Dear Diary: A busy day fundraising in the Big Apricot, or whatever they call New York. I have been enjoying my new celebrity status among wedding planners, stylists and decorators. I noticed today that these dudes were staring above me, I presume looking for the rainbow halo that Newsweek placed above my head on their cover. I must admit to being deeply irritated by Newsweek's description of me as the "First Gay President" -- that required some re-explaining of the birds-and-the-bees to Sasha and Malia --awkwaard. I gotta have a word with that Tina Brown woman about limits. The dead-tree media are doing some bizarre things in their death throes. Maybe our media team can encourage them to run a piece about Mitt being a bully even in the womb where the ungrateful Moron Mormon could be felt kicking his mother. Let the games begin. We arrived at the White House about 10pm, I'm wrapping this entry up now, so I can say my accustomed prayer to myself, have an early night and cuddle up to Boo-boo, my blankey. He's pink... does that mean he's gay? Um-num-num-um Boo-boo luv Barry. Even if Boo-boo is a poof, he can't help it and he has rights. And so to bed.
