Dear Diary: It's midnight and we've we just returned home from California. During a fundraiser at a theater in Redwood, while the audience was being warmed up with a stirring Obamarama movie, I seized the moment to go out back and smoke a cigarette with one of my Secret Service detail. I was just enjoying the nicotine rush when a staffer ran up yelling: "Mr. President you've missed your cue... you're needed right now on stage." Yikes! I hurried inside, smooshing out the cigarette and exhaling smoke on the way. When I did my usual energetic, youthful, light-footed bounce on stage, the audience was unaware of the backstage drama. My staff kept the MSM at bay by explaining my slow response as simple fatigue. Awkwaard! So far, that seems to have kept the hacks off the scent of tobacco. Bloggers won't be so easy to fool, but it will be old news by morning when I can rely on the lapdogs on Today to bury it. Talking of lapdogs, it was good to be among be among Californians. Governor Jerry Brown is almost as good at deficit spending as I am. It's late and Michelle is calling out to me, so it's time for my usual quick prayer of thanks to myself and so to bed and the gentle touch of my blankey, Boo-boo. Barry luv Boo-boo um-num-num-um...zzzzz
