Call me Mr. President

President George W. Bush, President George H. Bush, President William Jefferson Clinton, President Gerald Ford, and Me - what do we all have in common?

We are all members of an elite club - not just leaders of the free world but honorary leaders of the Presidents Cup - that most prestigious international golf tournament. The burden of history rested on my broad shoulders as I officially opened the competition at the Royal Montreal Golf Club on Wednesday. I thought of all the great Presidents who had gone before me and it brought tears to my eyes.

It is a life-long dream come true to be a member of the elect Presidents club. My name will be forever linked with those other Commanders-in-Chief and etched in history as the first ever Canadian head of state to host the Presidents Cup. Not the Prime Ministers Cup or the First Ministers Cup or even the President's Cup. That's Presidents plural Cup, and now I am one of them.

I came home wearing my Presidents Cup hat and I've been walking on air and feeling extremely presidential ever since. Sandra asked me if I'd cut my hair, Laureen thought I'd lost some weight and Ben wondered if I was taller. It was just the Presidential posture, the Chief Executive aura.

In fact, that is what this country really needs - a President. Being the first minister among many degrades the head of state. You sound like just another civil servant not the supreme executive authority who deals with life and death issues every day. Liberal Quasimodo may be happy as a first minister herding his sheep by consensus but I want to lead, I was born to lead. And that's what el Presidente Steve will do.

Where does this Vancouver garbage come from?

I know I should be basking in the glory of my heart-warming speech a the high-level UN climate change conference in New York and the joy of joining the Awesome Polluters Partnership but some evil corporate clowns rained on my parade.

However another travesty has me tied up in knots right now -- some wacko-fringe commie-freak in Vancouver has written a God-forsaken article comparing my good friend Thomas D'Aquino to the Grand Ayatollah of Iran. How could such outrageous, blasphemous, slanderous, insane mutterings of a conspiracy theorist gone totally fucking bonkers get published? Only because it's Vancouver, land of the lunatic left fringe where I could only sneak in a Conservative MP by bald-faced bribery.

Hasn't Vancouver done enough already to destroy the reputation of this great country by being the birthplace of Greenpeace, terrorizing the US with their narco-freak BC Bud, and breeding criminal drug addicts by giving out free needles, free drugs and a government-subsidized shooting gallery? And instead of learning the lesson that coddling criminals creates more crime, they're whining and demanding more exemptions from the criminal code so they can give the pushers and crackheads an even freer ride.

Some people will say the pea-brained La-la-land pundit is only using ironic grandstanding to make a point and it's better to ignore him. I say he's our own little Ahmadinejad so let's clap him in leg shackles and see how he likes that irony. Its a free country but that does not include the freedom to spout hateful anti-capitalist propaganda.

Anyway, the point is that Thomas is a good Christian and a great Canadian who has done tireless service to this country for more than 20 years. To call him an Ayatollah is a grotesque and blasphemous slur. Tom is patriot and who loves Canada so much that he wants it to be part of the US. We're not losing a country, we're gaining a superpower, as he explained to me.

D'Aquino is righteously famous for his Sermon on the Montroyal which is credited with converting the apostate Mulroney to the one true religion of Miltonian Free Trade. Thomas has since become Canada's cherished Clergyman of Corporate Capitalism and an enthusiatic Rector of Economic Rationalisation but that doesn't give anyone the right to take his name in vain.

Thomas is a prophetic Preacher of Privatisation and the divine Deacon of Deindustrialisation so to compare him to the murderous mullahs of Tehran is an immoral crime against nature, akin to the other sinful sodomite lifestyle Vancouver is infamous for.

The beneficence that D'Aquino has bestowed on our country knows no bounds, he is the Dean of Downsizing, Reverend of Reverse capital flows, Tsar of Trickle-down, Friar of Free market fundamentalism, Thomas More of Tax Cuts, Prelate of Poor-bashing, Bishop of Budget cuts, Richelieu of Rich get richer, and most importantly, the esteemed Reverend of Reaganomics.

