Well aftyernoon that is…. The NGFF let me sleep in until Noon! Ahhhhhhhh….. that was nice. I’m a bit stiff from the excessive rack time, but that’ll work out the kinks after a while. Nothing like the Rice Krispies Morning with a ‘snap’ ‘crackle’ and ‘pop’ to get you going.
Getting old sucks. Oh well… I’m at least still on this side of the dirt.
Good news this morning: Abu Bakr Aboo-Boo Baghdadi got blown to hamburgerlers last night.
Who’s yor Baghdaddy Now Bitch?
Seems the boyos from Delta and SF were “Sneaking and Peeking” at this asshole for a while. They got word he’d bunkered in for the night, so they went Active to the “Shooting and Looting” phase. Initial reports are he self-detonated a suicide vest.
Typical. Fucking Towel Headed Fuzzie-Wuzzies got -no- balls. They, in my experience are the very definition of gutless. There’s no genuine bravery among them. The few who amp themselves up do it either through copious amounts of drugs or they get into that whole ‘religious transcendent thing’… Its mostly that they have had the strength bred out of them. Arab conscript troops are by definition “Cannon Fodder”… “Grist for the Mill” or my fave: “Grease for our Tracks.” “Leaders” like Abu-Aboo-Boo get to where they are by craftiness and guile. They’re the used car salesmen of the area… (‘cept they don’t have used cars per se… you dig what I’m saying…) They manage to convince a bunch of young guys that the only way they’re getting laid is in the afterlife.
See, Islam is a CULT. In this particular cult, the social mores and ideals make it a culture of sexual thirst that is the basis of its power. Because of Poverty, and a social structure that makes it dependent on the tradition of bride price and dowry, you end up with an imbalance of Male-to-Female relationshits. Namely the rich doodz gots all the panocha.
Okay… Maybe I could get into this Whole Arab Wive(s) thing…
Hell Abu Aboo-Boo is being reported as to having 3-4 beeee-atches in the compound with him when he self-checked out. Money/Power = Alpha Chad. Broke/Woke = Beta/Gamma. More like Gamma as gammas tend to be self destructive and chaos driven. So since the poor guys can’t get laid, and the guys WITH the $$$, Power and Pussy tell them that “-The only way yer getting laid is to self detonate and get your 72 virgins in the afterlife.-“
And these double digit IQ midgets believe that shit.
Sort of like the Congolese Tribesmen who got ‘Magic Powder’ sprinkled on them by a voodoo shaman before battle: “This will make you bulletproof Simba if you believe hard enough.”
No refunds. If the magic didn’t work it was on YOU. YOU failed to have strong belief, willpower whatthefuckever… And another thing: You ever notice that like -NONE- of the higher-higher motherfuckers are out blowing themselves up? Why is that? Yeah… Bingo.
In fact I’ll throw out a little lesson here that I learned and may or may not have ranted about before. The translation of the original Koran. The word for ‘raisin’ and ‘virgin’ are spelled the same way… it’s a matter of regional dialectic approaches. A minor mispronunciation or a ‘terp (interpreter) from a different region and suddenly the whole “Die and go to Paradise and get 72 renewable Virgins or Raisins?” becomes an issue.
Speaking from a knowledgeable cultural standpoint, back in the day when Might Mo (The Prophet Mohammed, Piss Be Upon Him) was running his pedo-show, Raisins as strange as it sounds… and bear with me… Raisins were considered to be a valued commodity. Raisins didn’t spoil and were a great valued dietary addition to doodz who were plowing thru sand dunes and where fresh food was at a premium.
Virgins on the other hand… sheesh. I’ve copped a couple of cherries in my day. Nasty Brutish Unpleasant experiences for me AND them. So… the whole “Rechargeable Pussys?” Not so much. -I- Definitely wouldn’t want to have Paradise being me fucking 72 different broads every day fresh and rebuilt for all of eternity. That sounds more like punishment.
Another way to look at it is being given a brand new pair of leather combat boots. You get to wear them alllll day long breaking them in, dealing with hot spots and the like… and then just as they’re starting to break in, the next day? ANOTHER brand new never been worn pair of boots… that need breaking in. And no, you -don’t- get to keep or wear the pair from the day before….
That would undoubtedly –suck-
Leave me with a fresh pouch of Sunmaid every day? Hell yeah. Just as long as I got something to wash ’em down with… Like a handle of Vodka.
More Later… Til then I remain the Intrepid Reporter