THE PRESIDENT: Good afternoon, people of England.

Today it is my honor to appear here in London for Queen Elizabeth's Golden Jubilee celebration. Fifty years sitting on a purely symbolic throne and doing absolutely nothing - that's a lot to be commemorating. And while I normally discount England as just a dreary island of sissy-talking kidney eaters, I must say that I have come to respect the queen greatly. I mean, you gotta hand it to a broad who can do so little for so long and live so well, even if she is a bit of a stuck-up bitch. Hell, she gets to live in a castle, travel in style - and the whole shi-bang is underwritten by the blood, sweat and tears of the great unwashed. Brilliant stuff. If she wasn't a limey, I'd guess she was a Republican. (Laughter.)

You know the first time her majesty and I met, it was back when my daddy was president, and she was visiting the White House for some kind of fancy party. My brother Neil and I had been up in the family quarters huffing an 8-ball of crank, and when we came down, she introduced herself to me. I was kind of tripping out on her hair, on account of it's like a big piece of cobalt blue popcorn screwed down on her wrinkled little head, but I managed to say "hi" or "yo queeny" or something before Neil and I retreated to the bowling alley downstairs. Who ever would have guessed that just ten years later, I'd be the guest of honor at her little party here? Amazing.

Of course, as the royal families of our respective nations, the Windsors and the Bushes have a lot in common. Sure, the liberal American media would have you believe that the Kennedys are our royals, but what the hell do they know? Including me, the Bushes have had two presidents, and the Kennedys only had one - not to mention that they're a bunch of hooker-killing, Mary-worshipping, child-humping Cathylicks. Plus, my brother Jeb's going to be President come 2008, so that'll catapult us past the Adams' and Roosevelts and settle it once and for all. So anyway, as a royal myself, I know all too well the many unpleasantries and inconveniences which her majesty endures on a regular basis. Whether it's having to pretend like you care about the little people, or using every ounce of energy to keep a fake smile carved in your face while some self-important government jackass is crying to you about their little pet issue, or getting caught picking your nose in public by some scumbag photographer, sometimes it ain't easy being chosen by God to lead.

I admire the queen greatly, for all these reasons and many more. Reasons like the fact that she never has to face an election, or work, or converse with coloreds. Or that she told that useless arctic wasteland Canada to hit the road and fend for itself, but they still put her face on all their money. Or best yet - that after fifty whole years of being profoundly irrelevant, she can throw herself a billion dollar party with rock stars and fireworks, and the whole world suddenly thinks she's more than a pointless figurehead ruled by everyone around her. Hey, remind me to find out if she's available to produce my 2004 convention. (Laughter.)

In closing, I also want to thank those several hundred of you who didn't leave in protest when I climbed on stage a few minutes back. While I'm disappointed that so few Britaniacs have the sense or taste to bask in the sonic glory of my didacticism, I am nevertheless pleased that you good folks chose to remain.

Thank you all, and God save the Queen.

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