WHY

Sometimes, I start to regret going into protection.

But then I take a nice relaxing trip to the shooting range and it recedes a bit.

Last week, however, there was a bit of a complication. After Madame President blew up her secondary office (there is no way they actually let her use the Oval Office) with the exploding earrings of mine that she NEVER GAVE BACK TO ME, she was forced to tag along to my office, which is a glorified garage with a couch.

It was the couch that started it all.

See, Madame President has this thing for couches. They have to be really comfortable, really big, and/or really bounce. Mine was none of the above. And as such, Madame President just HAD to make it her new personal quest to make my couch 'better'.

Let me say this right now: I like my couch. It is uncomfortable and smells like squirrels and decaf, yes, but it is my couch. So I told her NO. This, however, did not seem to deter her from rummaging around my 'terrorist drawer' (as SHE calls it, not me) for some metal parts to 'alter' my couch.

I tried to ignore her as I cleaned my Browning Automatic, but when she came up with wire cutters, a six-inch screw, a socket-wrench, and a screwdriver, I figured I should probably intervene.

"Madame President, what are you doing?" I inquired.

"Improving your living conditions," she replied, putting on a welding helmet and firing up a drill.

In the next three seconds, she proceeded to trip and fall onto a wheeled back-board, roll three feet and turn on my blowtorch, which then lit my couch on fire. MY couch. MINE. ON FIRE.

Ten seconds after that, the couch was covered in chemical fire-suppressant foam, the blowtorch was off, and Madame President was stuck head-first in a metal oil drum.

See, this is why I don't let her come to my apartment; there would be nothing left. God only knows how she became the president in the first place.

So, to work off my frustration, I took a nice trip to the shooting range.

Guess what building was closed for 'remodeling' due to a 'suspicious' explosion...

The shooting range.

Something/one is going to die, and at this point I don't care if it's a terrorist or a tetherball. I'm getting out my P-90.

My Post

Well, as Agent Lee stated below I was supposed to post months ago. But in my defense I've had too much to do, and I had Post on Blog written on a post-it note that was stuck to the back of my computer. Don't ask me how it got there, because I have no clue.
But Agent Lee has given me an idea!!! I will put down my own list of what I would like to do in the future. Goodie! *rubbing hands together in excitement* Let's begin....
1. Take over the word








(Wait a minute....I've already have done that....whoops. Oh well.)

2. Finish taking over China so that may be able to knock the earth out of orbit...
(i'll have to explain this one later.)








3. Take the world's leaders and my writing teacher out fly fishing.







4. Have a shinny robo suit like Iron Man. (With that, who needs secret service?)











5. Have secret Bases in every state that I could access with underground freeways.










6. Have a World wide PJ day.









7. Change the standard president dress to something along the lines of Matrix










8. Follow Agent Lee to one of her survival training trips and bring lots of chocolate chip cookies, matches, radio, and not share.








9. Travel by horse back from the tip of the rocky mountains in Canada to the bottom in Southern Utah/Arizona/Colorado/New Mexico.









10. Have Agent Lee fluent in ASL so that we can actually communicate during secret missions and be able to tell jokes to each other across the room during top secret meetings.










Madam President

Fun Stuff

Hello all. Madame President was SUPPOSED to update a few MONTHS ago, but she didn't. So I will, I guess.

Have you ever thought about what would be the coolest thing to do? EVER? I have. I've compiled a list here:

1. Go head to head against Jason Bourne.

2. Remove someone's appendix in an emergency surgery.

3. Skydive into rural Indonesia for six-day survival training.

4. Shoot a crossbow.

5. Drive a Bugatti Veyron

6. Ride a motorcycle on North Yungas Road


7. Hike through Aokigahara for survival training.

8. Spend a month in Malaysia surviving in the rainforest.

9. Re-enact a museum high-security robbery.

10. Fly a NASA X-43A.

Ah, the beauty of it all (even though most people say that I'm nuts).

