Dear Diary: My last day in Cartagena, Colombia, draws to a close. I spent most of my time on productive side-meetings with leaders. But I noticed how often they exchanged knowing looks and smirks at my expense over the Secret Service debacle. Next an aggravator aggregator like Drudge will start calling it Hookergate and the label will spread like typhoid. I've heard from Jarrett and Axelrod that my hard work down here has been completely overshadowed in the media by the scandal, just as I had feared. I am not just angry. I am incandescent compact-fluorescent with rage. To quote the Bhagavad Gita "I am become Death the Destroyer of Worlds." The Secret Service is going to need another Secret Service to protect itself from me when I return to DC. Marvelous Marv has laid out my jammies, a small bowl of my favorite Planter's trail mix and my blankey Boo-boo. Dude's a genius.Time to say a prayer to Myself. And so to bed and Boo-boo's comforting embrace. Barry loves his Boo-boo... num-um-num-num...
