Dear Diary: Here I am Down Under for the G20 summit. The people seem friendly, if a little too familiar. I'm not sure if someone of my distinction should be addressed by a room service waiter as " mate" and asked if I would like a "cold one" before dinner. When I answered in the affirmative, I was offered a formidable choice of beer. I opted instead for a vodka from the well-stocked mini bar. I called room service to ask for a pair of swimming shorts. "Certainly, sir, would you like surfing style shorts or budgie smugglers?"
"Budgie smugglers?" I asked. "That's what we call Speedos these days because they look like the wearer has a budgerigar (parakeet) stuffed down the front. "I'll have a budgie smuggler and would like a pair delivered to President Obama's suite. Charge it to me." There is method to my cunning... I want Obamavitch to have no excuse when I invite him to have a swim.
