I had lunch at the World Bank food court today, and I totally love it. I cream my knickers every time I’m there. Lucas and I went a couple weeks ago, to meet up with Gerold, who is eradicating world poverty, one delicious bite of tandoori chicken at a time. I want to live there. There’s a dry cleaners and a library and a fancy restaurant with a fancy buffet and a world class art collection of exotic woods and their visitor badges are a million times cooler than our permanent ones (you get a different one with a new picture each time!) Plus, that’s where I’m going to find my international sugar daddy, posing as an apprentice economist. I trust Gerold will help me with this project. Before I came here, I thought the World Bank was evil and Gerold must be evil for working there, but now I know all the good that it is. They’re really doing their best over there. I met a bunch of them (those folks who work at The Bank) at Gerold’s housewarming, and they were all really nice and also international.
One highlight of going to lunch at the World Bank is passing the back side of the White House and seeing all the protesters and giving them thumbs up and smiles and bows. There were a bunch of LaRouche people who were singing really well, in a little gorgeous LaRouche chorus. The best part today was a bike messenger with his two middle fingers high in the air as he rode past.
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