Dear Diary: Today was a peaceful day during which my majestic intellect could regenerate after two days of campaigning. I had nothing on my public schedule until after sunset and a White House Iftah dinner for Muslims, who fast during the day for the month of Ramadan. I hope fervently that a quiet day will cure the Mittmares that have been troubling me: terrifying, vivid dreams in which The Manicured Mormon prances around me like a demented Olympic dressage stallion while taunting me gleefully with cries of "Obamaloney!"
As I try to flee, I sometimes thrash around so violently under the covers of the Presidentopedic, that I tumble out of bed. And I have the bruises to prove it. I guess things could have been worse: If Chris Christie joined in, the gleeful prancing could have triggered a massive earthquake further damaging the Washington Monument. Meanwhile, I shall have to rely on the overstretched powers of Boo-boo, my blankey, to keep the Mormonal menace and his cohorts at bay. Barry luv Boo-boo...um-num-num-um...zzzzz...
As I try to flee, I sometimes thrash around so violently under the covers of the Presidentopedic, that I tumble out of bed. And I have the bruises to prove it. I guess things could have been worse: If Chris Christie joined in, the gleeful prancing could have triggered a massive earthquake further damaging the Washington Monument. Meanwhile, I shall have to rely on the overstretched powers of Boo-boo, my blankey, to keep the Mormonal menace and his cohorts at bay. Barry luv Boo-boo...um-num-num-um...zzzzz...
