Myra Glasford returns for a late night snack. I would have taken her anywhere, but she asked for Taco Bell. I can't blame her much. There are limited options after 9pm. Myra has the enchanting aroma of bubble gum and Fritos. Reminds me of a guy we used to call Corn Pop. He loved him some Fritos. Anyhow, A girl like Myra makes me wish I was young again and could ignore all these old-people problems. I mean fuck, maaann. I am expected to lead the country when I can't even tie my shoe without getting a splitting headache. Hell, the last time I made a solid bm was at the age of seventy-seven. Where's Hunter? --J. Biden

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