Sunday, 23 March 2008
It’s a little known fact…
Free, clear minded Western women and Islam don't mix. Ever. Ain't that great? It's the only good thing about Islam. Oh yes, and that Islamism can and will be destroyed.
In the 7th Century A.D, somewhere in God’s Monkey House of the Middle-East, a lone sand rapist and matchmaker, one Mohammad Wilson (no relation), was heard to say “Jesus, I really need to go to the bleedin’ Khazi, mate!” No, he did.
Cart wheeling among a rocky outcrop, Wilson saw a cave opening and said “’Ere’s a nice slash stop. I don’t want no bleedin’ camel looking at my zucchini, mate”, as he used an old ceramic fish tank left casually on a chez lounge.
“Well, time to get back to that crossword puzzle. Nine down. A five letter word for weird and odd starting with K that is not Koran? Kooky. Seventeen across. A five letter word for mad starting with I that is not Islam? Insane. Forty-two down. A twelve letter word for monstrously perverted and depraved control freakeries starting with M that is not Mohammadism? Megalomanias. Bloody easy, and most of these words haven’t even been invented yet”.
Mohammad Wilson was not just a great crossword puzzle champion and a goat rapist extraordinaire, but a psychopath whose many obsessions included cutting off heads because as he put it, “they were looking at me”, bathing up to once every five years in lice and sadly, playing garden bowls. “I may be a paedophile but I’m covered in filth, eh?” he often said proudly.
Which by an amazing coincidence, is exactly what another young man said at exactly the same time from the back of the cave, who was not just a psychopath, but completely insane, and also called Mohammad. And why he drank the fish tank of urine will perhaps never be known, but it seems to have pushed him over the edge, so to speak, even though he had long ago run out of any ‘edge’ to go over, having used any normal man’s ‘edge quota’ a thousand fold to the power of quod.
It was this brinksmanship, where he always went over the brink, that inspired Mohammad to get a very rare and literate stripe assed baboon and scribe, to write down every piece of crazed rubbish that Mohammad would gibber day and night, that consequently became known as the Koran. This translates roughly as not just crazed rubbish, but as a triumph of crude, turgid, unreadable madness, but with a small section in the back showing local and state wide bowl clubs.
Sadly, few people who were not insane were interested in this or Islam in general, even with the free bowling club memberships and the relentless threats of violence, so naturally Mohammad formed a friendly society to kill them all. “If we kill everyone who disagrees with us, you won’t get more peaceful than that! Hey, let’s call it the religion of peace?” And he did, and soon everyone else was saying the same thing, who weren't running, screaming and dying, no matter how empirically stupid and what an enormous lie it clearly and obviously all was and is.
The moral of this story is this. Never get trapped in a lift with an Islamist loon, or in the same country or even the same planet. Really.