Dear Diary: With the private sector now doing fine, I was able to enjoy a leisurely round of golf on the links at Fort Belvoir with staffers Brush, Nicholson, and Paulson. Between holes I approved a hit by a drone in northern Waziristan, eliminating one of the subjects on my kill list. I love to multitask. One of the group of historians I have occasionally asked to dinner to reassure me of my immortal place in the history of these United States, has been ratting on me anonymously, accusing me of conceit and hubris. Given my extraordinary talent and abilities, what else am I supposed to do: be humble and self-effacing? Get real. George Clooney told me an old Hollywood aphorism: "If you've got it, flaunt it." M. has warmed slightly towards me today after that unfortunate joke in LA about her not 'going down all the way'. She even allowed me to tuck her up tonight, as is my habit. Now it's time for me, too, to hit the presidential Tempurpedic where my blankey, Boo-boo, awaits. Boo-boo make everything better for Barry...um-num-num-um zzzzz...
