I'll be reporting on President Bush's trip to Great Britain as the days go on. Here is my first report:
Air Force One arrived in London. As the plane circled overhead, George W. Bush gazed out the window pensively.
" Do you think these Limeys are gonna like me, Karl?" he asked, looking down.
"As long as you don't call them Limeys to their faces, Sir. Remember, Prime Minister Blair was our strongest ally in the war, so I would be pretty nice to him. On the other hand, I'd be pretty nice to the Loyal Opposition too, since Mr. Blair's support of the war will likely cost him the next election."
" Yeah, what the hell does that mean, the Loyal Opposition? Anyone who opposes me sure ain't loyal. That's why we created the Department of Homeland Security, so I'd feel secure that any disloyal son of a bitch finds his butt thrown in jail, right?"
" Well, not really Sir. Homeland Security is there to protect our country from terrorist threats."
" Same thing. Look Karl, These guys over here don't talk normal so I may need a translator. Do we have anyone that speaks British?"
" English, Sir. They speak English in Great Britain."
" I speak English!"
" Perhaps, Sir. There is some confusion about that."
" Look Karl, I'm the President of the United States, for god's sakes. If I say I speak English, then I speak English! Are you calling me a liar?"
" Let's not go there, Sir. Here, let's wipe the milk off your chin... we're getting ready to land."
" Where's my flight suit?"
" Uh, your not wearing a flight suit this time, Sir. The flight suit thing wasn't really a great idea in retrospect."
" Retro... what the hell does retro what-cha-ma-call-it mean? Is that British or something?"
" It means...oh skip it. Just wear what you have on, it looks fine. Well, take off the bib, but aside from that your ok."
The Plane lands and the President's limousine heads towards Buckingham Palace, past thousands of screaming protesters. George Bush looks out the window.
"Look Karl, they love me over here!"
Karl Rove looks at him in amazement. " I beg your pardon Mr. President?"
"They're all yelling ‘ Up with George Bush."
" Uh, actually they're yelling ‘Up George Bush', Sir. It's not quite the same thing."
" Whatever. Look at them all waving victory signs at me."
" Um, Sir, you see it depends on which way their hands are facing. When their palms face inward it means something other than victory."
" It don't mean peace, does it?"
" It definitely doesn't mean peace, Sir"
"Well, then, that's alright.", The car reaches Buckingham Palace. " Look Karl! They let a bunch of faggot pansy protesters up right to the gates! Can't we get them outta there? They got big sticks in their hands. Are we safe?"
" Sir, those are Beefeaters, the famous palace guards. Those sticks are pikes. It's what they carry."
" Well, what's with those sissy outfits?"
" Those are their uniforms sir. Great Britain has a long, rich history you see, and...."
" Don't talk to me about history, I failed history. Hated it. All those names and dates. It's stupid. History is the past. I'm the future! I'm all about the future. The future hasn't happened yet and that's what I'm about. I'm all about what's not happening."
The President stares gloomily at the Palace Guard, then brightens and grinning, elbows Karl Rove in the ribs. " I guess that's what you get when your country is run by a queen! Get it? You see, a queen is also a..."
" Yes, Sir, I get it, I get it. Please don't tell that joke again until we get back to the States."