Dear Diary: I consulted my alternative reality this morning, smoking a fat joint of Blueberry Yum Yum on the South lawn and tried to figure out where John Kerry had gone wrong in the Geneva talks on Iran's nuclear weapons. A booming voice in my head said: "Barry, You know you got problems when the French start callin' you a Cheetos-eating surrender monkey".
I think Hanoi John may over-reacted to my instructions to sign an agreement and get the hell out of Geneva ASAP, and tried to give away the farm with nothing in return. Bibi Netanyahu called me this morning, incandescent with rage. It was the time that Putin normally calls, while I'm eating my Froot Loops with chocolate milk. But this time, my unique, specially-engraved iPresidentophone burst into a rousing rendition of Hava Nagila, which is my ringtone for Bibi. He let rip at me for at least ten minutes while I put him on speaker and practiced my putts on the Oval Office carpet. But enough about me.
I think Hanoi John may over-reacted to my instructions to sign an agreement and get the hell out of Geneva ASAP, and tried to give away the farm with nothing in return. Bibi Netanyahu called me this morning, incandescent with rage. It was the time that Putin normally calls, while I'm eating my Froot Loops with chocolate milk. But this time, my unique, specially-engraved iPresidentophone burst into a rousing rendition of Hava Nagila, which is my ringtone for Bibi. He let rip at me for at least ten minutes while I put him on speaker and practiced my putts on the Oval Office carpet. But enough about me.