Thursday, November 13, 2008

Holy Shiite! Where’s Mahmoud?

Mahmoud Ahneedarealjob, now my favorite terrorist president (alas, I’m on the outs with Dubya, since he has only 10 weeks left in power), has been remarkably quiet since sending King-elect Showbama a congratulatory letter following last week’s historic election.

(I’ve obtained a copy and, in honor of national security, have decided not to publish the letter in its entirety. I will, however, share this tender moment, since I very much want Ahneedarealjob to overcome his public perception of being a third world maniacal idiot:
“Secretly, I want to have your love child and bring our two houses together, as I know in my very oh so huge heart that you do not believe in the Holocaust, either. Praise Allah, comrade!”)
It is true that Ahneedarealjob did come out (dressed as a dominatrix) in public this week to criticize America for being the beast that she is (you dirty, dirty beast, you…WHACK!):
“The Iranian nation defends its sand…and…well…its sand. Should any power stand against the Iranian nation, the Iranian people will crush it with its stinking breath and will further kiss it on the mouth…and I’ll be the first in line. Iran is the most powerful nation in the world, and when we obtain nuclear power…um…the people will settle down amid our air conditioned homes and enjoy the fine aroma of scented camel farts, because, as you know, our goal is to cool our homes through nuclear power, not build weapons. We leave that to the Infidel Invaders. Those dirty pig eaters.”
But I have it on good authority that a double was really speaking in Ahneedarealjob’s stead (in honor of his hero, Adolf Hitler, who had an appetite for body doubles…and smelly shoes). In fact, I’m told that the actual Ahneedarealjob was seen as recently as yesterday at a bar in Moscow with Russian dictator for life (in secret!) Vladimir Putin, along with a male dancer. A reliable source has informed me the tryst’s topic of discussion was manly missiles. (It’s a popular subject, in fact, on Ahneedarealjob’s own blog.)

Which is really quite appropriate. On Wednesday (while Ahneedarealjob was enjoying his Moscow tryst), Iran tested a long-range missile capable of reaching southern Europe. The missile reportedly contained enough goat dung to wipe out an entire cup of authentic Italian cappuccino. Marone!

This test, of course, has nothing to do with Iran’s alleged pursuit of nuclear weapons. As many of you know, Iran does not need to build a nuclear arsenal. If he wanted to, Ahneedarealjob can already reach Israel and knock out a cell phone tower, or maybe a Zionist news stand.

When told of the missile test, King-elect Showbama grinned madly, like he’d just won an election in which he had no prayer a year ago.

“The time for change in America has come. I have brought great hope to the air. I am the light, the Son of Man, the giver of life, the rock of Gibraltar, the Kwisatz Haderach. I will make it a top priority to sit down, face-to-face, and talk with President Ahneedarealjob. We will come to a great understanding about the human condition and our role together in new beginnings and have tea, lamb, and humus in the White House, for the future of both of our countries,” he said, still grinning madly.

“Thank you, Sarah Palin. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!” he added, grinning still. (In fact, Washington insiders tell me he no longer has any other facial expression.)

Analysts, of course, warn that Obama risks falling under Ahneedarealjob’s love spell if he writes “XOXOXO” back to him. I still don’t have a pulse on how the notoriously homophobic Iranian citizenry feel about Ahneedarealjob’s wanting to have Showbama’s love child.

But I do wonder where’s the fun in the Obamas having the Ahneedarealjobs over to the White House for tea, lamb, and humus to discuss the advance of radical Islam and middle class welfare in America. That sounds pretty damned-well boring. I’ll have to go watch NASCAR, or golf, on DirecTV when that happening occurs.

Admit it, hate him or hate him more, it’s been interesting listening to Dubya speak (well, try to) of preemptive strikes up the anus of the Axis of Evil whenever one of Ahneedarealjob’s relatives passed gas and set off our strategic missile defense system. Oh, how we’ll all miss the neocon doctrine, however misunderstood.

These are extraordinary times. And extraordinary times call for flamboyantly hoodwhinking men. And we’ve got ‘em.

I shudder to think we’re actually going to be friends with the dictator Dubya really should have gone after and chased into a rat hole in the desert.


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