Hello, friend. What's that? Well, I've changed them three times today already. You're just going to have to put up with the smell. Goodbye then.
Sorry about that. As I was saying... yoga's going great! I haven't done it every day... but I've done it nearly every day, and the effects are nothing short of moderate! I can now touch my nipples and I throw a pretty mean fireball provided I yell "Fireball Attack!" and press down, forward, and B.
Did you know Barack Obama is the President of These United States? That's right. You tried to stop it but you couldn't.
The night before Inauguration Day, I dreamt I was at some party in a shack. You know, a shack party! I was in Chicago, but the shack was in the woods anyway. Obama stopped by on his way to DC. He made a speech for us, then opened some fan mail. Some kid sent him an old, beat-up Bible with the front cover missing. In the letter, the kid said that this Bible belonged to his family for generations, but he wanted Barack to have it for safe keeping. All of us in the shack wept as we were so touched by this gesture.
That VERY MORNING, Barack phoned and called me a sissy for having had such a dream. How he knew what I dreamt, I could not say. But he asked me not to sissify his big day with my sissy dreams. Joe Biden was snickering in the background.
I'm sorry I'm such a yoga-doing, dreamy sissy who shoots fireballs! But I can't pretend any longer! This is the real me!
Best Wishes Obama, my little gumdrop,
Birdhaus
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