As you have no doubt heard (and let's face it, if you're waiting for me to tell you the news from the UK you are woefully uninformed, as I've been very remiss in my duties as an ex-pat political blogger) Tony Blair has announced his imminent departure from Number 10. He is, in other words, resigning.
Yes. He finally got the hint, perhaps even one of mine. Tony and I have a long relationship. I've written to him here, here, here, and here, back in the days when my blog was actually good. (Perhaps we could all learn a lesson from Tony's departure: Don't wear out your welcome. As Tony and I've both discovered, you can coast a long way on past glories, i.e. Google hits, but eventually voters and readers will discover you've lost that Downy fresh scent.)
Anyway, it looks very much like Gordon Brown will be the next prime minister, good news for hair stylists everywhere, as that unruly mop could surely use some £400 haircuts, but more importantly, good news for poodle lovers, as the poor maligned poodle will no longer be the go-to dog when appropriate analogies are needed to describe the Bush/Blair relationship.
I'm not sure what kind of dog Gordon Brown will be to Bush, in fact I don't think he'll be dog-like at all. Maybe he'll be more like a cat, content to let America chase after its own tail in Iraq while secretly plotting its economic downfall.
I'm not sure but what George and Dick ought to think seriously about invading Britain. I mean, how else will American tourists be able to afford this place?
Turn the Square Mile into the Green Zone; that'll put an end to the $2 pound.
