His Excellency, the Honourable President of Zimbabwe Robert Mugabe celebrates soon his 85th birthday. He has decided to have fun though the people of Zimbabwe survive on international food aid, 94 per cent are jobless and cholera rampages through a population debilitated by hunger. This is what Mr Mugabe has ordered for his banquet:

- 2000 bottles of Moët & Chandon
- 500 bottles of Johnny Walker Blue Label
- 1000kg king prawns
- 3000 ducks
- 4000 portions of caviar
- 8000 boxes of Ferrero Rocher
- 16000 eggs
- 3000 cakes — chocolate and vanilla
- 4000 packs of pork sausages
- 500kg cheese
- 4000 packets of crackers

I think the most interesting item in the list are eggs. Who wouldn't  love to throw those eggs to Mr. Mugabe's face? In general, his taste is an interesting combination of hight and low: frankfurters with champagne. His Excellency is obviously a monster but this is something that I'm going to learn from him. When I turn 85, my list will be following:

- 1000kg Foie gras
- 8000 BigMacs
- 3000 bottles Crystal Champagne
- 3000 litres Kool Aid
- 9000 Godiva pralines
- 5000 Kinder surprise eggs

I’m not going to Arco, the big art fair in Madrid this week. I know that I could meet there many friends and art world big shots but I prefer to stay home. I went there every year and actually I never did good networking. Two years ago I punched a curator who talked me about biennials but actually just wanted to sleep with me (and I thought that I was a lad radiating pure heterosexuality) and last year I punched another curator who was harassing my gallerist. So this year I’m not going to drink Bar Cock’s overpriced cubalibres and I’m not going to punch anybody.

I just realized that I do the same things in my working and leisure time. In the mornings, I draw princesses in the studio and in the afternoon I color some more princesses in my daughter’s room. When I work, I go to Carrefour to buy candy and pizza (wrappings) that I use as source images and in the evening I go again to Carrefour and buy some healthier food to fill up the fridge.

Anyhow, I see more interesting things in the hypermarket than in an art fair. Does it sound bad, if I say that I’m not so interested in art? I like making art, not watching it. And all I want to do with my art is to corrupt your eyes and make you see your neoliberal nuggets and colonialist candy differently.

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Maybe it's not enough for the Guinness Book of Records but I think I reached the highest limit of the office work today replying to 50 e-mails.

I  wish I had money to hire a pink collar office lady to do the most basic stuff like sending my statements around, photoshopping pictures and booking flights. But would one OL be enough. I guess she wouldn't work from 8am till midnight like me. Actually, I'm a control freak and it would be difficult to delegate most of the tasks. If I had money to hire one person, he could be rather a painter and paint my works and I could do the clerical work. I think I have more talent for booking flights than painting.

Seriously, if I had money to have only one person, it should be a young and pretty office babe telling me how great artist I am and keeping my self-confidence high. But why should I have only one subordinate? I've heard that Damien Hirst has 150 people working full time in his studio. I must find out what is the composition of his staff. My wife says that I shouldn't dream but I want to be prepared for the success that might be waiting me behind any corner.

I had a very early flight with Aura from Larnaca to Bucharest. I was feeling fatigued with the idea of waiting at the Henry Coanda airport five hours before cathing my connecting flight to Madrid but Aura suggested to take me to the downtown, where she showed me her office that had been the residence of Nicu Ceauşescu, the son of the infamous dictator. The original decoration was beautiful but there was something sinister in the air.

Aura's son Mihai took me around the old town including a service in a beautiful orthodox  church. Romanians seem to be extremely religious. Those who didn't fit in were standing in silende in the church yard though they could see nor hear anything. Mihai had a flabbergasted expression on his face when I said that I'm atheist. Then we had savory cabbage rolls for the lunch and Mihai drove me back to the airport.