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"Living With George Bush"

In August 2002 George Bush allowed me, Martin Bashir, and a camera crew to follow him around for a few months of his life. We would see everything there is to see about him, and nothing would be left uncovered. This is what we saw.


The first stop on this grand adventure was the house and grounds. On seeing his residence I couldn't help thinking it looked a bit too much like the White House. I felt the need to confront him about it.

"George, your house is very....white"

"Yes, it is, isn't it?"

"Erm..it has a lot of pillars as well"

"I've never really took much notice. I'm very busy usually"

"It looks a lot like the White House in many respects"

"It IS the White House, Martin"

This man was under the illusion that he lived in the White House. He seemed to think he was the President of the United States. But it got worse. Upon entry to the house we found a guided tour being shown around and lots of smartly dressed business men on mobile phones. I knew I had to return to this issue later.

After looking around the house we ventured into the grounds. It was a lovely sunny day, but George went out with dark glasses on. I asked him about it.

"Well I have a rare disease that means I'm blinded by public opinion, so it's best not to see it at all"

This man was very strange indeed. Little did I know at this time that it would get much stranger. In fact, just a few seconds later, I was introduced to "Mr Friendly". This was a tree.

"You wanna meet Mr Friendly?"

"Who's Mr Friendly?"

"This here tree"

"Why is it called Mr Friendly?"

"Because whenever there's a conflict to resolve or some issue that I'm not quite sure how to dealify with, I come and site in Mr Friendly, and he tells me what to do"

"You actually climb trees?"

"Sure! Don't you?"

"No"

"Hell, you're missin' out Martin, come on up"

He began to climb the tree. I followed him, but I wasn't going to risk my life for this documntary.

"I'll stay here I think"

"Are you sure Martin?

"YES. I'M FINE."

"Okay..."

"So does 'Mr Friendly' have anything to say about the Iraq issue?"

"He has lots to say!"

"And how do you communicate with him?"

"Well you can try and transcendamify to a higher plain and talk on that level....but it was obvious what he wanted to say without doing that"

"Why?"

"Well, that there knot looks like a moustache, and those markings there bear resemblance to a bomb."

"I see..."

I decided to leave that issue alone and in fact leave him alone. I came back a few days later and george had a surprise for me.

"We're going to spend some dollar bills y'all!"

The next thing I knew we were surrounded by a crowd of people, who looked like a rather angry mob.

"Hey Martin, hear those German tourists saying "thankyou", that's what makes it all worthwhile"

I couldn't help thinking that they weren't quite saying "danka". Five minutes later and the paparazzi seemed to have descended upon us. They were trying to get as close as they could to Bush and his wife, who Bush always forces to wear a mask in public. We retired to the relative safety of a very exclusive and VERY expensive shop. I watched in awe as Bush looked around and chose things.

"Hmm, let's see....chess set, that's pretty useless.....UN resolution, well, there's no point getting another one of those....ah! The missile section! My favourite!"

I saw the shop manager's eyes light up.

"Excuse me, manager, what can these ones do exactly?"

"They can target every school, hospital and public sanctuary in a designated area, but are guaranteed not to hit military installations"

"I'm gonna need some more of these after the Afghanistan attacks...gimme five million!"

"Okay sir"

I couldn't help but ask.

"Just out of interest how much are these? Per missile?"

"Erm....I'm not really at liberty to divulge that kind of...."

I saw the price tag. It was $300 000. I knew I had to come back to this later on today. Which is what I did in the limo on the way home.

"So George, how much do you think you're worth?"

"Well....it's way up there"

"A billion dollars?"

"Don't be silly!"

"Less?"

"I said don't be silly!"

"Okay then, those missiles you bought today, they were a lot of money. I mean A LOT of money"

"Yes"

"Wouldn't that money have been better spent on feeding the homeless or something equally as deserving?"

"Aw, come on Martin , it's embarassing!"

It was obvious that he wasn't going to answer my questions along that route. I decided to go along a different line of questioning.

"So....you're wife"

"Yes"

"I can't help noticing that you always make her wear a mask in public. Why is that?"

"So you can't see her face. I'm the important one, she doesn't matter"

"Right..."

I left it for that day. When I came back I had to deal with what i thought was one of the most disturbing things about George Bush - his relationships with other leaders. I came to his house to find a prime minister, Tony, at his house. I couldn't help noticing that they were holding hands.

"George, what is your fascination with other leaders?"

"I wouldn't call it fascination, I just give love to them"

"Do they ever sleep over"

"Yes, all the time!"

"Tony, have you ever slept over?"

"Yes, I slept in George's bed. I was like, 'you sleep in the bed' and he was like, 'no, you have the bed', but I was like 'no YOU have the bed' and he was all like 'no I'll sleep on the floor you have the bed'"

"George, did you sleep in teh bed at the same time?"

