Friday, January 27, 2017

January 27, 2017

Dear Diary,

I have to admit to being a little confused this morning. Now that Dr. Morell allows me to watch a limited amounts of CNN and MSNBC, I'm slowly getting back into the swing of things, but still can't believe what's going on out there.  Today, I caught a glimpse of that new Prime Minister from England and for the life of me cannot figure out what the deal with her is.

First of all, what kind of national leader has a name like Theresa May?  It sounds so cheap. More like a pole stripper at a club off Highway 95 than anyone with real importance.  Theresa "may or may not" is more like it.  Those limeys do the strangest things, but that's nothing new.  Half of their parliament is homosexual and the other half is in bed with the Russians, which explains just about all you really need to know.

The only good thing I can say about the Brits is that they know how to keep the brews coming. The food is to die for -- and I mean that.  You can die from eating what passes for food over there.  Everything is fried or carbonated, which means that if it isn't mutton, you're stuck chowing down on fried fish and any one of a thousand different kinds of beer.  I once ordered fried eggs for breakfast and they actually deep-fried a couple of Grade A's.  By the time the waitress set the plate down, those yolks were sliding around in a pool of oil like a couple of hockey pucks at a Flyers game.

And always with a pint of something alcoholic, morning, noon and night.  Those guys really know how to keep a buzz going, probably because there's really nothing else to do in Great Britain other than drink and sing about the Queen.  Well, they also complain a lot about the towel heads, but that's nothing new.  Everyone complains about them.

Anyway, what I just don't understand is how a once-great country like England could elect an older, middle-aged, used-up old hag to represent them.  Have they no sense of decency?  The woman doesn't even own one pants suit!  Some hoity-toity school must taught her to dress like that, but they might as well have sent her to welder's school for all the good it did.

Do you see what I mean Dear Diary?  The world is so unfair! Theresa May is as dumpy as they come and SHE gets to reign over a nation of peasants elected as a national leader, but I'm stuck here in my nightie popping Xanax.

Maybe it's me.  Maybe I should have been English.  They'd love me there.  I mean, if SHE could take over the British Empire, just about any middle-aged, old hag woman could.

And I've got plenty of pants suits.

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