Thomas knows that all saints are persecuted in life before being worshiped in death so he bears the slings and arrows with a profound aquinimity. Not to doubt him, but I say why turn the other cheek when you can have an eye for an eye. So lets cut the scaberous writing hand off this viperous scribe that spews such vile filth.

Who let the dorks out?

It's not bad enough that the two dildos - Liberal Quasimodo and Bloc Cheezehead - are gunning for me on Afghanistan and enviro-freaks are crawling up my ass about funding cuts to Migratory birds. What can I say, if birds choose to migrate out of Canada they are not my problem.

Now some so-called corporate leaders who are supposed to be on my team are shooting me in the back over Kyoto. Just who are these business bozos on the National Roundtable on the Environment and Economy that give our fantastic new climate change plan a failing grade on nine out of nine programs.

The dumb-ass eco-terrorist loving journalists may call them the "federal government's own environmental advisory body" but I can assure you they have nothing to do with my New Government of Canada. They're a bunch of Liberal chair-warmers and know-nothing busybodies who wouldn't recognize a sound economic policy if it gave them a lapdance.

We appointed Dave McLaughlin as President (or would that be Knight) of the Roundtable last month to avert this disaster and herd the howling cats in a different direction. Dave had been a good yes-man at Finance after doing some backroom ballbusting for Bernard in New Brunswick and heavy arm-twisting for big pharma at Veritas.

But the Roundtable was too much of a certified clown show for Dave to turn it around fast enough. The Liberal bootlickers were determined to pay back their political masters who had given them the cushy gig - so they piss all over our innovative voluntary plan for dealing with the grave public relations issue of global warming. So, Big Baird had to bury the report in a late Friday afternoon press release after all the media had dozed off in their chairs or headed out early for the bars.

I couldn't go anywhere near that dog turd report because I'm about to do another turn on the global stage extolling our Made in Canada approach to climate change (okay, so the label inside says Made in USA but at least it's not Made in China). I can almost taste the warmth and applause coming from the room full of CEOs and world statesmen.

The last thing I need is a bunch of trust-fund-endowed, neo-hippy "management consultants" spouting off that my gold-plated global warming plan uses double-accounting of reductions and other shady methods. Puhleaze -- this coming from an expense-account-padding, double-dipping dork whose only business background is that your father made a lot of money in shopping malls or used cars. I have a fucking Masters in Economics specializing in Fredrich Hyek. Never heard of him? He won the Nobel prize for Economics and inspired Maggie and Ron to fight for freedom from government program tyranny, you Mercedees-driving country-club-capitalist moron.

What really sickens me about the whole putrid affair is that that some of the Roundtable goons and Judases going after us are actually senior executives of serious companies like Suncor, Alcan and Abitibi! They should be kissing my feet and blessing us for all the tax cuts and privatization fire sales they we've had dropped in their laps. Who was it that got you behind the ring of steel and into the driver seat at Montebello?

Where are the responsible corporate boards and shareholder activists? They should be forcing their executives to toe the line and support the New Conservative Government of Canada no matter what. They don't have the excuse anymore that the Liberals are in power so they have to grease their wheels. And lay off the drug-induced notion that Martin was some kind of economic guru - he only cut spending and taxes because my Reform Party was holding a gun to his head.

I think it should be a firing offense for any CEO to publicly or privately support the crypto-socialist Liberal party that wants to raise taxes and to disembowel the economy on the altar of Kyoto.

And any corporate executive who is mentally-challenged enough to donate to or vote for the commie-terrorist-loving NDP should be punished by public flogging. There is no excuse for such crimes against the economy.

God bless the New Government of Canada.

Fetching Rover for the big game

Some of the faithful are getting restless and questioning my bold strategy - woe betide them. These smarty-pants, self-declared pundits worry that I might provoke a fall election by proroguing Parliament and putting a new throne speech to a vote. These wimps think we should hang on to minority government power as long as possible by not giving any excuse for the opposition to force an election.