"Well, I was like 'you sleep in the bed', and he was like 'you sleep in the bed' and I was like 'no you sleep in the bed'"

"But did you sleep together in the bed?"

"Well, I was like-"

"Did you sleep together in the bed or not?"

"...Yes"

"Is this a regular thing?"

"Yeah, it's just giving love to people who need love. Sharing your bed is the most loving thing you can do. In fact, when John Major was little he'd be on this side, Edwina Currie would be on this side and Virginia Bottomley would be at that end, and we're all just jammin' the bed"

You heard it here first: there was jam in the bed.

"But is that right George?"

"It's very right. It's what the whole world should do"

"So you're saying that while the world is in termoil all the heads of state should be in bed together?"

"You're making that sexual. It's not sexual. We put music on, have cookies, storytime, read a book, it's very charming. It's rarely sexual"

"Rarely?"

"I meant never"

"Okay...now your face. You've been ridiculed for having a face like a chimp. But you didn't have a face like a chimp five years ago. In fact, you didn't have a face like a chimp last week. Are you keeping something from us?"

"No, it's called growing and changing"

"But you're over forty, you've stopped growing and chainging, and yet you have a different face to last week"

"It's called growing and changing, everyone's face changes"

"I also can't help noticing that you have udders. Now those can't be natural"

"It's called puberty, people's looks change over time"

"Not to the point of growing udders! People don't have udders!"

"Look, I can't help it if I've got a disease that makes me grow udders, I have no choice over what God gives me, as far as I know there is no operation to attach udders"

And so my time with Bush came to an end. I had learned a lot - about the eccentricities and strangeness of this man. I'm sure we will never know the full extent of his deviation from normality, but maybe we don't want to.

In August 2002 George Bush allowed me, Martin Bashir, and a camera crew to follow him around for a few months of his life. We would see everything there is to see about him, and nothing would be left uncovered. This is what we saw.


The first stop on this grand adventure was the house and grounds. On seeing his residence I couldn't help thinking it looked a bit too much like the White House. I felt the need to confront him about it.

"George, your house is very....white"

"Yes, it is, isn't it?"

"Erm..it has a lot of pillars as well"

"I've never really took much notice. I'm very busy usually"

"It looks a lot like the White House in many respects"

"It IS the White House, Martin"

This man was under the illusion that he lived in the White House. He seemed to think he was the President of the United States. But it got worse. Upon entry to the house we found a guided tour being shown around and lots of smartly dressed business men on mobile phones. I knew I had to return to this issue later.

After looking around the house we ventured into the grounds. It was a lovely sunny day, but George went out with dark glasses on. I asked him about it.

"Well I have a rare disease that means I'm blinded by public opinion, so it's best not to see it at all"

This man was very strange indeed. Little did I know at this time that it would get much stranger. In fact, just a few seconds later, I was introduced to "Mr Friendly". This was a tree.

"You wanna meet Mr Friendly?"

"Who's Mr Friendly?"

"This here tree"

"Why is it called Mr Friendly?"

"Because whenever there's a conflict to resolve or some issue that I'm not quite sure how to dealify with, I come and site in Mr Friendly, and he tells me what to do"

"You actually climb trees?"

"Sure! Don't you?"

"No"

"Hell, you're missin' out Martin, come on up"

He began to climb the tree. I followed him, but I wasn't going to risk my life for this documntary.

"I'll stay here I think"

"Are you sure Martin?

"YES. I'M FINE."

"Okay..."

"So does 'Mr Friendly' have anything to say about the Iraq issue?"

"He has lots to say!"

"And how do you communicate with him?"

"Well you can try and transcendamify to a higher plain and talk on that level....but it was obvious what he wanted to say without doing that"

"Why?"

"Well, that there knot looks like a moustache, and those markings there bear resemblance to a bomb."

"I see..."

I decided to leave that issue alone and in fact leave him alone. I came back a few days later and george had a surprise for me.

"We're going to spend some dollar bills y'all!"

The next thing I knew we were surrounded by a crowd of people, who looked like a rather angry mob.

"Hey Martin, hear those German tourists saying "thankyou", that's what makes it all worthwhile"

I couldn't help thinking that they weren't quite saying "danka". Five minutes later and the paparazzi seemed to have descended upon us. They were trying to get as close as they could to Bush and his wife, who Bush always forces to wear a mask in public. We retired to the relative safety of a very exclusive and VERY expensive shop. I watched in awe as Bush looked around and chose things.

"Hmm, let's see....chess set, that's pretty useless.....UN resolution, well, there's no point getting another one of those....ah! The missile section! My favourite!"

I saw the shop manager's eyes light up.

"Excuse me, manager, what can these ones do exactly?"

"They can target every school, hospital and public sanctuary in a designated area, but are guaranteed not to hit military installations"

"I'm gonna need some more of these after the Afghanistan attacks...gimme five million!"

