Blog Name: Up Yours, Pal!

Holy Hell-shit, I can NOT believe that sonofabitch won. What the fuck is this world coming to? I work my ass off for years, sorting out Iraq, Israel, even those commie queers in Europe, and what do I get in return? My man gets the finger while some jerk who don't even have a proper American name gets all the fucking votes!

Well, screw the lot of them. I'm retiring from all this shit and starting a new life as a preacher. I was visited by God in my dreams and he said to me, “George, you have brought so many people so much peace and happiness, and justice and the American Way, now you must go out and preach your wisdom to the people.”

I was so moved I bought me a bible, but I haven't gotten around to reading it just yet, but then who gives a fuck, when you're preaching you just make stuff up. I also just bought me a church on the Las Vegas Strip. I got big plans. I got a dozen dancing girls, a few hundred slots and a baptismal font. I got a stage where I can get people up and heal them. I got a franchise from Burger King for the catering. Fuck Washington, I can make more in a month in Vegas than I would have in a year of office.

Still, it pains me to see this Great Country of Ours brought down by evil men. I seen them, parading themselves on the TV, the commies and the faggots, lining up to vote democrat (hell, they ain't even worth a capital letter). That Obama, he's a sly one. Already he's trying to destroy this great Country of Ours, just a little bit at a time. For instance, every time he comes to a conference in the White House, he fixes it so that the conference room gets moved. Last time, that tricky SOB put it in the john.

God, he told me that there'll be a reckoning, and that's when the democrats will all go to Hell and get a pitchfork up the ass, though I guess the faggots will be looking forward to that. Everyone else, the good and the pure, will be lifted up to Heaven, which I reckon looks pretty much like Vegas, only with bigger neons.

Anyway, better keep this anonymous, at least until I got my stuff out of the White House – mental note, don't forget the poster of Arnie, Laura likes to keep that one by the bed.

Blog name: Long and Winding Road

Just had another meeting with George. He was late as usual, this time he got lost trying to find the conference room and ended up in the john. According to his aide, he spent a good ten minutes demanding to know why the conference room had been redecorated in white tiles and chrome. He did, apparently, approve of the paper dispensers next to the seats. He thought they'd be useful for taking quick notes.

Well, we discussed the economy again. He keeps telling me that all the books, all the accounts are open to me and my team for perusal, any time we like. Then he just clapped a hand over his face and sniggered, while Secretary Paulson went pink, started humming “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” and looked out of the window.

I guess the full story on the economy will have to wait until the new year. Meantime, I've been touring the presidential suite here in the White House. I've already asked that the signed poster of Governor Schwarzenegger be removed. I have no objection to the man personally, but my kids were asking awkward questions about why he was stripped to the waist and covered in baby lotion. George has a few mementos from his service career which also have to go, especially the Texas Air National Guard certificates, some of which still haven't been colored in.

All in all though, the place looks pretty comfortable and I guess Michelle and I will settle down OK. I tried out the big chair in the Oval Office and I even had a quick peek at the Big Red Button. I have to give George credit for one thing, he wasn't dumb enough to press it 'just to see what happens'. Although having said that, someone has drawn a couple of eyes above it and a smiley mouth underneath, with the caption “Room Service”. Hey, I can take a joke. I know it wasn't George anyway. He still can't do that joined up writing.

Anyway, I guess this blog had better stay anonymous, otherwise the Republicans will be on my tail and the first thing you learn in politics is to keep that area of your person covered up tighter than the grin on Sarah Palin's face on election night.

Blog Name: Last Man Standing

Not long to go now. Soon the votes will be counted - and verified, of course - and then I shall be crowned the rightful winner of this long, arduous contest.

I have the advantage, being the BBC's top political commentator, of having learned from the masters of the world stage. Nod, smile, kiss babies - ooh, that was quite disconcerting the first time I had to do it, it was like looking in a mirror! And naturally I have my piece of young, female eye-candy draped over my arm to distract the less discerning viewers from my complete lack of any sort of skill or competency. At least there's no danger of her opening her mouth in public and giving the game away: nobody watches BBC2 anyway, as I've learned the hard way.

Not that the outcome is up to the viewers, haha. Goodness me no, that's just another element of this smoke-and-mirrors affair that's been pinched from the political arena. No, the real power lies with just a small elite: as usual, it's not what you know but who you know - and I do mean "know" in the Biblical sense. I've already slept my way this far with Arlene, Craig, and Len; that just leaves Bruno. God, I hope he hasn't been eating garlic! Bellissimo indeed!

Thank God this blog's anonymous. If this gets out I could be out on my ear like Russell, Jonathon and Jeremy and I don't mean Paxman!