Oh! To Be In Albania...

Oh, to be in Albania, now that spring is here. George Bush was having this wonderful dream. He was in this wonderland, where his approval rating was a solid 100 percent; where there were no nasty Senators calling for his impeachment; where back-stabbing members of his own party were not telling the nation he had mismanaged the war (et tu, McCain?); and where people did not snigger whenever he made a speech, waiting to pounce on the inevitable gaffe (didn’t they realize he put those on it on purpose, to provide a little leity…levity? Well, laughs).

Why just this morning, he was out and about amongst a huge crowd cheering and shouting his name and laying rose petals at his feet. Folks were climbing over one another, desperate to shake his hand. This was what he became President for.

George Bush opened his eyes and realized it wasn’t a dream, after all. This was for real. The hosannas were still ringing in his ears. OK, so it was some penny-ante little country in Eastern Europe, but these folks worshipped him. Heck, they would make him Emperor if he lifted his finger. He hadn’t seen that look in anyone’s eyes since he had stood on the deck of that aircraft carrier and declared ‘Mission Accomplished’. This was a good place to be in.

George Bush thought he could really get used to this. Why, just last week during the debate, he had heard that uppity, former-First-Lady-wanting-to-be-First-Man talking about suitable roles for ex-Presidents. If she won, as seemed likely, maybe he could persuade her to appoint him Ambassador to Albania – for life.