Like I am a Muslim
I have been riding a wave in a drought. I am hanging ten like honor killings.
I am surfing on corpses. I am drowning pussy cats in the name of Allah.
I think I am going to get seventy-two virgins when I get to heaven for attaching dynamite to my son and blowing up a village of elders. That’s worth something in a roulette wheel of depravity. I am kind of heroic in a murderous sort of way.
I kill gays. It’s in the Koran. I do what I must do and sometimes I don’t depending upon my mood.
Westerners feel bad about the way they treat gays and women. You should see how bad the gays and women feel in the hands of Muslims.
What’s the big deal about an occasional pedophilic priest? Our whole Pakistani culture is rampant with mounting boys like a taxidermist hanging them on a wall.
I pray five times a day. I like kneeling. My forehead feels good against a mat.
If our women cheat on us we stone them to death. Why wouldn’t they cheat on us? We are nasty, ugly and bearded.
We are afraid of women. We hide them in veils. They have strange powers to hurt us. That’s something we know that western men don’t understand. Love is a can of worms with which we catch either affection or violence.
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