Secret Agent Annabel Lee
United States Secret Service

A Night at the Cinema

College students are pansies. I'm sorry, but that's the truth. My brother (known here as 'Allen') and I went to see Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho at the local International Cinema. It was my first time watching the whole movie, so I was rather excited. I love watching Hitchcock films; the psychological 'glitches' in the characters are so incredibly engrossing that I think about them for days after.

So there I was, reading a spy novel before the movie, my brother Allen moodily texting Mom ('Mother's not quite herself today') saying that we had gotten seats (it's a free cinema, so it can run out of seats fast if the movie is popular enough). I tried to start a conversation with Allen, but he didn't respond, choosing to glare at the 'lowly college freshmen' that were present (he sometimes forgets that he, setting aside his 'superior mind and political views' is also a college freshman). I gave up on conversation.

At 1917 hours, the movie started. And--inevitably, perhaps--the students talked through the whole opening credits, which slightly bothered me, as the opening credits set the mood for the film (especially this one).

Sure enough, the students talked throughout, and laughed and screamed in all the wrong places. It was somewhat amusing, though.

But not to Allen. Allen acted as though it was a crime to humanity and ranted after the film about the 'immaturity of college students' who 'don't appreciate real cinema'.

I had to stop myself punching him in the shoulder and yelling 'BUCK UP!' After all, we're not all as tolerant as me...scratch that. MANY people are MUCH MORE tolerant than I am.

Special Agent A. Lee

Post Script: Madame President, I was actually referring to the sound-enhancing ones, though the regular ones would be nice to have as well. And don't even THINK I'm letting you anywhere near the exploding ones--things things are FLASH-BANGS. Even though they're small, they're still composed of magnesium and mercury.

You still want to borrow them?

I thought not.

report

I have some amazing news to share today. You might have heard about agent Lees problem with using ASL (American Sign Language) to communicate during different situations. Yesterday we made a breakthrough!!! I used a sign, (can't remember what sign at the moment though which is sad) and she knew exactly what it meant!!! It's a miracle I say! A miracle!

I also have a question for my dear beloved agent Lee. Which earrings are you referring to? The sound enhancing ones, the small explosive ones, or just the regular ones?

Bodyguard Woes

This is Special Agent Lee again.

Have you ever been in one of those situations where the principal (meaning the person you're hired to guard) just refuses to cooperate? When they just...run off into unknown situations and ignore all possible consequences of their actions? This seems to have become a sort of 'game' for my principal (who happens to be the president). She insists that bodyguards should have fun and 'loosen up'. So she runs off into a crowd or something and yells "Catch me if you can!"

With all due respect, Madame President: CUT IT OUT! If you get shot or injured or anything else, it's my rear that's going to get grilled, not yours. And if I get grilled for something like this, I am not letting you off the hook. Chain of Command be screwed. So I suggest you start acting your age...or at least your rank, for the love of all things espionage.

And for crying out loud, stop changing the communications frequency to music radio; there's only so much Kelly Clarkson and All-American Rejects an agent can take. And I need those earrings back.

Special Agent A. Lee
Secret Service

a word from the prez

Hello one and all. There is not much say about myself. The agent assigned to me at the moment is constantly bugging me about my little tests that I do every now and then. These tests consist of me disappearing into the crowd and hoping that agent Lee is man enough to come and drag me back. Believe me, she is. My ear still hurts from her long fingernails. Also these are not just tests. I get bored at times and the game hide and go seek is one of my favorites. My favorite part is trying to find a interesting hiding spot. Remember that time I hid in that tree right above the head of that one important person... can't remember that guys name right now... anyways...

I have only one thing to say about her comment about acting my age. I just have to point out that I am the elder of the team. I am also a thespian so that means I can "act" any age I choose to be at any moment and at any time. This helps me with the whole sneaky business that is required when you somewhat... *cough*... rule the world.

One more thing... I can't help myself if I like Kelly Clarkson and All-American Rejects. They have cool music. How about My Chemical Romance, We Shot the Moon, or that one guy that sings the song called Grace Kelly where he goes into falsetto?