Monday, May 2, 2011

Osama Bin Laden is dead!

"Pick up a copy of my book "Sitting on Cold Porcelain" for less than a gallon of gas at Smashwords " ~ Rosie

It’s official, Osama Bin Laden was killed by Navy SEALs and his body confiscated by U.S. ground forces at a compound in Abbottabad, Pakistan, about 80 miles north of Islamabad - long overdue!

Rumor has it that he will be buried at sea according to Islamic traditions (before the next prayer service). Speculation is that a quicksand pit at the Dead Sea will be chosen. This way, if terrorists decide to make it hallowed ground, we can wipe them all out in a single pilgrimage. The Dead Sea pit will absorb the bodies and there will be no leakage into any body of water.

Upon hearing the news, I donned my press badge and collected eulogy comments about the event including some from his designated pallbearers:

“It couldn't have happened to a nicer guy. My boyfriend, Kermit, and me just bought scalper tickets to Next Restaurant.” ~ Miss Piggy
“I have decided NOT to become a sheepdog after all. This is too much fun. BTW, who gets to keep the bounty?” ~ Babe
“It was a Noble thing.” ~ Piglet
“We are throwing a party in Woodcock Pocket; you are invited.” ~ Toot and Puddle
“Risu and I are making a Hello Kitty body bag for him.” ~ Pippo
“It’s milk and apples on the Animal Farm tonight!” ~ Squealer
"As chief pallbearer, they call me MISTER Pig!" ~ Pumbaa
“They huffed and they puffed and they blew him away.” ~ Three Little Pigs
“Zuckerman gave me the day off to celebrate this event.” ~ Wilbur
“Hyvästi!” ~ Wagner the Pig
“He is now a dead wuz-wolf.” ~ Peter Porkchop
“It’s a clap hands celebration!” ~ Hamm
“I like my bin laden sausage with fennel seeds, please.” ~ Gordy the Pig
“Jolly good job!.” ~ Johnny The Pepermint Pig
“I am feasting on TWO Buster Bars.” ~ Noelle
“I knew he would get it. Can I put an apple in his mouth?” ~ Arnold Ziffle
“Can I have my old name back for the services?” ~ Pork Chop (a.k.a. Ferrous)
"Th-Th-Th-Th-Th-That's all, folks!” ~ Porky Pig
"I just love Stuttering pigs, don’t you?” ~ Petunia Pig

1 comment:

Watkin said...

I have been trying hard to get a handle on this most enigmatic of world figures. When I heard he had 100 usb sticks in his possession I finally felt I understood.

It is really difficult to get the right memory stick isn't it? Between us my wife an I have, well not perhaps 100 but almost 10. Different colours, different capacities and so on. In contrast I read that he had, to hand, only one AK47. There is clearly something that munitions are getting right and electronics manufacturers are getting wrong. Someone should organise a video conference.

No one ever trades up their AK47 do they? There is, for example, no AK48. Although one should presume that there were 46 previous AKs before they finally hit on the golden formula of the 47th. I know it is a cliche but as my mother always says, 47th time lucky, referring in this case to my sister's most recent job change.

I do not anticipate an AK 47.2 for example and certainly no sudden upgrades slowing the whole system down just as you are preparing to plug some infidel in the back of the cranium.

I wonder if we are supposed to infer something sinister from Bin Laden's predilection for data? I have always found those with more than one mobile pleasantly gangster. If middle class I assume they have affairs. If a white van driver that they have several dodgy deals on the go.

But imagine the scene, you are led blindfolded to the compound of the world's most wanted man. You look about. Where in the wilds are we? you think. (Actually it's Abbottabad, the Reading of Pakistan). You are led into the inner sanctum and there he sits, arrogantly, surrounded not by armed men and beautiful women but his brother-in-law and 100 usb memory sticks... They leaf through a curling edition of Which? magazine, Peripherals special edition. The fiends.

Perhaps the suggestion is that, shock horror, he's got a lot of data on us, sticks full! Maybe he just downloads a lot of music, illegally I am afraid we have to assume.

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