5/18/12

Barack Obama's Diary

Cher Journal: which is 'Dear Diary' in French for the benefit of all you non-French-speaking historians who will research these writings in centuries to come when my presidency will still  outshine the sun.  I met Francois Hollande, the new French president, as scheduled this morning. I greeted him in French.  He looked at me with naked disbelief which could only mean he was astonished at my fluency, which  showed my intellectual brilliance after only a few minutes with a French phrase book. He replied: "No,  Monsieur Obama,  I do not know where to obtain a corkscrew for a bottle of burgundy." Which I found strange. But these frogs are all weird, as I know from Sarkozy, who always replied  "merde" to all my suggestions which, according to my phrasebook, is "poop," which must be a mistake. 
Later, I welcomed all the G8 leaders to Camp David, except Vlad the Impaler who is sulking in Moscow after snubbing my invitation, which is a pity as he would have enhanced the optics, as Axelrod would say.   In the middle of my electrifying speech I glanced up from the teleprompter, only to notice some of them nodding with eyes shut.  Jet-lag can be  a bitch. Later, we  tried to solve the problems of the world, over dinner. I told them that their problems were  the result of them borrowing too little and not spending enough. They fell silent, out of respect for my intellect, so I excused myself, went to bed, said my prayer to myself and took out Boo-boo my blankey and caressed my lips with him.  Barry luv Boo-boo.. um-num-num-um...zzzzzz...