Goodballoon's paunch

I suppose I better say something about something for once, eh? It is so difficult when you are as old and infirm as I am to get particularly excited about current events. When you've been cock-fighting with Ernest Hemingway, arm-wrestling with Mariel Hemingway and tea-bagging with Bo Derek it is tough to get riled about what some second-rate shyster with a vinegar-stung minge and a spunk-scented mouth thinks... that's right! I'm talking about you, Mr Blair. Or something. Lock me up for telling it like it is. Ninety days? Ha! And as for you Mr Bush, or can I call you Snorty, like in the old days? What do reckon old chap? Complete victory? Sure thing big-boy. A victorious pink-hole piping for you from the "insurgents" in Iraq so far you cheap little hick. That cowboy dress-up game's getting a bit old, don't you think? Tres camp too. And as for you Mr Chirac, why I... Oh it's no good, I can't do it. I can't get excited about this bunch of second-string fucknuts. Wake me up when we've got someone interesting to talk about.