Dear Diary: Hear ye! Hear ye! Be it known that, insofar as monarchs such as Queen Elizabeth II have an official, as well as a personal, birthday, I am henceforth annexing July 4 as mine. Today, in witness of this, I solemnly descended from Camp David, in the mountains of Maryland, bearing tablets of acetaminophen, mysteriously inscribed Tylenol. I then presided at a naturalization ceremony at the White House, and later my queen Michelle and I hosted a picnic for war heroes. Someone mentioned a huge breakthrough in physics which will change our understanding of the universe, involving something with a name like " Hog's Bison." But back to the really important stuff: We all feasted on barbecue, arugula and Baraccolli and watched the fireworks over the National Mall from the South Lawn. I was flattered by cries of "oooh" and "aaah" until I realized our ungrateful guests were reacting to the fireworks, not me. Awkwaaard... Still it was good day for optics: I was seen to be part of the perspiring hoi polloi on this great day of national celebration and merriment, visibly surrounded by my adoring and grateful subjects. It's been a tiring day and I fly to Toledo early tomorrow for a whistle-stop tour of Ohio aboard Ground Force One. Time for bed and the comforting touch of Boo-boo, my blankey. Barry luv Boo-boo... um-num-num-um...zzzzzz...
