4 November 1998 - AFRICAN AMBASSADOR
Being the ambassador to a small African nation is excellent. Not only do I get to commit as many crimes as I want, and get away with them due to my diplomatic immunity, but I also get a big swivel chair in my office.
There are drawbacks to my job, however: yesterday, for example, I was entertaining the Welsh ambassador, when I span around in my chair too fast, and buckled the mechanism. We couldn't resume the meeting until my special helper had come in and fixed it.
5 November 1998 - AFRICAN AMBASSADOR
My job as ambassador to a small African nation isn't going too well; yesterday I got a bit confused at a meeting of the United Nations, and accidentally sat in the Welsh ambassador's chair.
Suffice to say he wasn't particularly pleased to see me there, and when I refused to move, he tried to sit on my lap. I ended up pouring coffee in his hair, which is long and blonde, and like a girl's hair. He also smells like a girl. He's a stupid girl.
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