"Okay sir"

I couldn't help but ask.

"Just out of interest how much are these? Per missile?"

"Erm....I'm not really at liberty to divulge that kind of...."

I saw the price tag. It was $300 000. I knew I had to come back to this later on today. Which is what I did in the limo on the way home.

"So George, how much do you think you're worth?"

"Well....it's way up there"

"A billion dollars?"

"Don't be silly!"

"Less?"

"I said don't be silly!"

"Okay then, those missiles you bought today, they were a lot of money. I mean A LOT of money"

"Yes"

"Wouldn't that money have been better spent on feeding the homeless or something equally as deserving?"

"Aw, come on Martin , it's embarassing!"

It was obvious that he wasn't going to answer my questions along that route. I decided to go along a different line of questioning.

"So....you're wife"

"Yes"

"I can't help noticing that you always make her wear a mask in public. Why is that?"

"So you can't see her face. I'm the important one, she doesn't matter"

"Right..."

I left it for that day. When I came back I had to deal with what i thought was one of the most disturbing things about George Bush - his relationships with other leaders. I came to his house to find a prime minister, Tony, at his house. I couldn't help noticing that they were holding hands.

"George, what is your fascination with other leaders?"

"I wouldn't call it fascination, I just give love to them"

"Do they ever sleep over"

"Yes, all the time!"

"Tony, have you ever slept over?"

"Yes, I slept in George's bed. I was like, 'you sleep in the bed' and he was like, 'no, you have the bed', but I was like 'no YOU have the bed' and he was all like 'no I'll sleep on the floor you have the bed'"

"George, did you sleep in teh bed at the same time?"

"Well, I was like 'you sleep in the bed', and he was like 'you sleep in the bed' and I was like 'no you sleep in the bed'"

"But did you sleep together in the bed?"

"Well, I was like-"

"Did you sleep together in the bed or not?"

"...Yes"

"Is this a regular thing?"

"Yeah, it's just giving love to people who need love. Sharing your bed is the most loving thing you can do. In fact, when John Major was little he'd be on this side, Edwina Currie would be on this side and Virginia Bottomley would be at that end, and we're all just jammin' the bed"

You heard it here first: there was jam in the bed.

"But is that right George?"

"It's very right. It's what the whole world should do"

"So you're saying that while the world is in termoil all the heads of state should be in bed together?"

"You're making that sexual. It's not sexual. We put music on, have cookies, storytime, read a book, it's very charming. It's rarely sexual"

"Rarely?"

"I meant never"

"Okay...now your face. You've been ridiculed for having a face like a chimp. But you didn't have a face like a chimp five years ago. In fact, you didn't have a face like a chimp last week. Are you keeping something from us?"

"No, it's called growing and changing"

"But you're over forty, you've stopped growing and chainging, and yet you have a different face to last week"

"It's called growing and changing, everyone's face changes"

"I also can't help noticing that you have udders. Now those can't be natural"

"It's called puberty, people's looks change over time"

"Not to the point of growing udders! People don't have udders!"

"Look, I can't help it if I've got a disease that makes me grow udders, I have no choice over what God gives me, as far as I know there is no operation to attach udders"

And so my time with Bush came to an end. I had learned a lot - about the eccentricities and strangeness of this man. I'm sure we will never know the full extent of his deviation from normality, but maybe we don't want to.

So, is anyone capable of humour not involving George Bush / Iraq/ America, or is that the sole act this year ?

~~Belldandy~~

George Bush and Colin Powell in a bar having a drink,
a guy comes up and says to colin, "so what's the deal with this situation in Iraq"

Colin pauses, sips his beer and then says "well, we're gonna storm in there, kill 10,000,000 Iraqis and a blond girl with big breasts"

the punter looks a little confused and says "so what's with killing the blond girl with big breasts"

at this point colin turns to george and says
"See, I told you no one would care about 10,000,000 Iraqis!"

Belldandy wrote:
> So, is anyone capable of humour not involving George Bush / Iraq/
> America, or is that the sole act this year ?
>
i agree, but you must admit not a bad post though
and i certainly wouldnt want to live with george bush, only fo the money
*im not greedy*

Belldandy wrote:

Statement:

> So, is anyone capable of humour not involving George Bush / Iraq/
> America, or is that the sole act this year ?

Example:

> ~~Belldandy~~

Results:

LOL

Belldandy wrote:
> So, is anyone capable of humour not involving George Bush / Iraq/
> America, or is that the sole act this year ?
>
> ~~Belldandy~~

I knew you'd say that, but it was just as much having a go at Martin Bashir and Michael jackson as it was at George Bush. You should have read it.

Oh, and yes, it is the sole act this year.

And out of interest, given the title of the thread, why did you bother to come in here if you're bored of these jokes?

Pop....or words to that effect.