It's Not Me, It's You

This man doesn't even need an actual telephone to make calls

The following phone conversation, intercepted by MOSSAD, was released this afternoon:

Barack Obama: Yo Stevie! Stevie Wonder!

Stephen Harper: I’m sorry, who is this?

Obama: It’s Barack! Barack Attack!

Harper: Oh, yes, Mr. President. Thank you for calling. I must say, we are quite excited about you coming tomorrow. Rideau Hall is looking quite resplendent, and I myself will be wearing my most favourite of ties. It says “The Great One,” and there is a picture of 1980s-era Wayne Gretzky on it. We even have 10, 000 bilingual school children who will-

Obama: Ahh yeah… dude, I so don’t want to be a dick about this, but, man, I can’t make it!

Harper: Well that’s alright. I never cared for the school children anyway. But the rest-

Obama: No man, I can’t come at all. I am just, like… sooooo tired, you know?

Harper: Oh, I… I see. (Awkward pause) Are you sure something can’t be arranged?

Obama: Nah, sorry dude. We, uh, got this, uh, credit crunch, and subprime, like, housing market bubble… you know? And the wife is killing me! You know what I mean?

Harper: Ahh, yes. Wives can on occasion be problematic. Laureen has been acting out ever since I had her take my name.

Obama: Word to that!

Harper: Well, maybe I could come down to Washington tomorrow instead?

Obama: Oh man, I don’t think so…

Harper: Ahh. Or, okay… maybe next month, then?

Obama: Yeah, maybe, maybe. But I totally told Mexico I would go down there next month. Trust me, if I’d known about this, I would never have made plans with Mexico! Agh! I'm, like, pulling my hair out, you know? Feel like such a dick, man.

Harper: I... I see. (Another pause) Mr. President, we’ve already welded the manhole covers shut!

Obama: Dude, I totally know what you’re saying. This is so dickish of me, I know! I should have called yesterday, at least. This is so not fair of me, and I will own up to that, bro. IOU one fighter jet escort next tim… if you come down here. Writing that down right now so I won't forget. "Steven Harpo: one fighter jet escort."

Harper: Nah, no… I mean, I can quite understand. These things happen, right?

Obama: Oh yeah. Yeah, totally normal. (Pause) Alright, listen, I’ve gotta scoot, but I’ve got your number and you’ve got mine so feel free to drop a text to my celly whenever.

Harper: Could I perhaps telephone you sometime?

Obama: (Slight pause) Y… Yeah, dude, yeah. Kay, catch ya later! (Hangs up phone)

Harper: Bye Obama!