Dear Diary: I truly am a genius. I was wondering earlier today how to get Boehner to at least begin to compromise, when it came to me: imitate Vlad Putin's technique. I waited until Boehner would likely be eating breakfast. I pulled my iPresidentophone from my pocket and called Boehner. "Boehnervitch!" I cried. "Why have you not organized a proper GOP response to the shutdown and debt ceiling? Boehnervitch, you couldn't organise a drunken orgy in a vodka factory." There was a silence at the other end broken only by the sound of cereal being munched. Then Boehner replied: "Piss off Obama and call me back at a more considerate time..." The line went dead; he must have been frozen with terror and dropped the phone. Valerie Jarrett had just entered the Oval Office with her daily list of instructions for me. I told her triumphantly: "I just showed Boehner who's the boss."
"Good job, Barry," she said. But enough about me.
