So, apparently, this Thursday, February 11, Iran is prepared to deliver a “telling blow” to Western powers. That’s so much fun that they’re keeping it a surprise. I wonder what it could be. Maybe they’re getting married to North Korea! or Syria’s pregnant with their Islamic Fundamentalist love child. Either way, this is going to be a really exciting week. I can’t wait. It better not be some stupid parade or something. “Yeah, we’ll bring the rest of the world to their knees with our FABULOUS parade extravaganza! We’re going to have suicide bomber elephants and a thousand piece marching band of burqa clad swimsuit models. We’re gonna roll out our Soviet – era tanks and missiles, you’re all gonna be so jealous of us…ooo eeee, you’re gonna be on your knees.” I wanna see the Ayatollah out in front leading the parade, kicking his knees up in the air with a little baton and Ahmadinejad following behind him playing a fife. They’ll make us all suffer with the largest release of confetti in recorded history. Radioactive confetti, that will drift toward Israel somehow, even though the wind will blow it in the opposite direction; well maybe there will be enough of it that it can go around the entire world and still be around to blanket Israel in Iranian celebration. That’s the way to make the rest of us suffer Iran, have the greatest sickass parade/celebration ever known, and we’ll just all become Islamic fundamentalists and denounce materialism overnight. Everyone wants to be just like you Iran, you’re so cool, we’re all dying to give up our freedoms to be ruled by intolerance and oppression, totally, you really make yourselves seem so desirable. All the girls in the US have been chattin up how they can’t wait to be covered from head to toe in burqas and are just sick of sluttin it up in the clubs, they’re so down for it. Get real, eat a whopper, go fuck your wife while her friends lick your asshole from behind, get with it, have some fucking fun. Try a pulled pork sandwich, or a bacon egg and cheese, shit’s mad good. What’s the point of living? Oh, yeah to wait to die so you can do all the stuff you secretly wanted to do while you were alive; cool, keep hoping on that. Imma go fuck 72 virgins while I’m actually alive, keep dreamin’. Peace.