George W. Bush - My Fake Diary

Saturday, 24 January 2009

Dear Diary,

W. Here.

I got up at 11AM this morning and walked around the house stark naked and farting like a horse.

That's one of the worse things about being president. They won't let you fart. I mean, you can fart but only outside the hearing and smelling range.

I must be backed up pretty bad.

Blew the lid off the back of the commode last night.

Then you have to have a dog or cat at the White House in case a stinker comes out silently, so you can shake your head and ask someone to remove the animal until the King of Boscovakia or Turdistan can catch his breath.

They say Jimmy Carter always blamed it on Billy.

"Billy! Quit that or quit drinking beer!"

So finally Billy just cut loose no matter who was there.

Gotta get all this down for my book.


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