Its 2006, Oh Lord...

My owe my owe my am I hung over... Wow. You could say I tied six or seven on yesterday, and my head is just throbbbbbing. Sure am glad Scott had me record my New Years Radio Address early, because I don't think I could string more than six spoken words together today. Dick called earlier and asked if I could call Vladamir to ask him about some Ukrainian gas prices or something, but I can't even find the Oval Office right now because I am in a head spin. Champagne, wine, bourbin, gin, beer... those girls of mine really know how to party. I thought I used to know, but last night they had me drinking out of a hollow statue of Abe Lincoln. Laura had a few shots and hit the hay, and later Scott cornered me in the Rose room where I think he tried to kiss me, but I was so drunk, I can't hardly remember me. Wouldn't be unusual though. Scott is always trying to kiss people when he gets drunk. Over Thanksgiving he tried to kiss Dick but got punched. Then he had to wear make up for the next two weeks. Dick can punch really hard. Wait, oh wait a second, I'm in Crawford... what the .... Shit. I'm supposed to be giving out Purple hearts in a few minutes here... shit.
Oh Lord, oh lord, oh lord, does my head hurt this morning.... Maybe Margi can get me some more juice and toast.
Its not like the ol'days when I could put back lots of drinks, "and other stuff" and not even feel it the next day. Whew-O-Whew!
Well, It's 2006, supposed to be the most fantastical year of my Divine Kingship.... he hee hee... I mean, Presidency!