Barack Obama's Diary: Long-distance frost

Dear Diary: No sooner had I scooped up my first spoonful of Froot Loops, when my iPresidentophone sprang to life with the cop siren sound that I assigned to Michelle. "Good morning, my love," I said, "and how are things at the Grand Old Oprah?"
"Kidding around won't help," she said, clearly not amused. I swear that the polar vortex has originated from her in Hawaii. I made polite inquiries about her well-being then disconnected after a brief exchange. But I was prevented from finishing my cereal by the immediate interruption of the Moscow Steel Foundry Male Voice choir's rousing rendition of Keep the Red Flag Flying.
"Hey Vlad," I said,  for it was he. "How are things in Sochi?"
"We don't deal in half measures like you do, Obamavitch, the whole Olympic region is surrounded by a ring of steel. Watch and learn."