears in his eyes, I think. I’d never seen him cry. After he was gone, the housekeeper sat at the table and pulled a small book from her apron. A small leather bound diary. She opened it and began to write.

    But I couldn’t see what she wrote.

  7. I love this, I collect old postcards that have connections to places where I’ve spent a lot of my time. It’s interesting and amusing to see what people have written about the places I know

  8. Ye find yeself in yon dungeon. Ye see an OLDE DIARY. Behind ye OLDE DIARY is a CAT. Obvious exits are NORTH, SOUTH and DENNIS.

  9. *jumping up & down waving hands frantically* OOOH OOOH OOOH!!! WANT WANT WANT!!!

    Best trick played on me in a lonnnng time!! Thanx, Chris!!

  10. A diary from 1940? That’s pretty cool! Written just as WWII was amping up (at least in Europe). If it’s an American diary I anticipate lots more dead chicken stories though. Win-win either way, I guess.

  11. Hey why not,its always interesting to learn about people from another time and place. I just hope the handwriting is legible.

  12. Hmmm…1940.
    I believe most research on penile lengthening was done around this time.
    I’ll pass on any nuggets I find.

  13. I’m relieved that the prize is not a hymnal. Which is what it looked like before I put my glasses on. Not much need for hymnals round here!

  14. Oh, wow. It’s impressive how many people will turn up for free stuff! Haha! Love the site and think the prize looks awesome! Thanks, Chris!

  15. Nothing like stumbling onto a contest to make a longtime lurker actually say something. Keep up the great work with the site.

  16. If I’m unsure of a link, I check the status bar at the bottom when I hover the mouse over it. It’ll tell you the web address. Am I seriously the only one that checks that? I trusted it because it stays on this site… and didn’t end in .cn or .de.

  17. Finally! I found it! I was stuck back in time with this diary (I called it Tweet) and left it in a secret place. It will be mine soon again!

  18. It’s the spam thing. NO WAIT! I mean the trust thing. I trust you so much in fact that I’m gonna let you in on a secret that I don’t tell just anyone. Let me ask you this. Are you happy with the length of your penis? I mean seriously happy? Why are you looking at me like that?

  19. This will probably be way better than the diary I kept in the fifth grade…although my fifth grade diary does have a pink unicorn on the cover….

  20. Yeah, sure…I trust you…yeah, that’s it…trust…sure, yeah, I’ll click on whatever link you set up, why? Cuz I truuuuust you. Pffft.

  21. I’d like to see it but I wouldn’t like to have it – I already have too much clutter here.

    Could you scan it and put in online somewhere?

    If you randomly pick me, could you give it to someone who will scan it so we all can see it?

  22. I’ve clicked on so many random links over the years that at this point you would be hard pressed to find something that will make me blink. (*DISCLAIMER: this is not a dare.)

  23. not a spammer (i hate those guys!), but i guess this does prove that i trust your judgement on interesting internet finds. i’ve been coming to your blog for years now (i only bookmark a few) and it’s how i start my day (it’s 6.15am right now). so, thanks for the years of helping me wake up!

  24. I must not fear.
    Fear is the mind-killer.
    Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
    I will face my fear.
    I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
    And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
    Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
    Only I will remain.

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