Friday, May 26, 2017

May 26, 2017

Dear Diary,

I'm actually a little excited to think about the G7 conference happening in Europe right now. The G7 is a very important meeting, hosted somewhere in that perpetual war zone by seven permanent members, those being us, Great Britain, Canada, France and four others. Sleepy, Bashful, Doc and Grumpy, I think.

In addition to the permanent members, there are all kinds of guest countries who are invited. It's supposed to make them think they're important, but they really don't do anything. They usually just sit in the cheap seats and watch the white important people make boring speeches while whispering to each other about how the Rothschilds are manipulating their economies. Not like they really care or anything. As long they can import Nike T-shirts and baseball caps, they're happy. That and the all-you-can-eat cafeteria keeps them quiet until we can crate them back home. For most of them, it's their first time riding in an airplane.

I never attended a G7 in an official capacity.  That was Bill's duty when he was king Commander in Chief back in the nineties. In those days, I was the King's Consort First Lady, so my job was limited to wearing gloves and waving at the peasants people wherever we traveled.  Those were the good old days, for sure, when you didn't even have to win a majority to take the throne get elected. Bill never did, which reminds me to check whether we ever sent Ross Perot his annual check a Christmas card this year.  I'm sure we must have.  That little turd is just as testy as Robert Reich and almost as short.

One thing I'll bet Carrot Head isn't looking forward to is having to meet with Merkel, Macron and Trudeau. What a bunch of lightweights.  Talk about fiddling while Rome burns, I'm sure the three of them are going to show up just long enough to get on camera and then sneak out to go shopping, because that's really the only reason to go to Italy. Merkel's the most butch, so I'm betting she'll drive. I have no idea how she puts up with the other two, though.  They stop at every single window and constantly whine, "Can we go in here? I'll only be a second."  Then they spend the rest of the afternoon trying everything on but hardly buying anything.  And then whatever they do buy, they end up returning two days later.

God, I hate them.

Otherwise, I'm looking forward to the holiday weekend.  Maybe Chel will bring her Jew brood over for brunch. But I bet they won't even bring a coffee cake. They're such freeloaders.

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