Saturday, March 11, 2017

March 11, 2017

Dear Diary,

Although Dr. Morell says I'm making good, steady progress, I still have moments when I'm more than a little confused about things.  Do you ever have dreams that you're not sure are real or not?  Me too.  That's been happening a lot lately.  I can't tell whether the stories in the National Enquirer are true any more, which has been the cause of considerable consternation to me.

(See how I'm using bigger words?  It's coming back!)

One story in US magazine has me running for mayor of New York City, and for the life of me, I can't recall a time when I said anything about that.  Then again, if I'm going to be completely honest, I can't recall a lot of things I've said over the last 40 years, especially under oath.  That Lorazepam does a number on your memory.  I guess someone took a poll and found that my name was bandied about to run for mayor, but it's one thing to rule the free world  dictate policy represent the entire United States.  It's another to be the big cheese lording over a few million immigrants the chief executive of one crummy city some local burg a city as dynamic as New York.

Let's face it: once you've run as Superman, running as Jimmy Olsen just isn't the same.

Don't get me wrong, I love New York. And I probably could be a pretty good head honcho when you take into account the clown they have destroying the place its current mayor's record.  I mean, if they could elect that DiBlasio guy, those rubes idiots voters will elect anyone.  Have you seen that DiBlasio?  What a phoney!  DiBlasio isn't even his real name!  Everything thinks he's a wop guinea Italian-American, but his real last name is Wilhelm, which is heavy on the sauerkraut, if you know what I mean. I bet his grandfather fought on the wrong side of the war, because during the 1940s, Sheepshead Bay was thick with Nazi submarines and they had to have someone here to tie up the boats.

Not only is he actually a German, he deliberately married a black a Negress an Afro-American whose last name is McCray.  Getting the picture here?  On paper, everyone thinks she's a mick Irish and he's Italian, but talk about your bait and switch!  Good thing for him ballots don't have family photos next to the checkbox, I can tell you that.  I've been out of action for little while, but apparently, the only thing he's done is provide the city with free bicycles, which is probably better than the last guy, who was a Jew hellbent on outlawing super-sized cups of Mountain Dew.

Come to think of it, maybe running for mayor isn't a bad idea. I could still use power to destroy people's lives shatter a glass ceiling a little closer to home.  Maybe I could leave my mark on that Big Apple and inspire women throughout the world.

Maybe I could run into Huma.  She still lives around there. Maybe it could be like the old days.

She's still not returning my calls.

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