Interview With A Tony Blair

(Note:  Apparently Blogger has issues with the UK Labour Party.  This interview was posted a week ago but failed to show.  Oh Blogger, why art thou a Tory?)

As promised a while ago now (look crack cake addiction is a full time job) we promised an exclusive meet and greet with the former UK Prime Minister, and other half to George W’s Bromance, Tony Blair.  Our political correspondent (and said crack cake whore) Minga, visited Mr Blair over two weeks during his whirlwind tour of the Middle East, as…Envoy to the Middle East.   

COFFEE

It’s unreasonably hot when I get into Dubai.  The dry air, the temperature soaring and wearing a full body suit made of llama fur was probably not the best idea.  I am ushered into a shiny black limousine straight from 1985 by a hairy cousin.  We drive fast.  I need to pee.

Arriving at some swank hotel café/bistro, there are patrons spilling out.  I am again ushered to a locked velvet room.  I buy my grade-A pure saffron for my mum.  I am ushered out again to the back.

There's a good looking male sitting in the garden, wrapped in about nine black sweaters and wearing a wool hat, smoking cigarettes, sipping a latte the size of his head, and furiously making notes on a script in the dry heat (I'm channelling/plagerising Details magazine).  My llama and I walk over and sit and smile lovingly.

"You still owe me that sponge bath and pack of fags”

Robert Pattinson looks at me rather disturbed.

Before I have a chance to gain a good grope, an older gentleman, dressed head to toe in Armani and a hairline receding for its life, comes over and shakes my hand.

“Hi, I’m Tony Blair”.  He smiles that infamous Mad Hatter on crack smile and I grudgingly get up and follow him, leaving Cedric Diggery and my fags.  Damn it.  I hate my job.

 

SHISHA

Charismatic; Informal; War-Monger; feral beast; Creepy; That Gimp Who Looks Like Michael Sheen; Those are just some of the adjectives the media has bestowed upon the UK Labour party’s longest serving Prime Minister.  Despite this, Blair’s face is constantly busy, creepy yes, but always thinking.

We sit on the velvet chaise in his Presidential suite as George W Bush sits in the corner playing Wii tennis.  He’s obviously losing as he continually yells obscenities to the TV in broken Spanish. 

Blair pours me some tea (no milk, I’m Persian and that’s how we roll) and lights up the gigantic purple shisha in front of him.  He inhales deeply as his face shows a man full of contradictions.

Still being high from the crack cakes I don’t waste time on chit chat. 

“So Tony, do you find it rather ironic that after bombing the crap outta two Middle Eastern countries, you were made the official Envoy of the Quartet on the Middle East?”

He pauses, his face contorting into that infamous Cheshire (yawn) grin and he blinks furiously.

“Well was it was ironic that after getting the Nobel Peace prize, Obama bombed the Moon?”  He finally exhales.

“Yes.  But at least no one lives there.”

Point: Minga. 

“Well I don’t get paid for being an Envoy”

Point: Blair

“But you ask for a quarter of a million dollars to do one speech.”

Check: Minga

“Yeah only Yanks though innit?”  He smiles.

Game set and match: Blair.  Damn it.

  [With W.  In happier times] 

 

Suddenly ol’ W yells from his corner, “Yo Blair!  Where’s my chai latte?” to which Blair just rolls his brown (or blue or green or whatever) eyes and turns to Bush and yells,

“What did I tell you?  This is Tony’s time!  Tony has to work, so make your own damn chump coffee!”

He sits back around, the anger slowly draining the red from his flushed face.  I look over to poor ol’ W who pouts and sits sullen in his couch.  He puts on Grand Theft Auto.

Could it be?  This is the finale to the world’s most famous Bromance?

Blair thinks so.  He talks about the good times and bad, and being BFF’s with one of the world’s most hated world leaders. 

“Sometimes there comes a point in every friendship when you just have to say, I never liked you, get lost”.  He contemplates, blowing out shisha smoke in the shape of a broken heart.

I look over to W.  He stares at me like one stares at a fish before gutting it.  I’m guessing W didn’t take that too well.

“Maybe I’ll miss him.  Just a little” Blair says as he looks over to W.  He rubs his palm on his heart and points it to W.

I hold back the vomit as I finish off the shisha.

Stay tuned for Part II: Cigarettes and Shisha Overdose, where we talk butch wives, Blair’s faith and Minga’s guilty pleasure – the  Foreign Secretary.  

