Martha, Martha, Martha! Bad girl. Make that jail cell look gorgeous, girl. We know you can do it.

NOOOOOO! How can this happen? Oh, Manilow , when you broke your own nose, you were shaking, and then you passed out, Oh Manilow, now your shnoz will be of your own making, then what will they say, Oh Manilow!

Speaking of idiotic things to do, have you seen the snippets from Hillary�s new book? Scandalous. Has she no shame? She claims to have had no knowledge of her husband�s tryst with Monica until the last minute, she believed him till the end. Doesn�t she realize that by claiming that, she presents an image of an oblivious simpleton? Bitch, didn�t Jennifer Flowers give you a hint that something might be amiss? What about Paula Jones? Do you really want us to believe you�re THAT much of an idiot? If you can�t see what�s happening in your own home, how do you expect us to trust that you see what�s going on in the country? The world? And now she�s making money by spilling her guts and revealing her deep, personal life via THREE writers for her new novel. I had more respect for her when she told the world that her personal life was none of our fucking business. We don�t care, Hillary. Get back to the issues up there in New York, make yourself useful.

Last night, I did some more cleaning up around the house and then met up with my father for some quick food and good conversation. I was in bed pretty early, that is after some proper torturing of M.s. He just looked SO adorable in those pictures, and I was SO pent up, I just HAD to ravage him! And ravage him I did.

This morning has been all a bustle, I don�t think I�ve ever had this many files literally on my desk at the same time. Oh, I�m working them all right. Tonight is another math class, oh happy day. My file clerk, a wonderful woman from Germany, just told me, �Go to the movies. Be an actress.� And here I thought I was toning it down with my garish histrionics. She says it�s because of the way I laugh. Right now, as I�m typing this, she�s standing over me and trying to imitate my giggle. I think it�s adorable. She has no idea I�m typing about her as she moves about my office, punching holes in papers, pulling files from the cabinet. She just told me to do something immediately, and I said, �ooh, you sound so demanding,� and she replied, �I�m pretending to be you.� To which I say, as I type, �Good. I like it when people are me.�

Hee hee. Okay, enough of that game. It�s a busy day, I�m going to continue my work. I�ll get to you later, trust me. There�s ALWAYS shit to talk about. Ahem... I mean type about.

-Barbarella

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