In its latest scoop on #10 Downing Street, the Sunday Times of London intercepted the following letter on its way from Washington D.C. to the heart of power in the U.K.:
Office of Prime Minister Tony Blair
#10 Downing Street
I'm have an absolutely smashing time on my Amerian internship. Congressman Dreier is absolutely the bees knees! He even took me to a real life congressional hangout -- he said it was just toppers, and he was right. It was a bit strange that only blokes frequent the place, but no matter -- some of them were dressed like girls, so I suppose it's all liver and beans in the end ...
Representative Dreier tells me I fit right in Capitol Hill -- called me a right young Republican, he did. He said my conservative dark suit and tie, and my clean cut appearance made me very appealing to him -- said it made me look masculine, yet boyish -- even commented on my creamy skin -- dunno why he focused on that... and my soft hands and perfumy smelling hair... That David -- he said I could call him David -- sure is a capitol bloke (hey, that was a bit of a joke, yeah?)
He's so nice to me, he even offered to give me a massage after we'd had a particularly tough day, dealing with the Democrats on the rules committee. He went so far out of his way, I thought he'd never stop rubbing! Made a bit of a noise whilst he was at it, but no matter... They're so nasty to him, those Democrats: kept calling him 'Mrs. Schwarzenegger' behind his back and playing the wedding march whenever he and I leave a room. I must say, despite what they say about Americans, I have to admit to being absolutely gobsmacked by the rudeness over here. They may not have prime minister's question time (David said President Bush would have an aneurism if he had to actually answer lawmakers' questions in a forum like that without someone there to give him the answers...) but they sure do have a lot of rules...
For example, David says never to put my head on his shoulder in public. Says people are out to get him and they might get the wrong idea -- like that awful Michael Jackson and that cancer-stricken boy. Dunno why he thinks I might do something like that, but I try to take in every piece of advice with an open mind and without asking too many stupid questions. He also says its very important to have on proper trousers -- flat fronts are best -- and he's so nice, he even helped me adjust mine today: hand his hand on my bum for a full thirteen minutes before I insisted he shouldn't go to any bother... David also says it's always important to apply "product" before going on television chat shows. I don't know what "product" is, but he made it sound so important, I made his legislative aide, "Pat", promise to get me some the next time he -- or it could be she -- was in the mens' store. David also says, I shouldn't drink to much at the bar, or leave my drink unattended, else I might wake up face down in some old, fat queen's bed. I didn't know they had a queen over here...!
Last thing, David promised to show me the ropes -- kind of break me in over here -- before it's the Democrats' turn with me. David says it's okay that I intend to intern with the other side too, but for some reason, he says I should steer a wide berth around someone named Barney Frank. ... Dunno but he seems really competitive with this Mr. Frank over me ... calls him an absolute bollucks poacher...
Anyway, I'm really enjoying myself, dad. David and I are as chummy as you are with President Bush (though we aren't planning on blowing anything up without a legal backing, eh, guvna!!???). And I don't even mind those sniveling, Georgetown interns calling me his "poodle." He's even offered to let me stay with him while I'm here. Poor thing lives all alone with nothing but a Jack Russell terrier and more muscle shirts than I've ever seen in my life!
Well, that's all for now, dad. I'm off to something called "the bath house" with David. Imagine: an entire house dedicated to a city in dear old England! I sure hope they have "product" there -- David says I'm going to need to oil up really good before I can be a right topper like him (although he's so modest, he denies being a topper at all...)
Toodle-oo for now, father.
God bless, and God save the queen!
P.S.: I've enclosed a picture of us taken at a place called the U.S. Male (I feel like a regular part of the "old boys club" ennit, dad?!) Cheers!
David and me at "The U.S. Male"