Here’s another email I sent to my readers earlier in the year, right after Jeff Sessions declared he wanted to revoke the Cole Memo. The Cole Memo came from the Obama years when the A.G. told federal prosecutors to be cool to states wise and compassionate enough to allow recreational or medical marijuana use and use their energy for real crimes. Session thinks pot is as dangerous as heroin. I think Sessions needs to realize that 70% of the country’s population favors some form of legalized marijuana use, and roughly half the states in the country have passed pro-pot legislation. Naturally, as a concerned citizen, I called President Trump’s private line to complain. I’ll see if I can remember the gist of it for you:

After listening to me scream for a minute, the Donald sighed and made a suggestion. “You should call Little Jeff and bury the hatchet.”
“Really? Bury the hatchet? I like how you think. At least about this. And believe me, I’d love to. But I’m a pacifist, and besides, isn’t that, you know, illegal?”
“I didn’t mean it literally.”
“Oh. It’s just with your questionable mental stability, I can never be sure.”
“What are you talking about? I’m a very stable genius.”
“Don’t you read your own Tweets?”
“Reading is highly over-rated. I have people who read for me. Actually, throughout my life, my two greatest assets have been my mental stability and being, like, really smart.”
“You’re well spoken. . .for a Valley Girl.”
“I’d be the greatest Valley Girl ever if I wasn’t so busy ruling the world. Which reminds me, I’ve got a tee time in twenty minutes, gotta run. Let me give you Little Jeffie’s private number.  Give him a message for me. Tell him to get in line or start looking at the want ads. I’ve got a vote rigging investigation I need him to tamper with.”

With the holidays over, I’m grinding away at the laptop, cranking out the stories. I was pleased with the recent great news in California. Pot is legal there! Finally. It’s been a long time since my peers and I started our philanthropic mission to change the world with better marijuana. And just like the first moon landing, it’s a giant leap for mankind. Well, a good start, anyway. Which reminds me of a conversation I had with Neil Armstrong at Cape Kennedy so many years ago. The details are a little fuzzy, but I’ll do my best.

I decided to quit procrastinating give my blog some attention. I did that several months ago, but obviously I procrastinated on that. How come? The guru I’ve been paying to teach me how to promote my books, told me not to bother with blogs. So why am I starting now? Because the same guru told me to go and bother with blogs. Anyway, I’m finally adding some posts that should have gone in here months ago. They are copied from the fun emails I send to my readers list and I think you’ll enjoy them.

I wrote this one last New Years, and it’s already late May, but I hope 2018 has been a happy year for you. You know, despite what’s going on in Washington. Don’t blame me. I did what I could to upgrade the situation via my annual phone call to the sitting president. I felt a little awkward making this year’s call, what with my issues with Attorney General Jeff Sessions and his antiquated views on sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll. That and his revulsion to my sense of humor.
As I recall from our last encounter, Jeff imitated my dad, “Life is not about fun, Mister.”
“Not with you around, anyway.”
“Heh heh. . .that’s right! You’re lucky I’ve been too busy trying to stop this pernicious new attitude about marijuana to post that scathing Amazon review I threatened. Who cares if reefer can heal diseases, stop depression, and put an end to the escalating opioid epidemic? Don’t people realize that’ll cut into pharmaceutical profits? Hurt the tobacco and alcohol industries? The prison construction biz? Why, it’ll make people happy and friendly. Next thing you know there’ll be no more war. Then what happens to the poor defense contractors, arms dealers, mercenaries. . .”
He raged on like that for a while, even after I left the room.

But back to my annual New Year’s pep talk with the sitting president. Here’s a shot taken of the Donald as he listened to my suggestions for making the world a happier place in 2018.

He said he’d give my plan “all the consideration” it was due. I could be wrong, but going by the extended middle finger, I don’t think he was fully on board with my terrific ideas. The NSA won’t let me record calls with the Donald, so I’ll just paraphrase our conversation.
“Happy New Year, Mr. President.”
“Señor Bueno?”
“That’s right.”
“How’d you get my personal number?”
“Please, Don, am I not the son of the CIA’s Mad-Scientist-in-Chief?”
After a resigned sigh, the Donald said, “Happy New Year to you to, Mikey.”
I sensed a lack of sincerity, but I let it slide.
“So,” asked President Trump, “what can I do for you?”
“So many, many things, but I know you’re a busy guy.”
“That’s for sure. What with the new tax cuts, I’ve got a lot more disposable income to count.”
“Right. I’m sure the whole country is happy for you and your rich cronies.”
“Why wouldn’t they be? I’m the greatest president ever.”
“Then how come your popularity polls are lower than Nixon’s?”
“That’s fake news. Now, get to the point, I’m a busy man. Got a tee time in an half an hour.”
“Sure.” I knew I had to butter Donald up if I wanted to get anywhere, so I said, “Americans are thrilled with what you’re doing in office.” Judging by the smirk, he bought my bullshit. “But I think we’ll be even happier if legalize pot on a federal level.”
“Legalize pot? Hmm. . .that would really piss little Jeff off, wouldn’t it?”
“Big time, DonnyBoy, big time. And I know you’re angry with him about the FBI investigation into your rigging the election.”
“Damn right, Mikey, I do not like getting caught in a lie.”
“And yet, you do it constantly.”
“Not the point. If I can’t count on the country’s leading legal authority and self-proclaimed arbiter of morality to break laws on my behalf, well. . .”
“You need some fresh blood in that position.”
“No kidding. You have anyone in mind?”

“As a matter of fact, I know someone with a wider worldview. Someone who cares about humanity. Someone who’d be fantastic.” Out of humility, I left him hanging.
“Wait a second, are you saying you want to be the new Attorney General?”
“If I must, you know, but only for the good of the country. I’m not on a power trip like, ahem, like some people I could name.”
It went right over his orange head. “Tell you what, Señor Bueno, I’ll give your idea all the consideration it’s due.”

I’m not sure my chat with President Trump accomplished anything positive. Or that I wanted to be Attorney General. I mean, that’d make me a cop and totally uncool. Still, I wanted to let you know I haven’t given up. I’m still fighting the good fight for personal liberties, even if it’s from behind a laptop. That said, I hope you’re having a terrific 2018.