Dear Diary: I am more than a little confused. I had smoked a generous amount of Pakalolo on Sunday night, which is what common Hawaiians call weed. [Choom is a word used by the 1%] I was going to bed early when Valerie Jarrett reminded me that I was taking a trip to Neverland the next morning and that Marv Nicholson would wake me in good time. And so it came to pass, with one exception: It turned out that I was not going to Neverland but to the Netherlands. On Air Force One there was a State Department honcho waiting to brief me on the World Forum on nuclear security. Oh Lord, I thought, Putin is going to be there. But no, apparently Putin was sending his foreign minister. On arrival I was whisked away to a museum [which I can't spell] to see some enormous paintings of folks in, like, old-fashioned clothes with swords, mostly by some old, like, white guy named Rembrandt. Boring. But enough about me.
