Dear Diary: I was reminded today why I normally restrict my golfing buddies to aides or longtime friends. They know not to upstage Me. Today, I made the mistake of inviting the New Zealand Prime Minister, John Key [who has a Hawaiian vacation home] and his teenage son Max, to join me for a round of golf. At the only hole that is visible to the street, I putted my ball several feet short of the hole, while Max sank his in one shot. Father and son completely ignored my frosty glare. John Key is a presumptuous man, Prime Minister of a country about the size of California, best known for its rugby team called the All Blacks which they aren't] and kiwi fruit. Key has his office in a peculiar-looking building called The Beehive which is notable for its almost complete lack of security [after all, what would be achieved by blowing it up?] But enough about me.