Yes, another splendid morning in Cuidad El Jefe. The Great One -- awakened at the civilized hour of 11 a.m. by his comely Mindy Farrar-lookalike mistress (or does she look like Anna Nicole Smith ?) greats the world with much satisfaction -- smirking with the knowledge that the names of the two lookalikes are going to drive Google hits on this site up, up, up. . .
All is indeed well with the world, El Jefe concludes, perusing his favorite reading: the Security Police reports. The Ciudad El Jefe arms factories are going flat out (defensive weapons, of course -- except when they're not), for his vast armies of goombas. The Ciudad El Jefe press is the freest in the world, and the censors keep it that way. The parliament is not in session -- but who needs it anyway ? The workers and peasants are happy and productive -- the Organs of State Security make sure of that.
A decadently huge breakfast on the palace's outdoor gallery, served by El Jefe's faithful major domo, Fritz, (complete with monocle, tails, gold watch fob, a supercilious air, und der accent). Some black, black coffee, an omelet and mimosas. Servants and ever loyal, ever vigilant guards (complete with Chicago Pianos) prowl around. Life is good.
But what's that buzzing ? Helas, the alarm clock brings El Jefe back to the real world, as SWMBO tells him to get his, er, posterior, out of bed and get to work. Probably a good plan. Hope your day is a good one.