Debate Magazine
Dear Diary: "Here you are, Barry," said Valerie Jarrett as she discreetly handed me a small package from Nordstrom. She winked knowingly at me as the presidential daily briefing began. I peeped inside the package and saw a tube of Neutrogena anti-wrinkle cream. I ducked into the former Clinton masturbatorium and put the package on a high shelf out of sight of any casual glance from Michelle, who will hound me with cries of "you old poof" if she finds it. Nobody knows the troubles I've seen, in my simple attempt to keep looking young enough to succeed Ban-Ki-Moon as UN Secretary-General, after I quit the White House.
