Hello, human diary. It is I again, Mitt Romney, your better. I am tired of this. No matter how many times I praise their local foodstuffs or regale crowds with humorous anecdotes about the various times my family laid people off, this tax foolishness continues. I have already explained to these people that my taxes are of the legally correct height, and that the core reason for my campaign is to make them a different, lower height, and that it is none of their business what precisely either of those heights might be. This has always worked in the past, and I see no reason why it should not be working now.
I earnestly desire at this point nothing more than to purchase a new business just so I may have the momentary satisfaction of firing someone. None of these press units have been paying nearly enough respect to me, even after I pointed out that I could quite easily erase all of their hard drives. Even my own campaign surrogates cannot be fired, as we apparently do not technically pay them.
This campaign nonsense is a mess. I do not have believe I have had a single good day on the campaign trail since the Supreme Court decided that thing I did in Massachusetts that in hindsight was an abomination was not an abomination after all. Now that each day includes these new constant discussions regarding various idiot vice presidential candidates, I do not know how much more of this I can take.
An acquaintance at a fundraiser once muttered that it would be far less costly for we wealth units to simply purchase our own small nation and be done with it. I have seriously begun to consider it, but only if I could be assured that the others would in fact make me the president of that new country without undue irritation. There is no way I am going to subject myself to another damned primary.
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