Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, psycho Ill Kim’s brother from another mother, is at it again, telling whoppers even bigger than SubZero would dare to declare.
The Iranian president’s threat to reveal a harsh blow to the West on Feb. 11 has world leaders getting their panties all in a wad, even those of the great anti-American pacifist pResident SubZero. I’m terrified of this pixy, too. After all he might try to sprinkle stupid dust on everyone.
While exploring my fear I was able to uncover good intelligence and determine several possible blows Mahmoud might carry out that day:
He might launch missiles capable of reaching as far as the outskirts of Tehran.
He might unleash a plague of goats on the Earth.
He might accuse us of … the nerve of him! … causing global warming.
He might declare that he is not homosexual; he just prefers sex with clean men rather than dirty women.
He might call Obama racist.
He might declare Iran a constitutional republic, release all jailed dissidents, and lock himself up for having a nose that’s probably bigger than his penis.
He might tell the world that his favorite breakfast cereal is Fruit Loops, doused with a healthy dose of liquid Prozac.
He might declare that the United States doesn’t exist and never did exist, and that any claim the U.S. can squash him like a bug (if we had a pResident who didn’t need to ask his wife if he could take his balls with him to play war with the guys for the weekend) is a fabricated Zionist plot to destroy Islam.
He might grab his crouch and do the moonwalk.
He might announce he’s scheduling a fashion show to release his new line of underwear bombs.
He might threaten to hold himself hostage if Iran can’t have nukes.