Hello, you scaredy-cats, who won the byelection and almost stole a second seat from Bloc Cheezehead? Why should we be satisfied with milque-toast, minority half-power when we are clearly on the march to majority house-cleaning big time, you whiny bed-wetters? The opposition wants a piece of me this fall? I say bring 'em on!

And don't think we've been resting on our well-deserved byelection laurels. We've been burning up the phone lines and getting ready to go the mattresses. The only thing missing is a campaign capo to lead the cannon fodder into battle. Tom is a great friend of mine and a trusted adviser but now that the majority brass ring is within our grasp we need to step it up to a different level.

That's why Tom, Ken and I have been working hard to get Rover up to Ottawa in time for the fall election. After all it's been three weeks since Karl's last day in Washington, so I think he has probably spent more than enough time with his family. God knows Karl must already be getting itchy about retirement if he spends his free time singing and dancing.

That's the one good thing about the White House imploding and George taking gardening leave from his agenda, there's a glut of untapped conservative GOP talent that we might be able to lure into the northern league. Peter Pan is already in discussions with Gonzo about some legal work to help us stickhandle the raghead detainees around the Geneva Convention.

Of course the Canadian league is a tough sell when the 2008 game is heating up down south - but a lot of heavy hitters are realizing it may be better to sit out the next Superbowl. Rover is the ultimate key, if we can lure him up the neo-con dream team will follow. Ken even offered Karl a cushy side gig at Hill and Knowlton where he could bat for one of his favorite teams - big pharma.

So keep the faith and dare to dream about majority power and all it entails - missile defense, ending gay marriage, and all the social programs you can kill.

God bless the New Government of Canada.

Outremont Outrage!

I think Liberal leader Quasimodo might have managed the impossible - he's made me feel sorry for him. How can he and his advisors be so inept that they could lose Outremont which has voted Liberal for 70 years.

I was actually rooting for him on Monday because if there's one thing I hate more than a smug, pointy-headed, frogophone politician who massacres the English language, squeeks like a girl and is wishy washy to the bone -- it's ANY socialist politician. When the Devilspawn leftoid NDPeeps won Outremont after all I've done for Quebec, I lost my fucking lunch, pardon my French.

This riding is full of wealthy, well-educated people who make out like bandits from my tax cuts (and the ones I forced on Paul Martin), I've one-upped the distinct society by calling the Quebecois a Nation (of losers). And yet they are still flirting with the foaming-at-the-mouth socialists - it's an outrage! The Moustache that Roared will be prancing around Ottawa in leather pants like one of the Village People, proclaiming a breakthrough and that the red army is on the march.

I just don't get frogophones - the politicians and voters will cut off their big gaulish noses despite their faces that pinch like a sphincter when they talk. They think they're so bloody superior and to prove they're more European than Anglo-Saxon they'll create a huge white-elephant welfare state they don't even want - like their collectivist nanny-state daycare.

I don't mind Quebec separatists, after all they inspired my call defacto Alberta separation if we can't get rid of the Canada Health Act and Canada Pension Plan on the national level. What really gets my goat is that so many of PQ-nises are card-carrying commie-freaks in separatist clothing like Leveque and Parizeau. What douche-bags would want to leave Canada to become a province of the Soviet Union or Cuba for freaks sake?

I do hate the whiners and snivelers who blame everything on English or Ottawa and hold the country for ransom. All my political life I fought the Chamberlainesque appeasers like Brian, and even Preston, who caved in to the extortion. Then Mulroney convinced me that the only road to 24 Sussex goes through Quebec. So I had to hold my nose and become an appeaser myself but I feel kind of dirty - like I need to shower off some Batiste parade pigeon shit.

Working with Jean and then Mario, I've finally managed to pry the frogophones from the cold dead hand of the crypto-communist PQ on the provincial level, but now they're jumping into bed with the socialists federally. Since the Outremounters were so ungrateful and stupid that they voted totalitarian-left on Monday, all bets are off. I will have to put some of that old Reform stick about and teach them a lesson in hardball politics.

We are all immigrants

There's a media tempest in a pisspot today because my New Government of Canada voted against a sacred cow of cows - the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous People. Hello journo-freaks the leaders of the free world voted with us - including the US, Australia and even socialist New Zealand.

