Dear Diary: A day of criss-crossing the Commonwealth of Virginia as I campaigned from the west coast to the southeastern city of Roanoke at the heart of redneck country. Well...loookee here, Caleb. There's one of them black people workin' a rope-line outside our old fire station. Scary people. Talking of scary, Joe's been having another attack of foot-in-mouth disease, wondering in a public speech how his conception was possible in the thin-walled home of his childhood. Awkwaard. At such times, I wish his parents hadn't been so resourceful. There are rumors that Condi Rice is Mitt's likely choice for VP, which would dilute even my unique status as the first African-American at the pinnacle of power in the USA. The yoke of power sure is heavy at present. Time for me to tuck up M., slide into the Presidentopedic beside her and pull my blankey Boo-boo from under my pillow... Barry luv Boo-boo, um-num-num-um...zzzzz...
