Cheney's blog

Dear Diary,

Dear Diary,

Just got back from the wedding of the year at GW’s “ranch” in that god-forsaken, asshole-of-the-world known as Crawford. I realize little Jenna has a mind of her own, but rejecting a White House wedding is just dumb loco. Why have leftover nachos when you can have the whole enchilada? Oh well.

Dear Diary,

As my reign begins to wind down, I’m beginning to notice that it’s the little things that make the world a more happier place.

Dear Diary,

I’m in great physical pain as I write this entry, dear diary. Every muscle, tendon, ligament is throbbing. I’m covered in Ben Gay from head to toe. How I got this way is a long, involved story. Let me explain.

Dear Diary,

I’m still dusting the sand off my clothes after my whirlwind tour of the Mideast. The travel was chaotic, the lines were long, the seats have no legroom and they don’t let you carry on your own baggage anymore. At least that’s what I heard were the grumblings of the media scum who followed me while I relaxed in my sky high jacuzzi aboard Air Force Two. Heh heh heh.