Me 'n Dubby

I was in Washington D.C. last week, and I figured that while I was there, I’d try out a few of the local brews, so naturally I went and found myself a bar.

As it turned out I was in excellent drinking form and was representing Oz with great distinction, when who should walk in but President GW Bush, himself. The two of us hit it off and I finished up chatting to the man, over a bourbon or two.

All that talk proved to be thirsty work and when I got back to the hotel, the room was spinning, somethin’ shocking, but I figured that this was a pretty significant moment in my life story, so I should scribble down a record of our conversation, as best as I could remember.

Me: Hey, Mr President. D’you wanna take a pew next to an Aussie and wrap your paw around a brew or two.

Dubby: Yeah, why not. I count your country as one of our greatest friends. You’ll sure as hell never hear a harsh word from me about the land of Mozart. But hey, call me Dubya and make it a bourbon, thanks.

Me: OK, I’m Truey. Glad to meet you. You don’t mind being called Dubya?

Dubby: Heayell no! Not since Dickie explained to me that Dubya was a famous Indian warrior.

Me: Thanks Dubya. So tell me, I’ve always wondered why did you do to war against Afghanistan?

Dubby: Geez dude. You musta started on the bourbons before me. I think you’ll find that the war was actually with Iraq. Here, look I’ll show you. Imagine this peanut bowl is Africa … well this little pool of slopped bourbon on the side here is the island of Afghanistan.

Me: But wasn’t it your mob that took on the Taliban in Afghanistan.

Dubby: Geez, ya got me thinkin’ now. Hey! You are so right. Two wars, eh. No wonder I get confused. But hold on. It’s all coming back to me now. Wasn’t it something about getting rid of those hideous burkhas? Ha ha, look at your face, Truey. I’m not talking about the people, you goose. I’m talking about their fashion sense.

Me: I thought maybe it was something to do with that 9/11 thing.

Dubby: Oh yeah, that too – I remember. After 9/11 we thought we needed to invade somewhere and preferably a country without modern weapons or significant allies. Some of our people were gunning for New Zealand, but we couldn’t find it on the map. Yeah … interesting … I hope we won. Wouldn’t be a good look losing to that mob. Hey Truey, I think our glasses are dying of thirst. Let me get this round.

Me: Yeah, so how’s that Iraq thing going, anyway. I keep reading stuff like it’s becoming another Vietnam.

Dubby: Naah. Iraq and Vietnam are completely different; one is long and skinny and the other is sort of chunky, although I forget which is which.

Me: I think they were talking about getting your boys out of Iraq, y’know, your exit strategy.

Dubby: It’s already done! We picked ‘em up in helicopters from the rooftops of Saigon and flew ‘em home.

Me: We might be getting our wires crossed here, Dubby. I’ was thinking about the exit strategy for Iraq, not Vietnam.

Dubby: Surely we don’t still have soldiers in Iraq?

Me: You sure do.

Dubby: Heads are gonna roll when I get back to the white house. I’ll have a couple of apache helicopters sent to pick up our boys, immediately.

Me: There are actually 140,000 American troops over there.

Dubby: Whoa! That is going to be difficult. I just hope there’s enough roof space in Saigon to pick ‘em all up. But this is getting to be a dry argument … your shout, I think.

Me: Umm, Saigon is now Ho Chi Minh City and it’s in Vietnam. But, I was actually wondering about your exit strategy for Iraq.

Dubby: Oh good. I was wondering when you were going to ask me about Iraq. Well, I really don’t understand what all the fuss is about. I managed it OK. Went to Iraq, served some turkey, hopped on a plane and took off home. That’s all there was to it.

Me: From which rooftop?

Dubby: Now don’t be like that, Truey; I know you’re trying to get me confused between Iraq and Vietnam, but it’s not going to work. Hey, two more of those, barman.

Me: Sorry mate. Must admit things are getting a bit woozy in here. So what did you think about all those photos of abuse and humiliation of prisoners in Iraq?

Dubby: *laughs* I don’t know what all the fuss was about. That thing with the leash and that fella balancing on the box, with the hood and the wires strapped to him; those were routine punishments in my family for years. Ha ha! It’s all right, Truey, I’m only joking. Had you going there though, didn’t I? But seriously, I think some of those things were a bit over the top. We need to remember that not everybody shares our sense of humour. Here get yourself on the outside of another of these.

Me: Dubby, While I’ve got you here, I’m really curious about the missing WMD.

Dubby: I’m gonna level with you, Truey. I’ve never ever understood what WMD stands for.

Me: Weapons of mass destruction.

Dubby: Oh right. You mean nukes. Darn it! Darn it! Darn it again! I just wish I’d known that was what they were all talking about. We’ve got thousands of ‘em, and I don’t think any are missing at all. Hell, I’ve only got to push a button on my desk and I can send ‘em all whooshing up in the sky, anytime I want.

Me: You’re not thinking of doing that are you, Dub?

Dubby: I’m telling you if you don’t get round to your next shout pretty soon, I’m gonna point ‘em at Austria, and boom!

We had a few more but things were getting a bit too hazy to remember clearly. Real good bloke though. Lots of laughs and this engaging capacity not to take anything seriously. How can you not like a fella like that.