Archive of posts filed under the Best of IMAO 2006 category.

In My World: Virtually Caring About Border Security

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“Good job with your first press conference,” President Bush told Tony Snow.
“Thanks. I found the best way to handle Helen Thomas was to spray her in the face with a water bottle every time she tried to speak. I figure if I keep it up, she’ll learn not to talk at all.”
“Maybe, but Ari Fleischer tried the same thing, but instead of spraying her with a water bottle, he clunked her on the head with a tire iron– and that still never took. There was one thing about your press conference I didn’t like, though, and I think that was violating our first rule.” Bush pointed to a sign on the wall.
Tony read the sign aloud. “‘No matter what, never admit it’s amnesty.'”
Bush looked at the sign. “Oh, I guess we changed the first rule. Anyway, it used to be ‘There is no crying in this administration.’ I don’t care if you barely survived cancer, Snowman; I barely survived a pretzel, and I didn’t cry… even though I really really wanted to. Anyway, it’s time to appease the base.” Bush walked over to a map of the world and whapped Mexico with a pointer. “I think the only way now is to invade Mexico.”
“Invade Mexico? Well, I guess that will be easy with troops at the border.”
“No, they’ll expect that.” Bush pointed to Guatemala. “We’ll invade from here and they’ll never see it coming.” He thought for a moment. “So now I need a plan to invade Guatemala.”
Condi stormed into the room and yanked away Bush’s pointer. “Wars are for popular Presidents. You finish the ones you have and just work on border security.”
“Ahh… border security is boring,” Bush moaned. “Well, I guess I’ll head to the border and work on the problem.” He turned to Tony. “You tell everyone I’m doing a lot about illegal immigration and not to say bad things about me because the NSA will know… but don’t admit we have an NSA spying program. Actually, deny we have an NSA.”
“Uh… I’ll come up with something to say.”
“Yes, you say–” Bush marched off. “–I do.”

Attorney General Alberto Gonzales stood by the border wearing his Sombrero of Authority and matching poncho. Next to him was some high-tech gadgetry. Bush walked over to him. “What do we have here?”
“A virtual fence,” Alberto said and handed goggles to Bush while taking a pair for himself. They both put them on, and Bush then saw in front of him a giant wall of pure concrete.
“Wow! When you wear these, it appears that we actually care about border security!” Bush exclaimed.
“All we have to do is get everyone to wear these and it’s like we really have a fence,” Alberto said. “We would also need to get Mexicans to wear these if we don’t want them all running over here while we’re admiring our virtual fence. But, if they do come in…” In the virtual world, Alberto pointed up at some butterflies flying over the fence. “–it won’t look so bad. See, those butterflies are virtual representation of illegal immigrants crossing our borders.”
“Wow! They’re almost blocking out the sky!” Bush looked down and saw a newspaper on the ground. He picked it up and read it. “Cool! In this world, my approval rating is almost 40%!”
The good news disappeared as Alberto pulled off Bush’s goggles. “I have something else to show you. If the virtual fence doesn’t work, I hired a consultant for another option.”
Standing near them was a tall, old, bearded man wearing a robe and holding a staff. “I am Gandalf the Gray,” he said, “and I shall make you a magical fence.”
“Yay!” Bush squealed. “I love magic.”
Gandalf faced some Mexicans nearing the border. Gandalf then yelled, “You cannot pass! I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the Flame of Anor! The Dark Flame will not avail you, Flame of Udun. Go back to the shadow!” Gandalf struck the ground with his staff. “You– shall– not– pass!”
A rock struck Gandalf in the head, knocking him to the ground. The Mexicans then all ran over him.
“That could have gone better,” Bush said. “Well, I guess this problem cannot be solved. Anyhoo, I’m hungry for some Mexican food. How about you, Speedy?”
“If you’re paying,” Alberto answered.
As they walked off, a thought struck Bush. “What if we made a real fence?”
Alberto slapped Bush across the back of his head. “That would lower property values, you stupid gringo!”

It’s Pat!

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Pat Robertson says God told him that storms and tidal waves will possibly hit America this year (Possibly? So God is no better than your average meteorologist?). Quote the prophet:

“If I heard the Lord right about 2006, the coasts of America will be lashed by storms.”

If you heard him right? Little tip here, Pat: When God talks, PAY ATTENTION! Don’t let your mind wander to last rerun of JAG you saw when the Almighty grants you His time. Worse comes to worse, maybe you could at least ask Him to repeat Himself if you didn’t get it the first time.
Wait, God is talking to me now…
Okay.
So right in his dumb monkey face?
Got it. Later, Dude.
Gotta go, people; I’m on a mission from God.

