Sunday, February 19, 2006

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.

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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.


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


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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.


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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.

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