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Instead of Explaining the Freedom of Speech to the Middle East,
I Would Rather...
...wait at the finish line of the Saudi Arabian Relay 500
for women and lick/eat whatever I find under the sweaty burqa.
...be a teenage camel jockey who bumps into Michael Jackson
in the winner's circle and is forced into chugging "Muhammed" juice.
...insult a hardware store owner in Iraq by saying his saws
aren't even sharp enough to cut off my head.
...run through a Tehran mosque covered in barbequed pork chops
and scream out that "I am the Devil, and I am delicious!"...
and then sing the "I Am Evil Homer" song.
...share a Baghdad taxi with a guy who's next destination
is Allah.
...replace the Jamarat stone with a hungry, gigantic
panda bear who gets really pissed when people throw rocks at him.
...put all of my money into a soap stand in Damascus.
...declare the one-sided divorce of talaq on
peanut butter. Peanut butter...how you make me sport wood
like no other.
...fish off a pier in Yemen and hear the guy next to me
say "Hey...did anyone hear that?".
...be the pioneer of the religious festival of Ashoura by
flailing myself in the taint. Flailing your back is for
pussies.
...ride on the back of Flipper as he assaults an Iranian
military port with his head-mounted machine gun and his
doughty, spine-chilling laugh.
...be the Russian mule who smuggles uranium past the U.N.
and into Iran by shoving what I can in my ass and wearing
the rest as a hat.
...be at an Iraqi barbeque where nobody brought a match...and
then everyone looks at the weapons cache a few yards away.
...parachute over a rural Muslim wedding, with
country-bumpkin guests carrying AK-47s who celebrate with
a little gunfire.
...be a surprise guest on the Iraqi version of "Jackass",
in which Wee-Man, Steve-O, and I would ride in a large
shopping cart over mine-laden ground.
...watch some hardcore Middle Eastern pornography where
a man sucks off a camel and then burns his balls in a hukka.
...get into the dirtiest cab with the most olfactory-abusive
driver and listen to the David Lee Roth show on the radio.
...be a trainer of the Iraqi army, having to repeat my
explanation of which end a gun's bullets come out
and of how guns are not good surgical tools.
...be a member of a family in Peshawar when the patriarch
declares a gang-rape on the family's pet jackal, having
dishonored the family by being a slut...only to have it
turn out that the jackal is my little brother wearing
a bear rug. Bad, bad jackal.
...attend a flag-burning protest on an oil pipeline.
...grease my cock with hummus and masturbate to the
pictures of Saddam Hussein in his underwear.
...attach a string to my lawn mower and hurl it at
participants in a Pakistani kite duel. I repeat,
don't fuck with Robo-Kite.
...enjoy a fine pint of Riyadh Lager, made with fermented
sand and carrying a pleasant aroma of camel piss.
...supply Iran with nuclear power by dropping a few "Fat Man"
bombs.
...run a political campaign for Crazy Harry the Muppet to
win a seat in the Iraqi parliament, promising more bombs
for everybody, and hire Lew Zealand to assassinate
the Iranian mullahs with his arsenal of fish.
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