Tuesday, September 27, 2005

Texans are "living like cavemen" so ...

to avoid eating nails, I think I must laugh. You see, if I say "a little wind and a little rain", everything goes red and I see bright orange spots. Then, I wake up 45 minutes later. Again, I need to laugh. Release those good in-dolphins.

So, if you have hit the head recently, take a gander at this masterpiece by Iowahawk. I-a-Wack-Hawk gives us a "guest commentary" by Zarqawi from Iraq. It appears that the Jihadi Supreme Leader in Iraq was not impressed by the efforts of his war-protesting allies over the weekend. In fact, the whole experience was quite deflating, sort of like letting the helium gas out of a balloon:
Have you every been at Friday prayers when somebody just totally rips a gigantic falafel gasbomb while the Imam is cursing the crusaders and Jews? That's what it was like around the TV -- total dead silence. And with every shot of another placard-waving elderly hippie moron, every pachouli drum circle, possibly even more silence. Then, when the speakers started up, so did the uncomfortable buzz.
Not fully recovered from the foregoing description, I wiped the tears from my eyes to ponder the Zarqawi consoling his would-be suicide bombers that they would not be greeted in paradise by the likes of the females attending Sunday's anti-war protest:
I don't think I'll ever forget the look of horror in that poor Jordanian kid's eyes when the camera panned across that fugly forest of hairy vegan Heathers and uberbutch Andrea Dworkin manatees. And can you blame the poor trembling kid? Holy fargin' Prophet, sometimes I swear the only thing that keeps me motivated is knowing that a restored Caliphate means these hippie bowsers are gonna have their mugs and their bankles safely shielded under a burqqa.
If you are, like me, not in the know, you can look up "bankles" in the Urban Dictionary. Wack-Hawk provides the link. Oh, the horrah.

Now, I may be softening my stance on burkas.