Dear Diary: No sooner had I scooped up a mouthful of Froot Loops this morning, when my specially-engraved iPresidentophonetinkled The Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy. An icy claw gripped my gut."Good morning,Vladimir" I said, for it was he. "Obamavich!" he raged: "Restrain Biden and keep the bouffant-haired Kerry the hell out of Ukraine and Syria. They are fomenting anarchy."
My phone was growing hot against my ear. "There, there, dude," I said in a soothing tone, "I think you are just having an over-emotional reaction to the lack of Russian gold medals at Sochi."
Then I burst into song to distract him from his woes:
"Sixteen billion and
What do you get?
Another day older and deeper in debt..."
OOBAAAMAAviiich!!!
His voice dwindled to a strangled gurgle.
"Cool it, Vlad," I said diplomatically, "You'll have a seizure."
"I just did." he replied.
But enough about me.
