After my usual breakfast of two eggs over easy with wholewheat toast, I put on a dark Secret Service jacket, Nike pants, red-and-grey sneakers and a White Sox cap and jogged in carefree fashion to The Beast which was idling along with the rest of the motorcade ready to take me to the FBI basketball court to shoot hoops with my former body-man Reggie Love. Carney made sure it was closed press this time, after my humiliating 22/2 performance at the White House Easter egg roll.
I had an early call from John Kerry who seems to have calmed the Chicoms and persuaded them to lean on the Gnome of Pyongyang to curb his bellicose rhetoric. I like the word bellicose, "warlike" for those who have not had the advantage of my outstanding education and cannot call upon the vast vocabulary that I have at my disposal. Antidisestablishmentarianism: that normally shuts up pretentious people who try to out-vocabularize me. Where was I? Oh yes, basketball. Moving along, quickly, Reggie once played for Duke so the score doesn't really count. But enough about me.
