Dear Diary,

I’m still pissed, but I’ve calmed down enough to hold a pen.

Last week I was sitting on my deck overlooking The Bay, sipping a double decaf, latte with Sweet and Lo, when I heard Rosa, my housekeeper, arguing with what sounded like two men.

The next thing I know, these two guys wearing bandannas and MoveOn.org tee shirts came storming onto my redwood deck and dragged me out of the house, tossed me into back seat of a Hybrid and sped drove away. WTF? You bet I raised hell with these two assholes; I told them who I am and demanded to know what was going on!

The guy in the passenger seat said, “Yes, we know who you are, but we have our orders, and this is for the good of the party.”

I screamed, “The good of the party? Are you crazy? I’m calling Howard Dean this minute!”

Imagine my surprise when they told me that their orders came from Howard Dean. The guy in the front seat explained that Howie had gotten a call from George Soros and that Mr. Soros wanted me to “disappear until the election is over.” He said that I was a “distraction” and that I was jeopardizing his investment.

Distraction? Distraction, my ass! Everyone wants to hear my ideas, and besides, I’m a goddamned hottie!

I told the MoveOn Duo that I intended to run away as soon as they stopped the car, and that I might even call the police (I secretly figured I could blame the whole thing on Karl Rove – The Times would run with it). They laughed and told me that Mr. Soros said that if I try to escape, he will go to the press with the story about the night I spent with a college rugby team, a quarter keg, and a mondo bong, which was constantly kept full of quality hash. And, he has the video to prove it!

OMFG!

I guess I’ll stick around here for a bit. Besides, it will give me some time to think about how really cool it will be to be the Speaker of the House. Speaking of the Speaker (a little joke … LOL), how about that blimp Denny Hastert? Ewwwwww. I will look much sexier in that big chair in the front of that room where everyone meets than that load does. (Memo to self: Get that chair reupholstered – I’m thinking chartreuse.)

Writing about Fat Denny gets me to thinking about that switch-hitter Foley and his sexy e-mails to that page. Let me tell you, Dear Diary, I knew that page, and he was a flat-out HUNKAROONIE. Shoulda seen the buns on that kid! Between you and me, Diary, I sent that kid a couple of hot, steaming e-mails. In one of them I even sent him a pic of my tits. He replied, that I wasn’t “his type”.

WTF?

At the time, I thought he must be crazy – hell I sent him a picture of the Pelosi melons, with the high beams on fer Chrissake, but WHO KNEW? ROTFLMAO!!!

Well, Mr. Soros has seen to it that my little “undisclosed” hidey-hole has a fridge stocked with caviar and Cristal, and there are plenty of Sarah McLachlan and Yanni CDs on hand, so I guess I can tough it out.

What Mr. Soros doesn’t know is that, once I am the Speaker of the House, it won’t be long before I’ll be my friend Hilly’s Vice President, and then I’ll give that Hunkie Prick a swift kick in his paprikas!

Distraction, my ass!