I hate the Post Office.  I won’t go into details here, but I reckon you’ll take my word for it.  I was once accused of threatening to blow up a Post Office.  I did not threaten to blow up a Post Office.  I merely told them I was going to drive a U-Haul towing a 767 over there as soon as I went by the ammo and fertilizer and dynamite stores.  Some people just don’t appreciate my subtle sense of humor.

     I would make an absolutely awesome terrorist.  One you’d be proud of.  You know how every few months some sand-niggers storm a tourist bus in Egypt and whack a few old German tourists?  I just think, Why can’t you get all the fucking geezers?  Incompetent fucking losers.  Give me that rifle.

     But I’m too polite to be a terrorist.  I love all people.  Even the nice fellow who delayed me on my way here today.  I only threw the bottle at his head as a way of saying, “Nice going, friend.”  It wasn’t that big of a deal.  The bottle was empty.

     Terrorists could use some public-relations help.  Everybody thinks they’re such bad guys.  A media makeover for all the ayatollahs and the Houthi sand-nigger rebels is imperative if they are to remain worthy of their exalted enemy status.  Maddow could host the gig, MSNOW would run it.

     Ilhan could suck them off, like she did her dads and brothers.

     I’d like to see the ending to that show, if it was hosted anywhere Tomahawk missiles could reach.  I just hope Joy and Whoopi are on stage…

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