DIVORCE ITALIAN STYLE

Italian prime minister Silvio Berlusconi and French president Nicholas Sarkozy are sitting at the bar of the Hotel Georges V in Paris, staring glumly into their drinks.

Berlusconi – Women!

Sarko – I know what you mean…

Berlusconi – My wife Veronica is suing me for a divorce.

Sarko – I heard.

Berlusconi – I mean, she can’t do anything. I own all the judges.

Sarko – Naturally.

Berlusconi – But still, she’s complaining to all the newspapers, calling me a philanderer, accusing me of dating children.
First of all, none of these women she’s accusing me of is a minor. Mamma mia, no child ever looked like that, with their big tits and asses! Only an idiot could mistake them for children.

Sarko – You don’t have to tell me! My wife Carla’s Italian.

Berlusconi – Exactly. But in a sense, being the prime minister of Italy, I’m obliged to take a paternal interest in all my citizens. All Italians are children.

Sarko – Well, look what Malraux wrote: “There is no such thing as an adult person.”

Berlusconi – In a sense, I am actually furthering the cause of women’s liberation. I want to promote their future in politics. My idea is to nominate a whole group of beautiful women to run for my party in the next election. [nudges Sarkozy] Can you see that? A whole gang of beautiful dolls running against those dumb-ass professors and intellectuals of the left! Who would you vote for?

Sarko – Oh, it’s a foregone conclusion.

Berlusconi – My concept is to turn Italian politics into a beauty pageant with an orchestra and a master of ceremonies. You know, that’s how I got my start, as a singer on cruise ships. I can still sing. How about this:
O sole mio…

Sarko – You still got what it takes.

Berlusconi – I’ll say! But my wife! What more could any woman possibly want out of life? She has jewels, furs, palaces, jet planes! Any woman would be thrilled!

Sarko – They’re never happy. Look at my ex, Cécilia. I had to chase her all the way to New York, and no sooner had I gotten her home that she ran away again. French women, they’re like cats. Leave the door open even for a second and they’re out of the house.

Berlusconi – But you know what my wife told the reporters? That I never attended my kids’ birthday parties.
Birthday parties! I bought them a whole sports stadium and a champion football team. If they want to have a birthday party they can have it on one of my yachts and invite 500 of their friends. Oh please, birthday parties! She’ll do anything to damage me.

Sarko – You think you have problems? Somebody broke into the apartment of my wife’s ex-boyfriend in Paris and stole a whole carton of pornographic photos he took of her while they were living together.

Berlusconi – Oh no!

Sarko – Yes. And these are not just artistic nude shots. What I’m talking about is hardcore pornography of her sucking cocks and taking it up the arse.
Not that I care! In France that’s normal behavior. Nevertheless, it could be inconvenient if those photos started appearing right before an election.

Berlusconi – Anyway, here’s Barack Obama. Let’s see what he has to say.

Obama – Hi, guys! I can’t stay long. I promised Michelle I’d get back to the embassy in time to read the kids some bedtime stories.

Sarko – What are you drinking?

Obama – Oh, just some mineral water. I have to get up early so I can work out before the NATO conference.
But never mind that. [lights a joint and passes it around] Take a hit off this. It’s medical marijuana.

Sarko – Ffffftttt! Très bon.

Berlusconi – Bene! Bene! Where do you get such good weed?

Obama – Are you kidding? I’m from Chicago.

Berlusconi – We were just discussing women. How do you control your wife?

Obama – Very simple. I just do everything she tells me.

Berlusconi – What?

Obama – You got a better idea?

Sarko – That’s totally unacceptable.

Obama – What do you want me to do? I got her and her mother blasting me in stereo.

Berlusconi – Her mother?!!

Obama – Yeah, she lives with us in the White House.

Sarko – I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Do you mean to tell us that you’re the President of the United States and you’re being pushed around by your wife and her mother right in the White House?

Berlusconi – No wonder the Americans are losing ground…

Obama – Look, it’s not so bad. When it gets too loud, I just go out on the White House lawn and sit on the kids’ swings and take a coupla’ hits off a joint. Then I shoot some hoops until Michelle tells me it’s time to come in.

Sarko – Thank God Napoleon is not around to hear this. He would spin around in his tomb. [crosses himself]

Berlusconi – Stop that! Everybody knows you’re Jewish.

Obama – Look I know what you guys are thinking. But with all the problems I got, with the automobile industry, the banks and the economy – the last thing I need is more aggravation when I go home at night.

Sarko – Have you always let women push you around like that?

Obama – I wouldn’t know. Michelle was my first girlfriend.

Berlusconi – You married your first girlfriend?

Obama – Well, sure. We started having sex, so we had to get married.

Sarko – I’m astounded.

Berlusconi – You know, I’m starting to get a clearer picture of what’s going on here. The reason our wives are behaving like lunatics is because they see American women behaving totally out of control, so they figure they’ll do the same thing here. It’s the bloody television shows from America.

Sarko – Do you realize what you’re doing to us?!!

Obama – Who, me?

Berlusconi – Yeah. Go back to your country and take your narcotics with you. Bartender, another whiskey!

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Posted on 5/3/2009 ( Permanent Link )
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