The Proust Questionaire: Adolf Hitler

French writer Marcel Proust popularised personality questionaires in the 19th Century and now they're all the rage, from that goober Lipton in the Actor's Studio, to the back pages of Vanity Fair.  Here at Sandwich, we've taken it to the next level and asked Monsieur Hitler to take the plunge into his inner self...

What is your idea of perfect happiness?
Playing with my dog Blondi, invading countries, killing innocents and singing songs from Cabaret when no one’s watching.  I adore Liza. 

What is your greatest fear?
Invalids, homos, Commies, Gypsies and Jews. 

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
 Being too generous.  And having syphilis. 

What is the trait you most deplore in others?
Being too invalid, homo, Commie, gypsy and Jewish. 

Which living person do you most admire?
Goebbels – sex on a stick. 

What is your greatest extravagance?
1936 Olympic Games and La Mer beauty products for my skin – smooth like an (Aryan, Protestant, German) babies bottom! 

What is your current state of mind?
Passive aggressive. 

What is the quality you most like in a man?
Dedication, loyalty, soft hands and dreamy eyes, i.e. Goebbels. 

What is the quality you most like in a woman?
Suicidal. 

Which words or phrases do you most overuse?
Heil Myself. 

When and where were you happiest?
When I kicked Bonaparte’s arse by winning World’s Next Top Dictator.  I’m so humbled. 

Who are your favorite writers?
The Passing of the Great Race by Madison Grant and Paradise Lost by Milton.  I am also an avid fan of The Twilight Saga – Team Jacob forever! 

Which talent would you most like to have?
Does fascism count as a talent?  Because I could win gold medals in that one – right Napoleon? 

                                                   [With Goebbels in happier times]

 Who is your favorite hero of fiction?
Dr Faustus. 

Who are your heroes in real life?
Goebbels.  BFF’s for life.  A real life Ennis and Jake… 

What do you consider your greatest achievement?
Invading Poland and growing this spectacular ‘tache! 

Where would you like to live?
Deutschland, of course.  And possibly Vichy in the South of France – I’ve heard the women there are easy. 

What is your most treasured possession?
My framed Time cover Man of the Year (suck on it Bonaparte) and my signed corset taken from Liza Minneli’s dressing room.  I like to wear it when hoovering.  (Vacuuming) 

What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
Being rejected from art school – TWICE.  That was very emotionally scarring, especially for such a fragile artist like me. 

What do you most value in your friends?
Friends are stupid and take things too personally when you break supposed non-aggression pacts.  Stalin, I’m looking at you, you big Nancy. 

What are your favorite names?
Hans, Joseph and Goebbels. 

What is it that you most dislike?
Cruelty to animals.  We should all applaud organizations like PETA. 

What is your greatest regret?
Going to the premiere of Schindler’s List – God that was awkward.  

How would you like to die?
I feel the word ‘like’ should be omitted from this question. 

What is your motto?
Ich leibe dich, Goebbels.*

Signed: 


*We are, of course, not condemning our poor homos by suggesting that one of the most ‘evil’ men in history swung their way.  But this guy is.

 If you'd like to bestow your own greatness upon the Proust Questionaire universe, present your own answers here.

Cover Story - Fatty the 8th

Obama, Me and the Nobel Peace Prize - Unrequited Love?

In case you have been too busy wondering whether or not the awesomely named Tiger Woods' sexual affairs will go into triple digits, you may have failed to know about the other big news that has taken the international media by storm: US President Barack Hussein Obama was controversially awarded the prestigious Nobel Peace Prize award. 

Now as usual, there's been a whole lotta hoopla around the decision to award someone who had only been in office for two weeks before winning and who allegedly hasn't achieved much to receive such an accolade.   The committee who has awarded the same gong to such legends as Mother Teresa, The Red Cross and Nelson Mandela, defended their arguments in that they were awarding Obama on what he will achieve as opposed to what he's already not done.  Hmmm, remember what they say about assumptions?

So Sandwich political correspondent Minga, decided to head over to Norway to interview the man in question about these divided opinions. 

With respect to keeping it ethnic, Minga also invited her man Mahatma Gandhi (the bald dude who led India to independence from the Poms) and Dr Martin Luther King Jnr (the dude who led the Civil Rights Movement against the haters and crackers in the US).

The three of us sit in a plush, highly secured hotel suite in Oslo, sipping tea and eating vegan crack cakes.

