Dear Diary: I had hoped for a round of golf at Andrews today, but it was not to be. My staff often remind me that Andrews Air Force base is now called "Joint Base Andrews," but after the recent fuss over my weed-smoking days in Hawaii, Axelrod now rightly deems it wise for me never again to utter the word "Joint."
I had scheduled a lunch with Joe Biden last Friday. But the geezer turned up for breakfast instead. It really is time for me to talk to him about staying on the ticket.
The fuss about me saying the economy is 'fine' will not die down, despite Carney's sterling efforts to silence the media hacks. But at least M. has apparently forgiven me for my joke in L.A. about her push-ups not 'going all the way down.'
There has been pressure on me to say what plans I have for the nation when I am re-elected in November's historic landslide. What I would like to do, of course, is to reword the Constitution, so it says citizens have the Wrong to bear arms. In spite of the enthusiasm my core supporters would have for this, I daren't foreshadow it. The flyovers would bust a gut and then some.
Well, I have already tucked up M. and after a quick prayer to Myself I will, Myself, retire to the Presidential Posturepedic, there to enjoy the soothing delights of Boo-boo, my blankey. Barry luv Boo-boo um-num-num...zzzzz
I had scheduled a lunch with Joe Biden last Friday. But the geezer turned up for breakfast instead. It really is time for me to talk to him about staying on the ticket.
The fuss about me saying the economy is 'fine' will not die down, despite Carney's sterling efforts to silence the media hacks. But at least M. has apparently forgiven me for my joke in L.A. about her push-ups not 'going all the way down.'
There has been pressure on me to say what plans I have for the nation when I am re-elected in November's historic landslide. What I would like to do, of course, is to reword the Constitution, so it says citizens have the Wrong to bear arms. In spite of the enthusiasm my core supporters would have for this, I daren't foreshadow it. The flyovers would bust a gut and then some.
Well, I have already tucked up M. and after a quick prayer to Myself I will, Myself, retire to the Presidential Posturepedic, there to enjoy the soothing delights of Boo-boo, my blankey. Barry luv Boo-boo um-num-num...zzzzz
