Bomb Iran!
President Bush sent this letter to Mahmoud Ahmadinejad of Iran after he realized that it’s impossible for that backwards country to give up its nuclear programme.
Dearest Mahmoud,
Admit it. You’re a big scaredycat. You’re clinging to the ceiling with all four paw claws and your fur is all electrified. Why? We have proof:
Iran has strong allies? Bring it on, pansy. The armed forces of Iran are greater than the armed forces of Ba’athist Iraq were in 2003? We spit at the face of danger, so bring it on. Iran has a population of 70 million, at least 2 million of which have military experience? Bring it on, I dare you to. You won’t follow America’s rules? I implore you to reconsider. This is America. The same America that removed the boot of tyranny from the back of your nation’s butts. America-hating little Marxists won’t get the best of us. Leadership is a tool, as is democracy, as is all forms of politics. Politics is a tool for corporations, and the corporations are tools for the stockholders, and the stockholders are sociopaths with illuminati-esque grandeur delusion. So what have we to lose? We saved the world from strong yet corrupt regimes. Remember why we joined World War II? Actually, it does not matter why, how, or when we got involved. We got involved, and if it was not for our industrial strength and soldiers, you would either be a bar of soap or speaking German. Period.
I heard you called me a loser on national television. See now, if this came from a person whom I actually respected that would cut deeply, but being called a “loser†by a person whom I consider painfully boring and obnoxious amounts to nothing more than a mosquito bite. It’s annoying, and it might draw a little blood, but ultimately, you end up as little more than something that I slap, look at with disgust, and wash off my hands. I hate anyone who questions my authority with the searing hot fire of a thousand burning suns. I’m not laughing. Does it sound like I’m laughing? This is because I couldn’t be more serious, Mahmoud.
Look, we can negotiate a deal if you’re up to it. No one has to know, one of my few qualities (other than having the balance of a leopard and the ability to cook the world’s tastiest lasagne) is discretion and trustworthiness. Nobody will ever know what you say to me. I kind of picked up on you and Chavez, but I don’t see it as my business to ever intrude on other people’s stuff, unless it involves money or fame. We should do it, it’ll be more amusing than staring at a swarm of stoned wasps. It’s just like the lies I tell my people. If you do it in a matter-of-fact, straight-faced way, they just buy it.
I remember once saying that contestants on a Japanese TV show were catapulting cats and tortoises onto a big target painted on a wall in order to win hair grooming products. The facial reactions I got were brilliant.
We all have problems, man. You know how it goes, having problems and being affected by them but feeling as if you can’t do anything to ease them. Things just don’t work the way they do in a Hayley Mills movie. I’m trying to make this easier for you. I’m planning on telling people how polite you are, but how there’s still the anger of a hungry Rosie O’Donnell burning behind your eyes, just in case you turn out to be a traitor. If I burry my face too far up your butt people might dismiss this as a conspiracy, but I’m only really doing it because I care about America’s future generations. My daughter’s pregnant. Did you hear that? The doctor says it’s a girl. We’re naming her Lucifer. Lucy for short. I want her to take full advantage of the blessings of America’s freedom. Think of my family, man. You’ll only be making it harder for yourself if you try to fight back in an attempt to stop us from destroying your culture. It won’t work, so we may as well do it hand in hand. Even though it’s so fucking cliché for a president to be suicidal.
It’s your call.
Fondly,
George.
No, Don't Bomb Iran!
Mahmoud Ahmadinejad’s letter back to Bush:
George jaan,
You’d be better off somewhere in a prison cell maneuvering a useless wooden toy. I think you have too much to offer the world to get involved in this geopolitical mess. It’s one big chess game played by idiotic dictators and paranoid reactionaries. Always has been. I understand that your administration has already made its decision and you will most likely rear your ugly ass where it doesn’t belong, but can’t you just tell them that your troops are allergic to sand or something?
Don’t you ever sit down and try to comprehend how miserable the world around you is? I can imagine all too well the inter-galactic hopping of human fleas from planet to planet, sucking dry world after world in our endless desire for Bigger! Better! More! At some point, I used to think of us sitting cross-legged, enlightened under the same tree. We both like war. We both like destruction. We both couldn’t give a shit, because if
we weren’t doing it, someone else would be. So why the hell not?
George, I must say that my feelings for you have changed. See, I realized that don’t know anything about you other than your tragically humourless journey of discovery and the subsequent hot flashes brought on by an inner conflict over who you should impress next. So now you leave me little choice but to append nouns to bad words to get you to go away and/or stop accosting us with your contrived hilarity. I feel intellectually stable leading this country. If it weren’t for the microscopic-brain celled majority that fall for my words, I would probably be doing something more constructive, like slashing my wrists and attempting to decapitate baby lambs before slamming their heads in my refrigerator.
My assistants told me about your offer. What the hell are you inviting me to America for? You think you can get away with telling people “we got him!†and humiliating me like a naked otter of some such wank? The answer to that is no, nay, NEVER, George. Besides, why would I even want to be involved with one big mass of sheep with no discerning personality features other than the fact that they hug a lot? America sucks. Israel needs to fuck off. You need to shut the hell up. End of.
Shab be kheyr,
Mahmoud
Source:
www.shitire.com
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