Hello, human diary. It is I again, Mitt, your better. It is good to be back in Deer Valley again. This resort get-together with my largest contributor units was a wonderful idea; looking around, it is perhaps the closest possible model for my vision of a perfect America. Every single person here supports me, has given me a large amount of money, and is pleasantly wealthy. Except for the servants, of course, but they are still dressed smartly. Poor people are so much more pleasant to be around when they are dressed in in a satisfactory manner. A national dress code for the poor would, I think, boost the American self-esteem quite significantly.
I have run across Karl Rove several times times already. On a lark, he has been occupying himself by calculating the sum total of the yearly tax savings that we in attendance will receive if I were to implement the tax policies I have previously endorsed. Every time I see him he seems very, very happy. I of course have not been coordinating any strategies with him, Mr. Diary, as that would be against commoner law, but I expressed to him my satisfaction with his efforts and told him that as reward, after the campaign is over I will take him for a ride on the roof of my car.
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