Dictated by phone en route from the Capital Hilton to the White House: Bibi deigned to be patched through to my limo after finishing his shower and had already spoken to his old pal Mitt. Auugh! That made me pissed from the get-go. How dare he speak to errr...Mittman before speaking to me. I can just imagine their laughter as they mocked my superior errr... intellect and peerless leadership of the Free World. Sickenin'. If we bomb Iran, I could tell the Pentagon to drop a bunker-buster on the Netanyahu manse en route.] I love fantasies like that, they make me feel -- for an ecstatic moment-- that I am the one controllin' events and makes me feel like dancin' Gangnan-style. Hoopah...oopah...Gagnan style.
