ROBIN (Mar. 2, 6:20 PM): In retrospect, choosing “Robin” as my superhero identity wasn’t the greatest idea. If I had it to do over again, I would build an eight-foot suit of armor with built-in chainsaws and call myself The Lumberjack. Maybe then the newspaper wouldn’t say things like “Batman saved the day once again, despite being trailed by some sort of flamboyant elf-woman.” I know what it looks like when Batman and I scale a building together, but Diary, this is too much.
ALFRED (Mar. 3, 2:30 PM): “Fetch me some tea, Alfred.” “Fetch me a book, Alfred.” You have a utility belt – fetch it your Goddamn self. After years of thankless servitude, I’ve lost whatever semblance of a human soul I once had. Well, I’m tired of being some millionaire playboy’s wrinkled old bitch. Tonight, I’m taking the gay one and we’re going out on the town… in the Batmobile. If Master Wayne no, Bruce doesn't like it, he can shove it up his bat ass.
ROBIN (Mar. 4, 4:15 AM): Bruce was at a cocktail party tonight, so Alfred and I went out in the Batmobile – and I wore the Batsuit. Diary, it was AMAZING. I blacked out a few times, but at one point I remember being in bed with six girls. As I lay there, imagining what their tongues would feel like on my skin as they caressed my hard plastic Bat-nipples, I realized that I can’t go back to the way things were. Not now, not ever. I’m Batman now, and NOBODY CAN TAKE THAT AWAY FROM ME! I think Alfred overdosed?
ROBIN (Mar. 7, 8:12 PM): I didn’t have the balls to go through with what I was talking about, that night out with Alfred (may he rest in peace). I’m just a flamboyant elf-woman. What’s more, I think Bruce knows what we did – I see it in every one of his sideways glances, I feel it in every one of his clammy handshakes. He’s cold, he’s distant… he’s toying with me, getting off on watching me squirm. He's probably planning his revenge as I write this.
BATMAN (Mar. 7, 8:12 PM): I didn’t think they could do it, but Ben & Jerry’s frozen yogurt is seriously just as delicious as their ice cream. You know what’s an underrated game? Yahtzee. Ugh… is it ever going to get warm again? Honestly, I miss The Cardigans. And cardigans in general… who decides what styles are in and out, anyway?