Thursday, October 12, 2017

October 12, 2017

Dear Diary,

Lately, the phone has been ringing and when I pick it up to answer, there's a woman's voice who says, "Oops, sorry, wrong number." Then she laughs and hangs up. This has been going on for a while now, but it's not like the usual strippers who call Bill robocalls we've been getting lately. This woman's voice sounds entitled and deranged lower and scratchier, which means it's Pelosi up to her old tricks.

This is nothing new for Nancy. She was always jealous of me. Everyone knows she's a sex-starved facelift addict getting a little long in the tooth and has been on Aricept for years prone to act more than a little bizarre. Who else would have to "pass a bill before we get to read it?" I could never understand that one, but it got Obamacare passed. The only thing I can think of is that Big Ears pulled a Harvey Weinstein on her and threatened "no more back door" if she didn't cooperate.

Believe me, the shit that went on behind the Oval Office doors could get pretty strange. Stains on a blue dress are just the tip of the iceberg. You don't want to know.

Come to think of it, there are a few old gray mares in Congress that would probably be better off being escorted to the glue factory. I just heard that at the age of 84, Dianne Feinstein is running for Senate again in California. Not that I have anything against old people. We own several antiques in our living room. But I've seen Dianne at Washington gatherings and I just don't think there are six more years left in her rotten old carcass her. For one thing, she can't handle her liquor. One sip of cheap scotch and the clothes drop right off. Believe me, it's not pretty. It's like watching a bag of white custard stuffed into bra, panties and orthopedic shoes, sloshing around the living room to the strains of Ricky Martin's "La Vida Loca." It's embarrassing. Especially the way she tickles Mitch McConnell under the chin and tries to act all sexy by purring, "Mmmmm, you're cute!"  Yuck.

After a second drink, all bets are off and the young male interns run for the hills, even when it's an open bar.

Both Nancy and Dianne were once beauty queens during the Harding administration, so you know they've been spreading their legs to get ahead used to public life for nearly a century. But enough is enough. At least I can say I never had any men want to have sex with me to stoop to those kinds of tactics. The most I ever had to endure is being Bill's beard and that one time I got stuck like a pig when Hubbell bent me over the sofa.

I'm younger than both of them, but you don't see me prancing around in the public eye. These days, I prefer to spend my time taking my meds and plotting my revenge living my life privately.

I wonder what Huma's doing right now.

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