Frank Advice to Skyrocket Bush’s Approval Ratings

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I’ve been hard on Bush lately, but I want him to succeed. I think he can get right up there in approval ratings while making America a greater and safer nation, but he needs to follow my advice.
First thing, lose the suit. Go with the cowboy hat and duster like Walker Texas Ranger. Always have a loaded peacemaker at your side and be chomping on a cigar for effect. Also, camera crews need to follow you around all the time so the American people can see you doing all this.
Anyway, here are a few specifics of what you can do. You can probably add to this, but I’d say do all of this as a minimum:
* First, put the Democrat politicians in their place. Put out your cigar on Harry Reid’s face next time he speaks out. Tell Pelosi to shut up before the strain of talking causes her skull to shoot out her face. Ambush that nut Howard Dean while he is on a political talk show and repeat his moronic statements, each one followed by a punch to the face. Take a vial of pepper spray labeled “Holy Water” and throw it in Hillary’s face while she’s giving a speech. Have Cynthia McKinney dragged away to an insane asylum and threaten to do the same to anyone who voted for her. Bind Patrick Kennedy and put him in the front seat of a crash test car. Before hitting the button to slam him into a wall, tell him, “When the ambulance comes, say you were on the way to a vote.” As for Big Fat Teddy K, next time he liquors up, put him in a car and then push it off a bridge saying, “Let’s see if you can still swim, you fat bastard!”
* Next, take on the liberal moonbats. Just hunt down a few of the nuts like Kos and slap them around on camera so Americans see what a bunch of weenie little loons they are. Do the same with freak college professors in some random visits to different college campuses (start a contest students can enter called “Have the President Publicly Beat the Crap Out of My Liberal College Professor”). Just ignore Hollywood, because that’s what hurts them the most.
* Now put Congress and spending in its place by freezing the assets of everyone in Congress just like you do terrorists until Congress can decided how to get federal spending under control. Beat with a chair the first person to suggest more taxes.
* Douse with gasoline and threaten with a match the next politician who tries to demagogue the gasoline costs issue. Have him weepingly explain to the camera as he begs for his life how gas prices are set and the many issues involved.
* Take all the available National Guard and lead them into march through Mexico to Vicente Fox’s house. Smash it up a bit, take a few things you like, and, if Fox gets pissy, tell him that your just respecting the borders as much as he is and, if he likes to keep the status quo, he can expect more visits. Divert funding from welfare to buying arms for Minutemen.
* Kidnap Kofi Anan and have him battle John Bolton in a cage match. When Bolton emerges the victor, declare him new leader of the U.N. Let him clean house of illegitimate governments such as dictatorships and Communists. Throw France off the Security Council and instead give them their own special corner to cower in.
* Next time you meet with “President” Hu Jintao of China, after he finishes saying how great it is to have a meeting and how gracious you are, shoot him in the kneecaps and remark, “America never gets tired of shooting Communists, and we never will.”
* Have a meeting with Hugo Chavez. As soon as he starts to talk, punch him in the throat. Then grab his head and start slamming it against a table until he agrees to face the cameras and admit he’s “a dainty little girl.”
* Meet with the Hamas leaders of the Palestinians.
HAMAS: We will not recognize the existence of Israel. That’s our policy.
:: Bush pulls out a gun and shoots the Hamas leader in the head. ::
BUSH: I kill terrorists. That’s my policy.
* Give the military full authorization to use whatever force it feels necessary in Iraq. If things spill over into Syria or Iran, well, you’re “lax on border issues.”
* As for Iran, tell them they better get moving on their nuclear program if they want to retaliate because you’re going to nuke Tehran in three days. Then go on vacation for three days and be completely unreachable.
Now that is how you be a President. So take my advice, President Bush, and regain respect while setting example for future generations on to properly use violence to solve problems (I don’t want things too screwed up before I’m old enough to take office in 2016). Remember, when you scare everyone, the more so you scare our enemies.

