Secret Diary of The Prime Minister

"I send Obama an emoji of a sunshine face sipping on a cocktail straw to remind him of our summer in Hawaii, but I don't hear back." Photo / Norrie Montgomery

MONDAY

At the end of the day I think the majority of New Zealanders will agree with me that what the country needs most right now is a giant panda.

Those stuffed ones always go down well with children. Todd Barclay brings his to question time sometimes.

Of course, there are costs involved in getting a live panda, but we could bring the price down if we threw the Chinese a few kiwi. New Zealand has an excellent track record in sending livestock overseas. Many of the sheep we sent to Saudi Arabia are holding up well.

I looked into the possibility of getting giant pandas back in 2010, so I have some basic knowledge.

There are 42 species of bamboo which pandas eat. Each species has a life-cycle and will flower and die off every 20 to 40 years, depending on the species. An adult panda needs to eat more than 30 kilos of bamboo per day, depending on what part of the bamboo they are eating.

Anyway, best press on. English wants to discuss the latest unemployment figures, whatever they are.

TUESDAY

Upsetting news about Dave.

At least he didn't do it with a giant panda.

WEDNESDAY

Upsetting news about my press agent Mike.

"He's taken ill," said my aides.

I said, "Who's looking after him?"

They said, "Martin Devlin."

God almighty.

I rushed to Mike's side. He said, "I had a lump in my throat."

I said, "So did I when I heard the news. Hang in there, mate. New Zealand needs you. The New Zealand Government needs you. I need you."

He said, "Do you really mean that?"

I said, "Yes. Yes, Mike, I do."

He smiled through his tears, and said, "I've got a lump in my throat."

Martin Devlin burst into the room and thumped him on the back.

"I looked into the possibility of getting giant pandas back in 2010, so I have some basic knowledge."

THURSDAY

Ugh. Dotcom is in court. I don't know why but my face always goes bright red when I hear his name.

Obama texts every five minutes demanding to know why the judge hasn't ruled that Dotcom must be extradited back to the US.

I tell him that the hearing has only just started.

He says he has Hollywood breathing down his neck and he owes them for all the support they've given him over the years.

I tell him that the hearing has been set down for four weeks.

He says that the FBI and various other surveillance agencies went to a lot of time and trouble eavesdropping on Dotcom, and they have a right to expect results.

I tell him that justice has to take its course.

He texts back, "[EXPLETIVE REDACTED] YOU."

I text back hurriedly, "JUST JOKES ALL GOOD : )."

He says it better be, otherwise I can kiss his ass and while I'm at it I can wave goodbye to any chance of that TPP deal ever crossing the line.

I send him an emoji of a sunshine face sipping on a cocktail straw to remind him of our summer in Hawaii, but I don't hear back.

What a stressful exchange. I'd really like to talk to someone who understands, another world leader, but I don't know the new Australian guy and I guess Dave's a bit tied up.

FRIDAY

English comes up to me in a corridor of power and says, "I've been waiting all week for you to meet me so we can sit down and discuss the latest unemployment figures."

I told him, "Here's some figures for you: 58; 14."

He said, "What?"

I said, "This morning's game. All Blacks 58, Namibia 14. Smashed 'em. Everything's on track.

"We're on our way to the final. And you know what that means!"

He said, "The All Blacks have a good chance of winning the Webb Ellis Cup and once again be crowned champions of world rugby?"

"That," I said, "and three more years."