Well, Diary, it's been a strange sort of last few days for me. First of all I'm still in the news for no reason, which isn't strange at all, seeing as Americans have never produced anyone newsworthy in over 200 years, so they need people like me and, er, that Kenyan guy to go on and on about. Makes them feel important, I guess.
No, Diary, what's strange is that last Tuesday I died! Yes, I had just finished writing my Groping Women In Public In A Way That Is Acceptable To Feminists Bill, and was getting ready to go to my weekly scuba driving lessons, when I suddenly found myself sitting in a room with a lot of very scarey characters indeed!
Looking a bit closer I saw that the guy nearest me was Eamonn MacPhee, one of the Omagh bombers - you know, the Real IRA guys that murdered 27 innocent men, children and women, including a pregnant one, in the name of Irish freedom, in fact the very same IRA people I sent lots of money to. And next to him was my old friend Pope John Paul the First.
'Hey. bro'!', I said to him, in that man-of-the-people way that only a pampered son of a millionaire can really do sincerely, 'what is this joint?' And you could have knocked me over with my draft-dodging Korean War papers when he said 'It's Hell.'
'Quit horsin' around!', I laughed, but he shook his head sadly.
'No, it's quite true. Look, all the former Popes are here', and sure enough there they all were.
'But Your Holiness', I said, 'Popes are good Christians and have been pious religious leaders of millions of people around the world, there must be some kind of mistake.'
'There's Pope Pieface in the corner', he answered, 'you know, the Pope that helped thousands of mass-murdering Nazis to escape after the war. And there's Pope Childabus, the guy that turned molestation of kids into an impressive worldwide industry that took centuries to uncover, mainly because the Church covered it up. There's Pope -'
But I had stopped listening, as I had spotted my father and my brother John at the hamburger stand talking with Adolf Hitler! 'Hey, guys', I said, 'how's it goin'?'
'Oh, it's you, Ted', John said, 'what took you so long getting here? We've been talking over old times with Adolf here.'
'Yeah', my Dad said, 'we had a few laughs over the years, me and Adolf. Remember when nobody much in America was interested in anti-Semitism, so I did all those interviews in the papers to make sure they became interested in it? How we laughed!'
'Ja, and that time when you said the British weren't fighting for freedom, and that Americans would never be conned into World War Two by them!'
'Er, sure. Listen, Ted, son, here's how this place works. We spend the rest of eternity being tortured in the flames of Hell for all the wrong we did on Earth, there's no escape, it's a neverending cycle of agonising and violent pain and unhappiness and terror.'
'A bit like listening to Hilary Clinton making a speech?'
'But Dad, why am I here?', I asked him. 'What about all those bills about feminist lesbian save the whale Afro-Brazilio-Puerto Rican righton token bullshit for my own publicity I did?'
'It was all bullshit', he said. 'Have you already forgotten that little car crash you had?'
'And all the lies you told?'
'Oh look', I interrupted him, 'isn't that Genghis Khan over at the bar, chatting with Joe MacCarthy?'
Diary, it sure is hard work being stuck here in Hell with all these evil fascists and killers and people that led the world to so many terrible wars. And that's just my own family!
Signin' off for now, gotta get ready for the arrival of the Bush family. Let's just hope we can fiddle it so that Dumbya gets sent upstairs!
Oh hi, Lucifer ...