Since the policy of the federal government seems to be to snoop on the conversations of private citizens, I thought it would be appropriate if we turned the tables on them. So, I authorized my columnist commandos to infiltrate the White House disguised as Teleprompters and get the real scoop on the latest developments in Ukraine.
RING! RING! RING!
“Hi. Is Vladimir Putin in, please?”
“Speaking. And to whom do I have the pleasure of talking?”
“It’s Barack Obama, President of the United States.”
“Barry! How you doing, man?”
“It’s not Barry. It is Barack, Vladimir. I hate it when you call me Barry and, frankly, I’m pretty ticked off at you.”
“Aw, gee. I’m sorry to hear that. What have I done now?”
“What have you done? You’ve invaded Crimea. That is what you have done. You didn’t even give me the courtesy of a heads-up and now the whole world is waiting to see what I am going to do. Instead of jetting around the country doing photo-ops, I’ve got to sit here and be all presidential and stuff. I hate that.”
“Bless your heart, Barry. I feel like such a schlemiel. Will you forgive me?”
“No, I won’t. And quit calling me Barry. It is obvious you don’t respect me. I realize you were once a KGB agent. Big deal. May I remind you, Vladimir, that I was a community organizer in Chicago. You really don’t want to mess with a community organizer.”
“And to show you I mean business, I sent Vice President Joe Biden to Poland to talk to our allies.”
“Unfortunately, he ended up in Muncie, Indiana, where he told the crowd that we would protect them if they were invaded by Kentucky. Let’s face it. Joe isn’t the brightest bulb in the chandelier.”
“At least this time he didn’t tell a guy in a wheelchair to stand up and take a bow. You’ve done wonders with him, Barry. By the way, I knew you meant business when you headed off to a swanky resort in Key Largo to play golf while we were inviting ourselves into Crimea. Scared the dickens out of me.”
“Hey, Vladimir, my job isn’t all about foreign affairs. I have a domestic agenda as well. That includes getting my short game in shape. Like you wouldn’t have invaded Crimea if I sat around the Oval Office twiddling my thumbs? Admit it: You were going to invade anyway, weren’t you?”
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