Minga:  Senor Obama, do you think it rather ironic that after you won a prize for peace, you bombed the moon?  I mean honestly, were you on crack?  What did the moon do to you?  Is there an inter-galactic Al-Qaeda Martian cell that we don't know about?  Did the Moon take you out, tell you it loved you then never called?

Obama:  Look, negotiations cannot convince al Qaeda's leaders to lay down their arms. To say that force is sometimes necessary is not a call to cynicism -- it is a recognition of history; the imperfections of man and the limits of reason.  

Gandhi:  You bombed the moon?

Martin Luther King Jnr:  This was not the dream I had intended...

M:  Ok, let's move onto your speech.  Why did you continually try to justify war in your speech regarding the PEACE prize you were awarded?  Are you like one of those guys who tries to justify that it doesn't count as cheating if you never told the girl you were in a relationship?  That it doesn't count as cheating if they were in a different country/drunk/a celebrity?  Because that's kinda desperate and douchy. 

BIG O:  Look I was trying to acknowledge the controversy surrounding the committee's decision.  I'm a big follower of the two gentlemen here, but I cannot follow their examples only. 
DRMLKJ:  Violence never brings permanent peace. It solves no social problem: it merely creates new and more complicated ones.

O:  I totally said that in my speech.

 

M:  So who do you think will win it next year?  The state of Israel?  More importantly how do you think we can achieve peace, Mr Peacemaker?

 O (bi Wan Kenobi):  First, [we must] deal with those nations that break rules and laws...

M:  So the US will finally join the World Court?

O:  No, but...one urgent example is the effort to prevent the spread of nuclear weapons, and to seek a world without them.

M:  So the US will disband their 5,500 nuclear arsenals?

[awkward pause]
 O:  I am working with President Medvedev to reduce America and Russia's nuclear stockpiles.

M:  Ok, that's a start.

O:  But it is also incumbent upon all of us to insist that nations like Iran and North Korea do not game the system...those who seek peace cannot stand idly by as nations arm themselves for nuclear war. 

M:  Dude, four syllables: Hi-ro-shi-ma. 

O:  Alright I'll give you that one.
M:  Na-ga-sa-ki?
O:  I give up. 
[Then he flashes me one of those infamous charming smiles and the hypocrisies are quickly forgotten] 

M:  So Mr Gandhi Sir, are you super pissed off that you were never awarded this prize despite the fact that your whole movement against imperialism was about PEACE and NON-VIOLENCE?  Yet goobers like the Quakers got one?

Gandhi:  I have learned through bitter experience the one supreme lesson to conserve my anger, and as heat conserved is transmuted into energy, even so our anger controlled can be transmuted into a power which can move the world. 
DRMLKJ:  Considering a lot of my inspiration for a non-violent resistance came from you Mr Gandhi, I too agree with the Minga one.  You was robbed son.

Minga:  So if we get angry and violent we can change the world?

(HO) Bama:  I told you.

M:  Speaking of dreams, Dr King, I had this weirdass one where I was running around like mad trying to find a sweater for the dude out of Twilight.  Then he got really mad when I couldn't find one and he became a T-Rex and chased me.

[pause]

MLK:  Is there a question?

M:  No but what of a waste of dream huh?

G:  Fear has its use, but cowardice has none.
O:  I had this dream last night too...

M:  No one cares, War-monger.

And with that, the four of us hug intimately and exchange Facebook details.

*The majority of Obama and Gandhi quotes are real.  We just took them out of context...slightly.  You can find his speech here.

Dictation: Interview with A Hot Dictator

Charming, laid-back, drop-dead gorgeous and anything but a tyrant. Ginga meets Napoléon Bonaparte, the World’s Top Dictator contestant who showed the most flair.


The ‘80s fashion revival works way best on those born in the 1780s. With his taut body shape and soft brown eyes, Napoléon Bonaparte is a dream in his tight white pants and tailored jacket with shoulder pads. Though he describes himself as something of a ‘goofeyball’, and watching him on our shoot, pumping his fist in the air to Bruce Springsteen’s Born To Run testifies to this, he is quite possibly the most elegant person in the room. “People they ask me where I buy my jacket, my shoes, my hat”, says the Corsican, who’s often approached on the street, mostly by starstruck teenage girls. “And common thing that young girl say me is, ‘Ohhh...you’re not that short’. And do you know what I say them? I say ‘oh and you are not that ugly mademoiselle. And I don’t care who you are and where you are from...as long as you love me’ ”. The overall impression you get from Napoléon is of originality, old-world charm and understated eloquence.