Frank Guide to Foreigners on How Not to Anger Americans

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Some people are making a guide on how Americans should act so foreigners will like them. That is so stupid. Americans are powerful, armed, and have short attention spans and even shorter tempers; foreigners should be much more concerned with angering us. If we get mad enough, we’ll just call up our Congressman and have your country nuked. So, as a service to foreigners, here is:
A FRANK GUIDE TO NOT ANGERING AMERICANS
* Learn English. We’re the most powerful country in the world, so you better be fluent in English just in case you ever one day run into an American or just want to know what we’re saying about you… if anything. We don’t have time to learn all your different silly little languages, so just learn ours. Also, if you’re begging a Marine to spare your life, it’s much more effective if he can understand you.
* Don’t localize your McDonalds. The last thing Americans want is to go to a McDonalds in some foreign country and find that their Big Macs taste weird because you foreigners like it cooked some strange way. Learn to like things the way Americans make them. Do serve beer at McDonalds, though.
* Don’t insult the American President. I don’t care if Jimmy Carter gets a second term; only Americans get to make fun of the American President. To you foreigners, he should be treated as a revered, God-like figure since he can, at anytime, order your puny country bombed.
* Have hat racks. Americans need someplace to hang their cowboy hats when entering an establishment. If an American finds no place to hang his cowboy hat, he may just pull out a gun and shoot you… and he’d be fully justified.
* Don’t be French. I don’t care if you live in France; it’s unacceptable to Americans for you to be French. Fake an Italian accent or something. Even if it’s not very good, we’ll appreciate the effort.
* Don’t comment on our foreign policy. If you wanted your opinion to matter, you shouldn’t have been foreign. Just say that you like everything America is doing. We won’t actually expect you to know everything America is doing, though, because we don’t expect that of ourselves.
* Give us free stuff. The only reason your country is safe is because of America, so give Americans free stuff to show your appreciation. An American might even reward you with a story about American hero Jack Bauer if you’re extra good.
* If an American tells you to do something, then do it immediately. Usually we’ll just ask that you dance for our amusement.
* Accept American currency. We don’t want to carry around your fruity colored currency, so just take our dollars and figure out what to do with them yourself.
* No sudden arm movements. We’re trigger-happy, so don’t give us cause.
Did I miss anything? Also, what do you international IMAO readers do to keep from angering Americans?

In My World: The Least Hated

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[UPDATE: Now with spooky ending!]
A horn honked outside the White House. “Hey! Bush!”
President Bush stuck his head out the window. “What?”
“I hate you!” The man sped off down the street.
Bush collapsed in his office chair. “Aww… everyone hates me.”
“Why are you talking to me?” Condoleezza Rice asked. “I don’t like you!” She left the Oval Office.
The hooded figure of Karl Rove emerged from the shadows. “I have good news.”
“It better not be about how you saved money on car insurance because mine just went up since my insurer hate me.”
“No. The news I bring is about the popularity of Congress. It is at an all time low.” Rove handed a sheet of polling data to Bush.
“Wow! Despite polling the low thirties, I’m the most popular politician in Washington!” Bush turned to Rove. “I guess the American people just hate all politicians now. Maybe it’s time for some bi-partisan action.”
“Muh ha ha ha!” Rove disappeared back into the shadows.
Bush chuckled. “Rover sure is a jovial fella. Anyway, it’s time to make America love politicians.”

