Wednesday, January 11, 2017

January 11, 2017

Dear Diary,

I am a bit conflicted today, especially after watching Obozo's farewell speech. How that man can talk! He just goes on and on and on and on -- and it's always about himself. What a poser! After he stabbed me in the back my term as Secretary of State,  and even while I was flying all around the world handing out reset buttons, he was flitting about Washington, D.C., telling anyone who'd listen that all the foreign diplomacy was really HIS work and that as long as I was out of the country on an airplane, he was free to get some real work done.

Real work? That skinny, big-eared fool never had to sneak his SlimFast drinks past security at the airport.  And I guarantee you the arabs don't like him nearly as much as they like me.  You didn't see them donate hundreds of millions of dollars to any of his Foundations, did you?  Of course not. What a dope. I hope he's happy in that new home of his in Tehran. A hundred fifty billion can buy a lot of real estate there.

Anyway, he droned on about him and Michelle and his girls and just about anything else he could, I guess because he figured people were just too polite to ask him to stop. What else are you going to do with a guy who came into office looking like Muhammad Ali and left it looking like a badly beaten Uncle Remus from and old Disney movie?  I'm surprised he didn't end it with a bunch of cartoon animals chiming in on a chorus of Zippity Doo Dah.

Not one person in that hand-picked crowd challenged him on anything he was yacking about.  Not Russia, the IRS, the FBI, Loretta Lynch, ISIS, Obamacare -- all of the bullets I had to dodge take back in the you-know-what.  Jesus, they crucified me, but all the crowds do is glow over that wife of his and those two kids who they treat like the second coming of Jesus.  Nobody glowed over my wife husband and kid.  Bill may not have Michelle's triceps, but I bet he could drink her under the table any day.  And Chel may look like the wrong end of a German Shepherd, but let's see either of those two Obama kids snag a $600K job at NBC reporting pointless stories at a fourth grade level. Not so easy, my friend, not so easy.

Diary, I have to admit that I'm not sorry to see Obozo go. I'm tired of his smug attitude and the way he completely changes his speech pattern depending on who he's talking to.  One minute he thinks he's John Kennedy lecturing white people and the next, he's trying to pass himself off as Dennis Rodman with that Ebonic stuff.  Give me a break.

Anyway, it's depressing. My supply is dwindling, because Dr. Morell is out of town for the day.  Now that Obozo is leaving, I guess the classiest thing I can do is wish Obozo a happy Allah hu Akbar.  Is that how you spell it?

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