Anyway, I already knocked this sitting duck out of the shooting gallery when some jerkoff reporter tried to bait me at APEC about the declaration. I managed to keep my cool and say that we had "reservations" (nice pun, eh) and we wouldn't support it just to be politically correct. But at least John and I had a great time trashing the abo-freaks at our Prime Ministerial dinner later that night.

In fact, I'd rather cut off my right arm and feed it to wild cannibals than sign that declaration. Flanagan says it is virtually an anti-progress manifesto - symbolic of all that's wrong with the indi-freaks and the aboriginal self-pity industry.

The declaration already had three strikes before I read a word of the sanctimonious prose - first it comes from the UN which is an self-important kindergarten full of rabid anti-American, anti-Semitic, anti-White fundamentalist commies. Second, the declaration was endorsed and co-drafted by the Liberals which means it must be a corrupt and wrong-headed. And third, there is no such thing as indigenous people - we are all immigrants - except perhaps for a few goat-herders still living in the Rift valley.

This is especially true in North America as Tom successfully argues in his book. We are all relatively recent immigrants here - sure some of the half naked savages arrived a few millennia before the rest of us, but on the scale of human history it's a rounding error. Anyway it's not like they did much to fix it up or utilize the land - it was a complete mess when we arrived from Europe to start organizing and harvesting the resources.

It's not our fault they didn't bother to create a proper civilization with defined borders and rule of law and deeded property. They preferred to remain lazy creatures of the elements without culture or government. And don't insult me and my God by calling their backward superstitions a religion - they worshiped rocks for Christ's sake.

I say they are free to live that way as long as they don't impede and interfere with the livelihood of other immigrants but don't go crying to mommy when hard-working people come along and want to make something of themselves and the wilderness you've been wasting all these years.

We Europeans may have showed-up a bit late to the party but we have invested the honest sweat of our brows and out hard-won capital to make this country almost as great as the US. In a misguided attempt at charity were even willing to help some the laggard savages who couldn't make the jump to the real world. But now they spit in our faces and call us oppressors and usurpers and demand that we hand everything over to them on a silver platter.

I say stop asking for handouts and start taking the proffered hand up to better your self and integrate yourself just like any other decent hard working immigrant family.

God bless the New Government of Canada.

A big, big day

First I had to take George aside and explain to him what country we were in and what conference we were at, then I had to personally broker the APEC climate change deal and for an encore I threw down the gauntlet on Iraq oops I mean Afghanistan. But all that didn't stop me from a driveby Liberal Quasimodo bodyslam when I nailed his lip service to global warming.

I wish George would just bite the bullet and make Dick president. As much as I admire the guy, it gets embarrassing to have to keep asking the leader of the free world questions knowing that he always responds "What do you think, Dick?" And then the veep answers "Well, I think what the President is trying to say is... blah, blah, blah."

Dick and I get along well, we could really get things done between us. We're both policy nerds, had real jobs in the oil patch and know the importance of military and energy policies that put industry in the driver's seat. I'll have to invite him lame duck hunting some time soon.

The greenhouse gas deal was a bit of a sweat - you've got the six largest emitters sitting around the table with some island nation leaders that could end up swimming to work while conference sponsors Chevron and GM are looking over your shoulder.

People were throwing around numbers, percentages, dates and targets like there was no tomorrow. So, I say, dudes we all aspire to save the planet for future generations of corporate profits so let's call the climate goals aspirational. And if we make all the targets voluntary, countries may actually reduce emissions more because they are not locked in to a specific number.

After my intervention everyone realized we could take concrete steps to do nothing and get some applause from the peanut gallery while keeping industry on board. They were like, hey sign me up. So Canada is once again a force to be reckoned with on the world stage - we can get people to agree to do nothing about an important issue like no one else.

But my favorite moment was kicking sand in the face of the anti-war wimps back home by refusing to hold a vote on Afghanistan I might lose. Pardon my French, but what's the fucking point of a democratically elected parliament if it won't vote the way I want it to. So lets just ignore the parliamentary buffoons and finish the job.

