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Joe Biden And The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

A parody inspired by Judith Viorst’s original children’s book from 1972, Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. Also inspired by Joe Biden looking sad and staring out a window.

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Jarry Lee / BuzzFeed / Simon & Schuster

I went to sleep after having a case of ice-cold colas and now my breath smells like soda and when I got out of bed this morning, I had a massive sugar hangover and by mistake I dropped my favorite red tie in the toilet after I used it and I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

At breakfast Barack found out he'd be spending the day with Beyoncé and Jill told me she'd be busy until dinner having fun with Michelle, but it said on my agenda I had to write a dumb, boring speech.

I think I'll move to New Zealand.

In the car on the way to run errands, Secret Service let Sasha have a seat by the window. Malia and Bo got seats by the window, too. I said I was being scrunched. I said, if I didn't get a seat by the window, I am going to scream, "This is a big fucking deal." No one even answered.

I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

At the morning meeting President Obama liked John Kerry's idea to obtain a compromise with Iran on their nuclear program better than my suggestion to just invite Hassan Rouhani over to the White House for a ping pong tournament.

At the press conference that followed Barack said I was smiling too much. At lunch he said I was acting too chill in front of the cameras. What's wrong with being chill? I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

Pool / Via Getty Images

I could tell because John Boehner said he wouldn't cooperate on the bill we were trying to pass. He said that he would do everything in his power to make sure it wouldn't become a law and that it was his greatest pleasure to wipe off the smile that's usually plastered on my face.

I hope you sit on a tack, I said to John. I hope the next time you get a single scoop vanilla ice-cream cone the only scoop falls right off and lands in New Zealand. Plus, you'll never look as cool as me eating ice cream.

There was an extra bag of fries in Valerie Jarrett's order from Five Guys and they even threw in a free malted milkshake for Barack. Guess whose lunch order they forgot to include?

I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

That's what it was, because after lunch I got stuck writing that dumb, boring speech without my designated speechwriter because they called in sick. I'll be back tomorrow and fix it, said the speechwriter.

Tomorrow, I said, I'm going to New Zealand.

Pool / Via Getty Images

On my way to the Oval Office I tripped on the hallway rug and while I was waiting for the president to show up I spilled coffee all over myself and then when I started crying because it burned so much John Boehner walked in and said I was a crybaby and while I was punching John for saying crybaby Barack walked in and scolded me for spilling coffee and fighting.

I am having a terrible, no good, very bad day, I told everybody. No one even answered.

So then we went to the Costco to buy some sweets. Barack picked out a cheesecake. Jill picked out fudge brownies. I wanted a cherry pie but then the salesperson at Costco said, "We're all sold out." They made me buy an apple pie but they can't make me eat it.

When we picked up Sasha and Malia from school they said I had to take my sunglasses off when I got inside the building but I forgot. They also said not to talk to any of their classmates, and I tried to keep to myself but everyone wanted my autograph. They also said don't take any selfies on their cell phones, but I think I sent one to someone in New Zealand. Sasha and Malia said please don't pick them up anymore.

Pool / Via Getty Images

It was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

There were California rolls for dinner and I hate California rolls.

There was a rerun of Dancing With the Stars on TV and I hate Dancing With the Stars.

My shower was too hot, I got shampoo in my eyes, my American flag pin went down the drain, and I had to wear my silk elephant pajamas. I hate my silk elephant pajamas.

When I went to bed Jill hogged all of the covers even though she promised she'd share this time and the battery on my iPad went out and I stubbed my toe.

The dog wants to sleep with Secret Service, not me.

It has been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

Barack says some days are like that. Even in New Zealand.

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