Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Ahmadinejad - Religion & Obamessiah

It’s late at night in a cave just east of the Afghanistan-Pakistan border (or just west…depending on which gang of border thugs beheaded the other). Osama bin Laden and his second-in-command, Ayman al-Zawahiri, are meeting with Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, hereinafter referred to as O, A, and M, respectively.

~M: How do you live in the midst of these bat droppings…praise Allah for the sands of Persia, where there are no bats and…

~A: Hah! There are no bats in that benighted…Allah forgive this dunce…what do you mean by Persia, you silly ox? Persia…oh ha ha ha…get that Osama…Mahmoud has forgotten the name of his own…

~M (brandishing his AK-47): Keep laughing, you one-eyed Egyptian ninny-sunni and I'll…Allah forbid him the virgins…match your eyes completely…

~O: Stop it, you two…Allah be ashamed of this wrangling over nothing…

~M: Over nothing! I use the term Persia on purpose…Allah remember the glory days of Israeli blood on the sands…because it was a world power…remember the Medes and Persians. Iran is a silly name…I am a satire of glorious Persia, which will wipe the Israelis off the map for good this time…and then aim our new glorious warheads provided by Putin at the tallest buildings in New York and…

A: Oh, stuff it, you son of a camel driver's servant…Allah be not amused with this silly ass. You forget so soon, Mahmoud, it's satrap, not satire. You're still hung-up on that New Yorker cover of Obamessiah and his wife, with our glorious leader staring down at those sinners. And speaking of tall buildings, what is this event you have planned for next week in New York, where…oh ha ha ha…I still remember the ashes all over the streets seven years ago and how we laughed, Osama…Allah send all New Yorkers to where the sun never shines…

O (distracted and singing off-key): In the pines, in the pines where the sun never shines and the…

M: What are pines, Osama?

A: Osama's been listening to Radio Free Europe again to that bluegrass music…Allah be mortified. Stop it Osama…or at least learn the tune.

O: Sorry, great defenders of Mohammad and all that's sacred. Now, Mahmoud, what is this meeting all about in the tall building?

M: Oh ha ha ha…Allah be glorified…I'm to be honored by the American religious elite at the Ramadan Feast at that New York tall building, the Grand Hyatt…the place of sin owned by the finance chairman of Barack Hussein Obama's campaign for the U.S. presidency…Allah forgive me for going where they drink coffee and whiskey and the women wear gownless evening straps and…

O: Gownless evening straps, Mahmoud! I thought that was strapless evening gowns at the proms when I was in the U.S. Gownless evening straps…whew…whew…whew…

A: Osama found a copy of that decadent Playboy magazine in a bodyguard's Koran and…but praise Allah for machetes…he had the boy's hands chopped off at sunrise yesterday.

M: The World Council of Churches will be the main player…oh ha ha ha…our brothers are butchering their members all over the world…praise Allah for worldwide genocide of infidels…and I'm the featured guest at the WCC Ramadan blowout. They claim Allah and God of Abraham are the same…oh ha ha ha…they don't even know their own belief. That's what we claim.

A: Careful there, Mahmoud, the sacred Ramadan should not be called a blowout…Allah forgive this killer of Sunnis in Iraq, but not for always…it is a sacred…

M: I call it a blowout because it will be celebrated in Iraq with five glorious bombings…praise Allah for the women bombers…and in Sudan with another 100,000 women raped and…by the way, is it true that women bombers are promised 72 gigolos in Paradise?

O: Enough of this small talk, but yes, the women are being promised the gigolos. How else could they be persuaded…Allah forgive us for lying to them…but, after all, Mohammad did little girls. Genocide is nothing new, even if the pushy women are getting into the act…something called feminism by feminazis in the U.S., where no burkas are worn and not much of anything else these days…Ayman, when can we have that parley with the Rice woman in the U.S., where the burkas are replaced by bikinis, and faces and most everything else may not be covered, even on Halloween, whatever that is? Whew!!!

A: I'd like to get out of this accursed cave as much as you, Osama, but…Allah be merciful…you must curb your appetite for the obscene or…(raises arms)…put down your AK-47…I only meant a hookah with tobacco instead of poppies. (faces M) Mahmoud, will you plan a bombing for the Ramadan observance…make the blowout a blast…oh ha ha ha…send the Christians to their hell…

M: You idiot, Ayman…Allah give him at least another brain cell…of course not. You think I would blow up the goodie-two-shoes crowd with myself in their midst? Bah! I will make friends with Obama's prime money-maker, the lady who owns the palace. Barack Hussein is our choice for the presidency, of course, especially since he has already said he will parley with me without any conditions…oh ha ha ha…I will take him to the cleaners, as they say in America.

O: Do you plan to promise to shut down your nuclear stuff in exchange for Hawaii, Mahmoud…Allah look the other way…all those beaches and pretty girls…whew…whew?

A: a-a-a-r-r-r-g-g-g-h-h-h-a-a-a-r-r-g-g-h-h-A-A-A-R-R-R-G-G-H-H-H…ON TO WISCONSIN!!!!

O (firing AK-47 into wall): Shut up, you goat-bag! Forgive him, Mahmoud. As you know…Allah be ashamed of him…when he is frustrated, Ayman launches into the scream patented by the American Howard Dean in 2004.

A: Now look what you've done, Osama! The ricochets have bounced all over this accursed tomb of a cave and one of them has gone through the CD-player…so…no more Dixie Chicks and the rappers calling for all police to be killed and all sisters to become ho's and…

O: Mahmoud, when you visit with the Saudis, please get them to shower a few million shekels of the oil money they take from the Americans and send it over here to modernize this cave since it looks like we'll be here for a while. I've used all my cash but what I've deposited on Grand Caymon Island, where all the rich Americans put their money to dodge the taxes…oh ha ha ha…if I can just ever get over there there'll be a good time in the old town tonight!

A: That American music again…a-a-a-r-r-g-g…okay, okay…no more Dean scream!

And so it goes.

Jim Clark

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home