“Nothing says love like a carnival!” Bush exclaimed. “And, with a carnival run by politicians, people will love us again.”
Cheney just grumbled.
“You have to have a better spirit than that,” Bush said. “And I thought I told you to not bring a shotgun; people are going to be afraid that you’re gonna shoot ’em in the face.”
Cheney rubbed his shotgun. “Maybe they should be afraid.”
Bush turned to check on the Democrats. Nancy Pelosi’s skin was stretched back so that her teeth were bared. The site made Bush recoil in horror, and nearby children screamed and ran away. “What are you doing?” Bush demanded.
“I’m smiling,” Pelosi answered.
“Then don’t ever smile again. We’re trying to make people like us, not give them nightmares. Don’t make me regret including you Democrats.” Bush looked to Harry Reid. “So how are things going with you, Dingy Harry?”
“I keep trying to make the kids balloon animals, but they kick me in the groin.”
“Yeah, kids will do that… to you.”
“There are those stupid politicians!” a man shouted. A crowd then headed over to Bush, Cheney, Pelosi, and Reid.
“What are you going to do about illegal immigration?” one woman demanded.
“I’ll tell you what I won’t do,” Bush said, “Amnesty. I may do something that seems like amnesty and goes along with any standard definition of amnesty and everyone will call it amnesty… but it’s not amnesty because we have a different name for it.”
“The most important thing about Mexican immigrants,” Reid stated, “is getting them registered to vote.”
“And we have to make sure ballots are in Spanish,” Pelosi added.
Cheney waved his shotgun around. “I shoot Mexicans in the face!”
“This man has a plan,” the woman said, pointing to Cheney. “I like him better but hate you three goobers.”
“So what are you politicians going to do about trial lawyers bankrupting everyone?” one man asked.
“You shouldn’t be angry at trial lawyers,” Reid said. “They sue everyone to make a better America. And, no one is more charitable than them.”
“That’s true,” Bush stated. “They sure give the Democrats a lot of money, and you couldn’t find a bigger group of pathetic losers in need of charity than the Democrats.”
“I shot a trial lawyer in the face with my shotgun,” Cheney said, “and he was a friend of mine. Think of what I’ll do to the rest of them!”
“You’re the only one here who seems to know what he’s doing,” the man said to Cheney.
“I hate quails,” another person said. “Are any of you going to do something about them?”
“I kill quails with my shotgun,” Cheney answered.
Bush hit Cheney in the shoulder. “Dick! You and your shotgun better stop hogging all the popularity.”
“People, don’t just follow the gun-wielding maniac,” Pelosi told the crowd. “We Democrats care about you.” The skin on her face stretched back again.
“Why is she baring her teeth like that?” one guy asked. “Is she going to eat us?”
“That’s her smiling,” Bush said. He then thought for a moment. “For five bucks, you can hit her in the face with a pie.”
“I did not agree to any–” Pelosi was shut up when a pie struck her in the face.

“The new polls are in!” Bush exclaimed with glee. “The carnival worked! I’m up one point!”
“That could just be a statistically insignificant fluctuation in the polls,” Laura Bush said.
“Well, this is for real.” Bush held up a wad of cash. “I made this money letting people hit Nancy Pelosi in the face with a pie. Plus, I think I learned something: popularity doesn’t matter when you have money and power.”
“Well, I’m quite popular,” Laura said. “The only people who don’t like me are the craziest moonbats. Maybe I can bake them cookies.”
“You can’t ever get them to like you; they even hate themselves.”
A horn honked outside the White House. “Hey! Bush!”
President Bush stuck his head out the window. “What?”
“I’m ambivalent about you!” The man sped off down the street.
“Yes!”

Continue reading ‘In My World: The Least Hated’ »

Vote for the Greater of Two Evils!

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So what are some ideas for the Democrat’s slogan for 2006? Here are mine:
* Elect us, and we promise to finally come up with an agenda… and it will be good!
* If you give us power, we’ll whine a lot less.
* Assaulting police officers, ramming barricades… who knows what wackiness your congressional Dems will do next!
* You only get to find out our secret plans if we get elected.
* If Nancy Pelosi and Harry Reid are in charge, the terrorists will decide that America is too pointless to attack.
* Felons and dead people love us, why don’t you?
* You’ve see us Democrat politicians! We don’t have job skills for any real work! Please, we have family and mistresses to feed!
Whatever their slogan is, they better make sure to have a Spanish translation (or, more likely, they’ll need an English translation).
Put your own ideas in the comments!

Thank God It’s a Two-Party System

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Kos had his readers come up with a Republican slogan for the 2006 election. I didn’t read any, because I figured they would be asinine, but why don’t we give it a shot:
* “Because your only other choice is the Democrats.”
* “We admit it; we have a culture of corruption. Help reelect us, and we’ll cut you in.”
* “No, seriously, are you actually considering to vote for a Democrat?”
* “Who needs a slogan; Dieblold will rig things for us.”
* “Come on; we could burn down your house and still be a million times better choice than the Democrats.”
* “We’ve gotten so fat and lazy with our power, we’re not even going to bother with a slogan.”
* “Whoever came up with the phrase ‘lesser of two evils’ is a genius.”
* “Oh yeah… we do have to motivate you to the polls somehow. How about you elect us, and we’ll consider doing something about illegal immigration?”
What’s your idea for the 2006 Republican slogan (we’ll do the Dems later). Put it in the comments, yo!

Reason I Hate Liberals #54,389

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Liberals all have dumb monkey faces I want to punch.
Look at this liberal:

What an ugly monkey face! My fist is curling just looking at it.
And look at this guy:

If that’s not a dumb monkey face, then nothing is! I so need to punch something after seeing these dumb monkey-faced liberals!
There, I punched my desk.
So, all liberals have dumb monkey faces and I hate them.

