Dear Diary: This job can be incredibly frustrating: like knowing I am as cool as Kanye and yet constantly being mocked for wearing mom jeans. One hack even wrote that journos who think I'm cool wouldn't know cool if it came out of a pigeon's ass and hit them in the face. Au contraire, as Nicolas Sarkozy might say: Just look at the way I handled things after a student spilled yogurt on me. A wipe with a napkin, then a quick change in the rear of the Beast into the spare suit that Marv stores in the trunk for such occasions. Now the restaurant where that incident occurred was so dazzled by my cool that it has named a parfait of Greek yogurt and fresh berries after Me. How cool is that? It's bedtime and I must take a moment to say a prayer of thanks to Myself, close the lap top and get Boo-boo My blankey out from under My pillows. Barry love blankey... um-num-num-um. Boo-boo, at least, knows I'm truly cool. And so to bed.
