....Ah yes . . . my illiterate maid was a spy and read all the classified documents I regularly took home and reported to . . . whom? The Russians? We did quite a bit of work WITH the Moroccan govt....
....Funny story about the maid....
...."But Fatima," says my wife, "you can't write!" "That's OK, madame," replies Fatima....
One would wonder, if someone, under you, showed up for work one day with one of those documents under their arm, do you laugh it off because it's funny?
After the smok'in-n-jok'in settles down, would you at least say, make sure you have vlad, our illiterate Moroccan file boy, put that away in our xerox room before he disappears on his routine three hour lunch in the crowded street market?
That reminds me of the hill-n-huma story that hill told on tv about using wipies on her computers and hammers on her phones. Of course, it's just a funny story from the good ole days as head of all embassies. She didn't have to tell it, but she got a good laugh out of it, eh?
