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And he used to be such a nice, quiet boy

The G20 boys night out

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Well the G20 was a huge success by all accounts. But if you want to know what really happened you had to be reading their twitter feed from about 23.00-05.00 that night.

President Obama was sat at dinner next to the leaders of Korea, Germany and Japan. Three countries his predecessors had systematically bombed to hell. If the waiter was Vietnamese the image would be complete.

Got any ketchup, Oliver?

Got any ketchup, Oliver?

Down the table the Czech premier would be drowning his awkwardness in beer, while next door the Netherlands premier went outside for a relaxing spliff.

Opposite Gordon Brown we had the premier of Saudi Arabia, who was probably bewildered, wondering which eye was real.

Brazil and Mexico probably got on well, leaving Russia with Turkey to chat to, never an easy moment, given their mutual history.

Sarkozy of France and the Spanish premier would be talking over South Africa, who was sat between them. He probably wanted to crawl over a minefield to get out of there.

On the opposite corner we have Kevin Rudd, the Aussie premier, who was probably in a blind panic, never having seen so much cutlery in his whole life. Next to him we have the king of Ethiopia, who had probably never seen so much food in his whole life, God love him.

So after dinner Brown decides to take them all into town. He has had a load of t-shirts printed, one for each of them.

On the front it says G20 Crew – What goes on tour stays on tour.

On the back it says their names. Obama – Mr Prezz. Brown – Hawkeye, France – I Only Shag Supermodels, Australia – No Worries, Ethiopia – King Rasta, and so on.

So they take a convoy of taxis into town and have a look around. Brown apologizes for all the mess, they had a bit of a riot this morning, apparently. London looked like a war zone. Broken bottles, hair, lost testicles and blood spilled over the mean streets. So where best to start but a strip bar?

I don't fancy yours much

I don't fancy yours much

Well they walk in and France isn’t impressed, He is shagging Carla Bruni so obviously none of this lot are good enough for him. He takes particular exception to the tall blonde on the door, and Brown has to explain that it is, in fact, Peter Stringfellow, the owner of the bar. Obama is busy signing the strippers tits, like a pro. He gets a two girl lap dance. Indonesia spends the next twenty minutes in the bathroom then comes out all sweaty. Brown does his trick where he stick his glass eye between the strippers tits, squishes them together then catches it in his mouth.

Insert eyeball here

Insert eyeball here

Next they get a bit hungry so they move on to a Chinese place on Old Kent Road. It is run by a cousin of the Chinese Premier, apparently. Jamie Oliver’s portions were a bit shady, so they were starving. Then while they were sat there this Chinese Elvis guy comes on stage and gives them a rousing rendition of ‘Heartblake Hotew’.

After that what can you do but move on to a sticky carpet disco, and seen how the other half lives. Mexico gets the tequila shots in, Netherlander goes down the street to score some weed. Aussie boy would definitely have taken them to Earls court, to see a proper London boozer, run, naturally by an all-Australian bar team.

So 'zis where all the sheila's are?

So 'zis where all the sheila's are?

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Written by Nick Gilmartin

April 6, 2009 at 8:02 pm

Posted in Humour, Politics

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