In My World: Colbert, Iran, and Something that Rhymes with “Jew”

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President Bush read the jokes off the teleprompter and enjoyed the laughter from the audience at the White House Correspondence Dinner, but the strange echo he kept hearing was starting to disturb him. The echo wasn’t even correctly repeating what he was saying. Bush then turned to see another man was there who looked and sounded just like him.
“Aieeee! A pod person!” Bush shouted as he pulled out a shotgun.
Laura ran over and grabbed Bush. “That’s Steve Bridges and he’s part of the act.” Laura looked to the audience. “That’s my wacky husband!”
Everyone laughed, and Laura led Bush back to his seat while Stephen Colbert walked to the podium.
“This guy is funny!” Bush told Laura, “I saw him on TV, and I laughed really hard at all the jokes I understood.”
Stephen Colbert cleared his throat and started his routine. “President Bush is an evil man. He supports torture. No one likes him. He has broken many laws.” Colbert was quiet for a few seconds. “That was the punch line.”
Someone coughed.
“This isn’t funny!” Bush whispered to Laura. “Something is wrong with him! Maybe he’ll be funnier if I throw a shoe at him.”
“He has gotten us into a war where many have died,” Colbert continued. “He is not smart, and–” A shoe hit Colbert in the head. “Ow!”
“Ha! That was funny!” Bush shouted. He then thought for a moment. “Can someone hand me back my shoe?”

Bush poured himself a cup of coffee. “That stupid dinner had me up past my bedtime. Why can’t I delay running the country until later?” He then saw Tony Snow in the hallway. “Wow! I know you from FOX News! What are you doing here?”
“Um… you hired me as your new press secretary, remember?”
“Yeah, we needed to replace tubby. No why we needed to replace him?”
“Because he was…” Tony shrugged his shoulders. “…tubby?”
“That’s right! You’re a quick one, Snowman.”
Tony took out a newspaper. “Anyway, I thought you might want to see this. In reaction to Stephen Colbert’s performance, a number of left-wing nuts have erected shrines in his honor and formed religions around him.”
Bush furrowed his brow. “They thought he was funny?”
“They don’t go as far to say that, but they think he was daring to speak the truth or some crap.”
“But he wasn’t funny!” Bush exclaimed. “Don’t these moonbats understand funny?”
“Studies show they are quite humorless.”
“The only funny part was when I hit him with my shoe,” Bush said. He then laughed. “Man, that was funny. He was all like, ‘Ow! Where did that shoe come from?’ Did you see that, Snowman?”
Tony chuckled. “Yes, that was funny. It was also funny when he picked up your shoe and ran off and then you started cursing at him.”
Bush looked down to see one of his feet was shoeless. “He still has my shoe! That unfunny shoe-stealer!” Bush grabbed a shotgun that was leaning against a table. “I’m getting my shoe back!”
“You sure keep a lot of shotguns around.”
“That’s because I’m a smart president! Now, come on; time to get your hands dirty, Snowman!” Bush began to awkwardly march off, but Condoleezza Rice stopped him.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to go get my shoe back from that unfunny Stephen Colbert!” Bush shouted. “We’ll see who is funny when I murder him dead!”
“But Iran has threatened that, if anyone attacks Stephen Colbert, they will retaliate against Israel!” Condi exclaimed.
“So?” Bush answered. “It’s not like I have a summer home there.”
“Yes, but if Israel is attacked, they vow to retaliate against Saudi Arabia. And, if Saudi Arabia is attacked, the vow to retaliate against…” Condi took out a long sheet of paper. “Well, to cut to the chase, eventually someone will retaliate against Namibia, who vows to attack us.”
“Oh no! We’ll all die!” Bush exclaimed. “I can’t believe that Iran is directly indirectly threatening us like that, but I can’t just walk around with one shoe! The international community will never respect me!”
“We could just go buy some new shoes,” Tony suggested.
“Maybe you come from a world where you can just go to some magical store and get shoes,” Bush said, “but, here in the world of politics, if a comedian steals your shoe, you have to get it back using a shotgun or you shall remain shoeless forever!”
“Haven’t you ever wondered why, to this day, Jimmy Carter walks around shoeless?” Condi asked Tony.
“I guess there’s a lot to politics I still have to learn.”
“There’s a lot about everything I have to learn,” Bush said. He looked to Condi. “Put out the announcement that, if America is attacked, we will retaliate against Iran!”

