Friday, April 28, 2017

April 28, 2017

Dear Diary,

Woke from my nap to hear Bill screaming at the television again.  I swear, after he was deposed left office, he's had no idea what to do with himself.  He still drinks like a fish, but ever since his zipper job, he's been antsy and irritable. Most of the time, he wanders around the house looking like a prisoner of war and has the same kind of dazed look on his face. I think that fish and vegetable diet has finally gotten to him.

He was a lot more fun when he was into Big Macs and underage interns Diet Coke, but now he spends half his time with his shirt off in front of the mirror, flexing his muscles and yelling about how "I still got it!"  Then he cracks open another Jack Daniels and flops into his arm chair wearing nothing but a pair of thread-bare boxers and a bathrobe that hasn't been washed since Al Gore's divorce party.

It's kind of pathetic.

Bill's sort of like those old generals that can't stop telling old war stories. Like the time in the nineties when the government had to shut down because nobody could approve a budget.  At the time, that fat-face Newt was running things and was all up in the House of Representatives with his "Contract with America," which wasn't a contract at all, if you don't count the ones he signed for his book publishing deals.  Jesus, that Gingrich would do anything for attention, including starting a dick flexing war with Bill over shutting down the government.  When it finally happened, there was practically no money left and we had to go without our laundry being done government services for almost a week!

If I were queen in office,  you can bet there'd be no budget crisis.  I've always been good with extorting and hiding money. These non-women simply don't understand that you can't buy anything unless you can pay for it.  If I were the "woman in charge," I'd make sure that everyone in the government had a VISA or Mastercard. That way, they could pay for whatever they needed.  They hardly cost anything, because they're made of plastic, and banks are practically giving them away!  

See how simple that is?  It's so easy, but nobody listens to me, you know, because I'm a woman.

In other news, Dr. Morell says he might let me open the drapes this afternoon, but only if I promise to wear my helmet.  I'll need Bessie to clip my fingernails, too, otherwise I can't do the chinstrap.


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