And then there's the hat, I love my new roo skin hat... don't want to take it off. Helps me get over that Viet Cong thingy.

All in all yesterday was a big, big step... toward majority government.

Time to crack some frog heads

They never knew what hit them. The double dildo tag team thought they could outsmart me by forcing a vote in parliament on Afghanistan. But I pulled the mat right out from under Quazimodo and Mr. Cheezehead. And the Mustache that Roared got hammerlocked in the bargain.

I've prorogued parliament so they won't have an audience for their petty grandstanding ploys for at least another six weeks. As a bonus all their idiotic committee amendments to our sensible and corporately-crafted legislation will be tossed out the window. As if I'm going to pass my clean air act after those opposition monkeys got their filthy paws all over it and turned it into one stinking turd of a bill.

While they are cooling their heels in Ottawa or having temper tantrums about no question period, I'll be looking presidential as I make more government spending announcements with our huge surplus and have photo ops with world leaders. That way I continue to wipe the floor with the opposition "leaders" in the polls.

Then in October they'll be so raging blind they'll bring the government down on my motherhood and apple pie throne speech. Majority here we come.

What I did on my summer vacation

Hands down my favorite moment of the summer was traveling up north to announce the new weaponized ice breakers and deep water military port.

I looked really presidential in my navy hat and wind-breaker when I announced billions in new military spending that even the peace-freaks in the opposition won't dare oppose. Thank god for Canada's Arctic - right off the bat that's $8 billion just for the patrol ships that's out of reach for money-grubbing social programs like child care and medicare.

The new ships have nice guns that will be really useful for photo-ops about protecting Canadian sovereignty. No media will dare mention they're not much use against Russian or American ships that have nuclear missiles and torpedoes.

Most importantly all the new ice breakers will have large helipads so I can fly in for a "mission accomplished" announcement as soon as the first one is built. And by then we'll have lots of freshly trained Arctic Rangers to cheer my speech.

What with global warming melting the Arctic ice and getting rid of the dangerous predators such as polar bears, there's going to be a big new northern gold and oil rush really soon. We'll be there to protect North American corporate interests from European and Russian encroachment.

And as soon as I get a majority government we can use the new northern infrastructure for George and Dick's missile defense shield.

The cabinet maker pulls the strings

People keep asking me why I don't discuss my new cabinet since I'm so fond of talking about my new government of Canada. I haven't bothered to respond because it's such an idiotic question but I guess back-to-school is a good time to teach the chattering classes a lesson in Harper 101.

First of all, in Canada only the cabinet maker matters - cabinet ministers are just political window-dressing. The PMO takes all the decisions and the ministers are just there to insulate the PM from unpopular policies or provide a photo op for announcements that aren't important enough for the PM to take the credit.

Second, cabinet ministers are extra-irrelevant in a minority government because you need to avoid parliament at all costs. There is basically no legislation for ministers to introduce and the whole focus of the government is on the regulation changes, military spending and deals like the SPP that you can pursue until you get a majority.

Finally, ministers in my New government of Canada are just puppets mouthing the words I write for them. I don't trust any of them to think or speak for themselves - especially not world-class imbeciles like Peter Pan. That douchebag has never met a flip he couldn't flop. Defense is not a vote of confidence, it's a chance for him to prove what a colossal moron he is - insurance in case the party gets the crazy idea of holding a leadership review.

Because every once in a while one of the thick-skulled cabinet marionettes gets the bright idea they can operate without any strings. They may even convince some brainless colleagues and party officials that the puppet master is losing his touch and the lunatics should be running the asylum. The inevitable result is a disaster of pinocchioesque proportions. That's why I keep my cast dancing on strings tight enough to choke them into submission but not quite enough to strangle them.

A cabinet shuffle is like a minor change of stage scenery to keep my puppet show looking fresh. A couple of pieces of french toast flipped into the Quebec byelections, a tip of the hat to the oil patch, a puff of wind to blow away the smell from the reservations. Nothing more.