George, meet Barry. Now sod off.
Don't let the Whitehouse door hit you in the arse on the way out. On the other hand, I hope someone jams your pinky finger in it. And smacks you in the nuts with an army boot. But, seriously, now that he's gone, I guess we can't rag on Dubya anymore. Sure, he's given the world enough material (both unintentionally comedic, in a painful, Ricky-Gervais/Steve Carell-in-The-Office kind of way as well as just plain tragic) to last the next 8 years, but have pity - he's unemployed now. He's likely to stay that way too - given his oratory skills it's doubtful he'll be able to make a living on the lucrative public-speaking circuit like his silver-tongued predecessor Bubba Clinton. But hey, there's always Pop to turn to. Hell, who do you think got him his last job? And the one before that? Oh well, he's got plenty of time to work on his golf game - and no pesky-ass reporters asking him about boring shit like wars or deficits or hurricanes or drowned cities.