What’s for dinner? We had handmade crab cakes and spicy yellow and green zucchini from the farmer’s market. It was all really, really good. The only drag was watching Hardball during dinner and hearing those talking heads bash my girlfriend Michele Bachmann for saying that “America is on a morbid obesity diet.” Look, Miss Thang is—what—a size double zero? If anyone can judge anyone else for being morbidly obese, it’s Mrs. Bachmann. Shantay, you stay, guurrl!

BTW, we still don’t have running water in our town, so we’re still using paper plates. I think the last time I took a shower was Saturday. Don’t judge. That’s Mrs. Bachmann’s job. And she thinks I’m fat. Plus, she said it’s my fault that god decided to wreak havoc on the Northeast with Hurricane Irene. And because she speaks with such conviction, she must be right, amirite or amirite? What can’t the lamestream media just leave girlfriend alone like Britney? Why?

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