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Anyone Here Speak Saddam?
"Eat my hairy rectum,
Walter Kronkite." |
Turns out that not only did the translator hired by Saddam
not really have an accent, he also didn't speak Iraqi. Miraculously,
I just finished my certification in IAASL (Iraqi As A Second
Language) and am ready to do my darndest.
Okay, I'm putting the tape in now. He starts out with,
"Eat my hairy rectum, Walter Kronkite." Actually,
that was a clearing of the ol' dictatorial throat. My baddy.
Now here he goes: "We have captured Richard Dean Anderson,
who you would best know as ABC’s MacGyver. We wish
to use his God-like ingenuity to make a bomb out of Grecian
formula and the ear wax of seven dead British prime ministers."
Wait, I misheard…Six dead British prime ministers.
I wished I could have told him that corpses don't continue
to have ear wax in the decomposition stage. That mortician
class at the Learning Annex could really…Hussein now
taking in the irony of the fact the song "Why Can’t
We Be Friends?" was written by a group called War.
He sips a Tab. Ahh, that was a good Tab, he says. He now
admits he's made some mistakes: "For example, I thought
a certain Internet phrasing was short for "oomph,"
meaning that extra bit of energy. I realize now that "MMF"
just means a sweet double team." Fast forward. Yap,
yap, yap, I’m gonna take over the world, yap, yap,
my mustache makes Rollie Fingers look like a pre-pubescent,
yap yap, you betta lose yaself in the music, you betta neva
let it…Okay, he's concluding: "Iraq is like that
stepson who never got the same attention you gave your 'real'
kids. What was wrong with Iraq? Okay, so maybe Iraq didn't
make the JV basketball team, and, yes, Iraq never went
to Prom, but some Middle East countries go through awkward
stages. I just needed you to hug me. You never hugged me.
Now I want to put you in an old folks' home. One with
the words 'shady' or 'pines' in the title."
Saddam now picks out a grundy. No, that's his wallet. He’s
going to the soda machine for another Tab. I can no longer
watch this madness.
By
Eric Butterman - The Infidel
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