Sunday, April 2, 2017

April 2, 2017

Dear Diary,

I really hate Sunday mornings. Everyone else sleeps late and I'm the only one who's up early, which means I have to wait until six or six thirty for breakfast and meds.  This throws my whole schedule off, because if I take the meds without the breakfast, I'll barf all over the bedsheets and if I take the breakfast without the meds, there's no telling what could happen.  Last time that happened, I ended up on top of the bookcase with a loaded gun, convinced that the Viet Cong were hiding outside.  It wasn't my best moment.

Most Sundays, I flick on the tube, but at that hour the only things on are old movies, infomercials and Sunday news shows.  For a while there, I was big informercial fan, but they took away my Visa card after the Clinton Foundation went flambĂ©e, so no more QVC for me!  That left the old movies, but at six in the morning on Sunday, AMC makes you sit through a few Three Stooges shorts, which I simply refuse to watch.  They remind me of those idiots my staff in the you-know-what, especially those buffoons campaign workers in Pennsylvania and Michigan who kept assuring Podesta, "Relax, listen to the crowd! She has the whole thing locked up."   Turns out the crowd was actually chanting, "Lock her up!"


Anyway, all that leaves is the Sunday morning news shows, and Dr. Morell says I can only watch those thirty minutes after the Xanax kicks in, otherwise they could upset me. So far, I have to say that's been good advice, because I really can't stand that Chuck Todd.  I never liked him, and not just because he's a Jew.  On the few times I was on his show, he kept asking me impossible questions, even though our bribes agreements understanding clearly outlined what was fair game.  I might forget about that terrible haircut or how that little beard is supposed to give him the illusion of a chin.  That's his choice.  It's that Semitic attitude I can't stand.  After all, he cashed the checks.  He should have known better.  This is why I don't do business with Israelis or Persians.

Of course, nothing is like it once was.  Even George Stephanopolous has changed over the years and we're the ones who gave him his first big break.  At least George knows how to dress and has that big mop of hair he can change up at a moment's notice.  But that's how it is with Greek people.  They're a very hairy race, and I'm talking really thick bush.  Even their women have to shave their happy trails with a weed wacker and you can barely drive a John Deere lawn tractor across their backs.  It can get pretty disgusting even you don't have maid service to sweep it all up.

Still, with Dr. Morell restricting my movements from bed to the bathroom, I suppose I have little choice when it comes to keeping up with current news and events.  I'm pretty sure they've got parental controls on the TV.  At least they didn't block "Botched." It reminds me of how much worse other people's lives can be, and that makes me smile.

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