The crazy Iranian president ran to the crazy Iranian mullahs. “America threatens to destroy us if attacked!”
The crazy Iranian mullahs looked over a long sheet of paper. “That means if we attack Israel in retaliation for an attack on Stephen Colbert, we will surely die… eventually. Tell Colbert we will no longer defend him.”
The crazy Iranian president picked up the phone and dialed Stephen Colbert. “We will no longer retaliate against Israel if you are attacked.”
“You will no longer what? –And who is this?”

Bush stood outside the Comedy Central studios and chambered a round into his shotgun. “It’s time to get my shoe back, Snowman!”
A number of hooded figures approached Bush and Tony. “We are of the Church of Colbert, the one who brings truth to power, and we will die in defense of him.”
“Okay.” Bush fired his shotgun and killed all the liberals.
“Do you feel any remorse for that?” Tony asked.
Bush chambered another round. “It should be pretty obvious at this point in my presidency that I don’t feel any remorse for anything.”

The doorbell rang at the White House. Laura put down her duster to answer it.
“Hi,” said a man standing at the doorstep holding a box. “We had a number of items left in Lost & Found after the White House Correspondence Dinner. One’s a shoe that we think might belong to President Bush.”
Laura picked up the shoe. “Yes, he was looking for this.”
“We also have four shotguns.”
Laura rolled her eyes. “Yeah, he really needs those.”

Oy! Enough with the Blowing People Up Already!
An Editorial by Allah

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 People are always telling me, “Hey, Allah, you should write another book. All the books you’ve written before were very popular; I’m not sure if anyone actually read the whole megillah, but everyone has to have one.” It’s not like I’m out to make some gelt, though, and I thought I already wrote everything I need to say. Plus, it’s not like I have the time to write; if you could even understand how much I have to do each day, you’d plotz. Still, I thought it would be a real good chochmeh to write a column to go over a few points since so many people seem to have some facacta ideas these days.

“Yeah, I know I’m great, but know who’s not so great? You schmucks.”

 So, the other day, I’m watching over things, and everything is going well until some deli gets blown up. And I’m all ferklempt. What’s happening here? Some poor schlemazel stops in for a nosh and he gets blown up for that? And the Palestinian noodniks are kvelling over this? Oy! So the schmendrick responsible blew himself up too, and he’s smiling like it’s some real koontz he just did. So I ask, “What’s wrong with you?”

 An know what he says? He says he thought I wanted this. Oy Gevalt! So I ask him what meshungina told him I wanted all this tumul. He tells me, “Mohammed.”

 Mohammed! Like that’s some help. There are so many Mohammeds these days that even I have trouble keeping track. I need this like I need a loch in kopp. So I tell him to draw me picture of this particular Mohammed so I know exactly what schlemiel we’re talking about.

 And he say no! Can you believe that chutzpah? The one true God asks him for a little doodle, and he says no. Then I finally realize what Mohammed he’s talking about, the one with the real pisk on him. Oy Veyzmir! I warned that groyse macher when he wrote his Koran to be careful, because people are going to take that thing seriously. But did he listen? Now all these people are running around with these cacamaimey ideas that they can get 72 virgins by blowing themselves up on buses. What? Are they so furblungit they think I have the playboy mansion up here? That I’m going to say to them, “Mazel tov on blowing up that preschool. Now here are some shikses for you to fool around with.”

 I don’t want to kibbutz, but some of these Muslim boychiks seem a bit sexually frustrated. What these nebbishes need to do is change out of those shmatas their wearing, clean the schmootz off their faces, not act like some chazzer, and meet some gezuntah moyyd. They have to get over this killing everybody idea, because that is not going to impress the women if that’s what they want.

 Now, these Muslims can be some nice people. They pray five times a day, and I’m always telling people, “Hey, you need to pray more. And, while you’re at it, call your mother. She wants to hear from you too.” I don’t quite get the facing Mecca part, but you have to face something, I guess. Just remember who you’re praying to; Mecca may have its own McDonalds, but it didn’t create the universe.

 Anyway, I’d rather some of these Muslim noodniks focus a bit less on the praying and a bit more on the not killing. It’s not only bad for those involved, but it’s certainly not making me look good. What’s this shtick about blowing up some nice people and then shouting, “Allah ackbar!”? Hok me a chinik! Yeah, I know I’m great, but know who’s not so great? You schmucks. So enough with the blowing people up already.
Allah is the one true God and also the author of such books as the Torah and numerous science fiction stories for young adults.