It may just be the insanely late hour, but I came across this picture and it, to me, it begs to be captioned.
President Putin meets with Prime Minister Blair.
Well? I may try and come up with something when I’m, you know, awake.
<sigh> Tony, Tony, Tony.
“Wouldn’t it be a great time to perfect my telekinetic powers and loosen that chandalier?”
“Security camera hidden in the air conditioning duct, eh? How twentieth-century of you.”
“Ha! In Soviet Russia, stripy tie wears You!”
Jeez, I’ve got to piss like a British racehorse.
Tony: Oh, great. That lady behind us just SBD’d.
Vladimir: Yea, right. What was that mysterious smell during the meeting yesterday when it was just you and me in the room, huh?
“Oh, Tony Darling! Catch me, for I am about to faint!”
“And I thought that I wouldn’t have to hear any more Iraq ‘success’ stories after meeting with Bush.”
“Another ‘pootin’ joke–how original!”
This is his idea of a short meet and greet? Bozhemoi!
<sigh> I suppose it’s time for me to sacrifice another “rogue” Russian general to this prancing fop and his MI-6 goons… Before I’m up to my arm pits in double-O agents like in Afghanistan in the 80’s.
This building? Is gift?
Very good, Tony: six plus four is ten! Now, how much is four plus three?
The photo changed! D:
Well, it sure is a good thing I saved it then.
Indeed it is. This new one is way too easy.
Awfully sorry. This is apartment 8. We use hexdecimal here. Dreadful business, that.
Oooow. You win.
Okay, now the Indian Leg Wrestle.
<nitpick>I think you mean 16.</nitpick>