Barack Obama's Diary: Going long

I had been increasingly peeved by all the attention being lavished on the Superbowl and I called Valerie Jarrett to the Oval Office to strategize about how we could raise my profile and distract the proletariat from their pizza and chicken wings and think about their great leader. "I know," I said to Valerie, "there's a photograph in the archives of me throwing a football. My superb style will draw the attention of all the commentators. "Let's send it out now on Instagram"  It was quickly done.
Minutes later   my iPresidentophone sprang to life with a chorus from the Moscow Steel Foundry Male Voice Choir. I answered:  "Vlad Putin? [for it was he] what can I do  for you?" The sound of laughter tumbled out of the phone.  Obamavich! Obamavich! I have just seen the Instagram of you throwing a football.

"So?" I said"Obamavich, you throw like a little girl. Bwaaah! ha! How can you make such a fool of yourself in the run-up to --what do you call it -- the Superbowel? Bwaaaha!ha! You are what your people call a "sissy". "If you want to see a real man of action,  see the pictures of me riding a horse bare-chested." This was unbearable provocation and in front of Valerie, too.  I disconnected without  replying. "There! I said "that will teach him a lesson."  But enough about me.