Exclusive: A Page from Barack Obama’s Diary – Can I Just Eat My Ice Cream?
by PAM MEISTER
June 22, 2009
What a weekend! First we had Tony Hawk skateboarding in the White House as part of our totally rad Father’s Day celebration. Wow, Tony Hawk! He’s only a few years younger than me, but he still handles a board like a 13-year-old. All the kids love him. (You know what they say – get them while they’re young!) I’m hoping he’ll show me a few tricks, like how to ollie down the stairs or do a backside pop shuvit. And for those who criticize MY decision to have Tony wheeling down the halls of the White House, I only have two words: I won.
The next part of my fantabulous weekend was on Saturday, I took the girls out for a much-deserved ice cream treat. Well, I don’t know how much they deserved it – they’re just kids, so life for them is pretty easy. But I know I really needed my cup of frozen vanilla custard with hot fudge and almonds. It’s so tiring flying around on Air Force One and giving speeches. It’s like the campaign never ended! I deserve a break every now and then. So why can’t I just eat my ice cream in peace? A guy can’t catch a break.
But what really irks me, Diary, is that people are daring to criticize my decision to say as little as possible about what’s going on in Iran as I can get away with. After a few days of violence, I got around to admitting that I support the people – whatever that means I leave up to you – and what more does anyone expect me to do? Some are even going so far as to compare CBS’s Twitter coverage of my trip to Dairy Godmother with the Twitter coverage by besieged protestors in Iran. What do they expect me to do? Threaten to send in troops if the mullahs and their thugs don’t stop shooting unarmed people? (Warning – violent, upsetting content – ed.) I meant it when I said that America must listen, not dictate, to the world. It’s none of our business what goes on overseas. Besides, what would Code Pink and MoveOn.org say? I have my supporters to think about – it’s just over three years until the next election.
Besides, if I go and tick off the mullahs now, they’ll never let Mahmoud come over to play – I mean, negotiate peace. And then where the hell will my foreign policy cred be? In the toilet, that’s where. I said I’d talk my way to peace, come hell or high water, and that’s what I’m going to do, even if it kills a few innocents here or there.
People have been comparing me to FDR, but if I had to pick a president to compare myself to, I’d choose Woodrow Wilson – a skinny nerdy type who would rather use my energy socializing America than going to the aid of every pathetic population under a tin pot dictatorship. Except, of course, I’m a better basketball player than old Woody. And I have to admit – there’s something to be said for an unarmed populace in the face of government power. I must get Eric to work faster on my latest gun ban proposals to stick it to those bitter clingers. My work is never done.
When people voted for me, they voted for change. And change is what they are going to get! No more “cowboy diplomacy,” no more clearing brush on vacation (that’s what the illegals are for), no more big, bad America playing world policeman. Just Barack Obama firing IGs who pester my political supporters, sidestepping Congress with my stable of czars, and making my Marxist dreams come true.
You know, John McCain made fun of me during the campaign when he called me the world’s biggest celebrity. I admit, it got my dander up for a bit, but you know what? He’s right. I am the world’s biggest celebrity, and I’m loving it. So if CBS wants to Twitter my ice cream run, if NBC wants to videotape my trip to a burger joint, and if ABC wants to give me what amounts to free political coverage for my government health care plan, who am I to argue?
See ya, Diary – I’m off to get ready for my latest photo shoot with People magazine.