In space, no one can hear those whiney militant radical Islamist b*tches scream

Back, not too long ago, I thought space colonization was a little cool. Different. Technoromantic. As I flabbily approach middle age, I could give a good gosh darn, though you kids go ahead and knock yourselves out. However, in light of recent events, a little condo on the Moon is sounding purdy good. Not having to listen to these foohkeen freakazoids, whine, bitch, moan, and cry. Every single dang day now.


You asking me? Ummm ... I'd have to say no. We do other stuff. Like live life. And last I checked, I didn't have a single thought of joining a mob and burning down any mosques. Though a koran burning party right now, doesn't seem entirely unfun.



No, burning a mosque let alone fifteen [churches in Nigeria. And however many in Pakistan today? (pictured)]. Is not on the agenda.



So let's see .... if I save about ten grand a day. In about six or seven years I can get off this insect infested rock.







Militant radical Islam keeps on killing, and killing, and ....


And well, you know what? In space, I would hope that I wouldn't have to listen to these stanky beeotches either? He isn't dead, but this is the best impression of grave dancing I've ever seen.