Is this a good comedy diary?

I made a comedy diary. Do you reflect I must end it:

11:30am: In bed. Can’t be bothered to go downstairs, even even if I’m practically DYING of hunger right now. Besides, the goobies (aka my family tree) are downstairs, raving to Abba. That is how queer and utterly mental they are. So, to preclude goob disease, I must stay with my cosy duvet and not take off my rubber ducky jammies.
11:31am: “CHLOE, GET UP! NOW!” My dad shouted. How dare he shout at an awesome person like me, when I’m trying to get my beauty sleep. Shame on him. I snuggled up to my duvet. My dad is such a frog. And cog. And dog.
11:32am: Why have I got peanut butter and banana sandwiches in my bra?
11:33am: Molly my cat must have nicked them and snuck into my basket.
11:34am: I say basket, but its really a giant mountain of clothes, constantly growing in my bedroom.
11.40am: Gah. Stupid converses. Why can’t they make them simple to place on? Time for another family tree torture activity: a family tree bike ride. Why can’t my family tree be normal? Why does my insane dad wear knee-length yellow socks? And why does my mum have a lap-dancers closet?
11.50am: Pant pant. Ugh, why can’t they make hills simple to ride on.
“CHLOE! RUMBLE BUMBLE!” My dad shouted What, in the queer name of Elvis’s underpants does that mean? Knowing my Dad, he probably thinks it’s some sort of cool saying. I must keep a mental note to tell my Dad to NOT reflect.
12.30am: I reflect my toes are wonky. The huge one is slightly slanted. Oh dear, I hope I don’t get athletes foot like Delilah. She’s my bestest supporter. Even if she has giant ears I “lubbie” her as my younger brother, Jordan says.
12:31am: Hahahahaha lubbie.
12:32am: I reflect I officially need a psychiatrist. Well, madness runs in the family tree. So does stupidness.
1.00am: Met up with the girls in Starbucks. That’s me, Delilah, Bridget, Jodie, Allix, Tamara and Kara. We like to call ourselves the “Cool Clique”. That is what we like to call ourselves.
“So, two days until St Sadness. Any thoughts on how to fill in the crappy hours of boredom and torture?” Dellie said. Wow. I’m surprised she could say that all. Mind you, she has got a massive gob. I sipped my frappuccino (its some sort of icy beverage, don’t question me too much, search it on wikipedia) and started thinking.
I know its a weird writing style, but its how I like to write.

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