"Say, Hank, who is this guy"
"Says here he’s Tony B Liar, President of the United Kingdom."
"Jeez, Hank! ’Zat the Limey asshole that put the 45-minutes-tuh-Armageddon crap into Dubya’s State of the Union speech?"
"Reckon so, Bud."
"Then why in tarnation we standin’ up an’ hollerin’ fer him, like Julia Roberts was strippin’ off, or sump’n? Seems to me we soughta be givin’ him the hood an’ handcuffs treatment, down Guantanamo way."
"Hell, Bud, that’s politics. All Ah know is, every time Don Rumsfeld takes out his handkerchief, it’s a signal we gotta jump up an’ make like this guy’s the messiah."
"Say, Hank, did ya clock the wife - Sheree or some dumb Hicksville name like that? Ah’d sooner go home tuh Janet Reno."
"Yeah, an’ what about the gorrilla that’s his bodyguard, or sump’n - guy called Campbell, says he can’t function without him? That’s the kinda face we got the good taste in this country tuh hide under a Klansman’s hood."
"Here we go again - up ya get, Hank, an’ look like you’re ovatin’ from the heart. Ah’m gonna try whistlin’ through ma fingers this time - git a gold star from the party bosses."
And so it goes on.
Read the whole thing.