Peas In A Pod
12 September 2002
James doesn't wonder why we don't get told about stuff like this.
There are around two hundred countries in the world. That's a good number for kick-ass party. Get a good band up on stage, enough quality booze down their throats, and soon all the world leaders are bumping and grinding to that live funky beat. Some of them are actually quite good dancers. Most aren't though and have little or no shame. Since Yeltsin has gone, however, the others do get some room on the dance floor.
There are two middle aged men leaning against the long dark bar, having one of those deep meaningful conversations that only male strangers can have with one another after reaching a certain level of drunkenness. Just a couple of shorts away from the "you're my bessht mate I love you" stage...
"You know, I should hate you Saddam, for going after my daddy in '93 like that, but you seem ok".
"Well hell, it was only a bit of fun. If I had a penny for all the failed assassination plots your daddy threw at me, I would be able to afford I would be able to finally get my hands on that weapons grade uranium I've been after."
"See (pointing unsteadily) I knew it! All those lily-livered peace-huggers can kiss my wrinkly ass."
"Well, you've already got nukes. Maybe I should send a pre-emptive strike up the Potomac?"
"(laughing) You can't because I've already got nukes. That's why they're so great. Can't really blame you for trying though, S-man (punching shoulder)"
"(not really listening) And you sponsor a damn sight more terrorists than I do. Those Northern Alliance buggers are bloody nasty bunch. Word of advice - don't go round to dinner at theirs. You don't know which tribal warlord will be on the menu. (an inappropriately explosive guffaw)"
"Yeah well we can't have people coming and attacking us in the US. So we went and attacked someone else in their country to show that we can do it even worse than them! (Saddam doesn't understand George's drawl through the fit of giggles."
"Hey look, there's that Mugabe. Let's get him over here - he tells great dirty jokes. He says that weird mini-Hitler moustache is a sex thing for the ladies. Tickles their fancy in just the right way apparently."
"Might give that a go - how do you think I'd look with a big fat Stalin across my face"
(the conversation falters as they both fall about. The Emperor of Japan, Sultan of Brunei and Prince Phillip push their way to the bar and loudly demand another round of B-52s)
"You know what George, we're not that different if you think about it. We both like weapons of mass destruction"
"But there's no way either of us would let the UN see any of it!"
"Yup, and we both arm and train terrorist organisations"
"Yeah, and we've both started wars against other countries"
"And I flaunt my hostility towards you"
"And I flaunt MY hostility towards YOU"
"And soon we'll be having a war against each other"
"I dunno but it seems kinda poetic in a poetic kinda way (those last couple of tequilas are getting to George now)"
"(hic!) Fuck I hate the hiccups more than the Kurds. So anyway George, you going to invade or what? Seem to getting some trouble getting support"
"Yeah, it's an annoying beeyach. Speaking of which - (clicks his fingers)"
Tony Blair sidles up next to them with a grinning glottal stop infused "Alrigh' guys, how's ih going?"
"Fuck off, Tony" they both say in unison, as they collapse across the bar laughing hysterically in each other's arms.
18 December 2003. George writes: This List
Most recent ten:
15 December 2003. Jamie writes: Seven Songs
11 December 2003. Dan writes: Spinning Jenny
8 December 2003. Victor writes: Rock Opera
4 December 2003. Matt writes: The Mirrored Spheres of Patagonia
1 December 2003. George writes: Charm
27 November 2003. James writes: On Boxing
24 November 2003. Jamie writes: El Matador del Amor; Or, the Man who Killed Love
20 November 2003. Dan writes: Rights Management
17 November 2003. Victor writes: Walking on Yellow
13 November 2003. Matt writes: Disintermediation
(And alas we lost Neil, who last wrote Cockfosters)
Also by this clown:
27 November 2003. James writes: On Boxing
16 October 2003. James writes: Jakesy's School of Urban Driving
24 September 2003. James writes: Chapter One
4 September 2003. James writes: The Silicon Soul
14 August 2003. James writes: A Room With 100 Seats
24 July 2003. James writes: English For Beginners
3 July 2003. James writes: Coldplay are crap. Discuss.
9 June 2003. James writes: It Takes All Sorts
22 May 2003. James writes: Lesson 2: Buying his Gran for a tenner
1 May 2003. James writes: Rosencrantz and Leytonstone
10 April 2003. James writes: Character Building
20 March 2003. James writes: So This Is It. What Are We Going To Do About It?
27 February 2003. James writes: Street Level Zero
6 February 2003. James writes: Reference: James Noteworthy
16 January 2003. James writes: Kissing George Clooney for just £99!
26 December 2002. James writes: Hongkong In Four Tableaux
5 December 2002. James writes: We Are Your Idea
14 November 2002. James writes: The Knight Of Spring Fervent
24 October 2002. James writes: Go On, Be Honest
7 October 2002. James writes: Cold Comfort
12 September 2002. James writes: Peas In A Pod
22 August 2002. James writes: Seed Investment
1 August 2002. James writes: We Are QPR
11 July 2002. James writes: The Road to Ossuna
20 June 2002. James writes: Pret A Teleporter
27 May 2002. James writes: A Play On Words
2 May 2002. James writes: Labour Saving Device
8 April 2002. James writes: Beggaring Belief
14 March 2002. James writes: Small Things
18 February 2002. James writes: Drop Dead Letters
24 January 2002. James writes: High-Rise Rhapsody
27 December 2001. James writes: My drift's too hip to resist.
6 December 2001. James writes: My Lord Has No Nose
12 November 2001. James writes: A Job For Life
18 October 2001. James writes: Which is the cleverest animal?
24 September 2001. James writes: Interview With An Automatum
30 August 2001. James writes: Each To Their Own
6 August 2001. James writes: An Escape, In Sonata Form
12 July 2001. James writes: Truckloads Of Goodies
18 June 2001. James writes: There's No Such Thing As A Coincidence
24 May 2001. James writes: It's All True - The Paper Says So
30 April 2001. James writes: A Letter From Prisyn
16 April 2001. James writes: I Quit
15 March 2001. James writes: An Essay In Procrastination
15 February 2001. James writes: Confessions Of An English Sand-Eater
22 January 2001. James writes: The Future And The Pasta
28 December 2000. James writes: Never drink with men in red
4 December 2000. James writes: The Underground
9 November 2000. James writes: Right answer. Wrong answer
16 October 2000. James writes: The March of Proudfoot: Part I
21 September 2000. James writes: You haven't got a chance
28 August 2000. James writes: Bad, man. Wicked
24 July 2000. James writes: I play games with street lamps
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