Where Is My Water?

An Arab diplomat visiting the US for the first time was being wined and dined by the State Department.

The Grand Emir was unused to the salt in American foods (French fries, cheeses, salami, anchovies, etc.) and was constantly sending his manservant, Abdul, to fetch him a glass of water.

Time and again, Abdul would scamper off and return with a glass of water, but then came the time when he returned empty-handed.

“Abdul, you son of an ugly camel, where is my water?” demanded the Grand Emir.

“A thousand pardons, O Illustrious One,” stammered the wretched Abdul, “but a man is sitting on the well.”

‘Twas the Night Before Ramadan

by Mullah Mohammed Omar

‘Twas the night before Ramadan, and all through the cave
Not a creature was stirring; it felt like a grave.
The turbans were hung by the fire pit with care,
In hopes that the Air Force would not soon be there.

The soldiers were restless without any beds,
While visions of air strikes flashed in their heads.
Osama in his burkha and I in my goatskin cap,
Had just settled down for a cold, barren winter’s nap.

When out on the ledge there arose such a clatter,
I grabbed my Kalashnikov to see what was the matter.
Away from the racket I ran like a girl,
Tripped over a goat; into a ball I did curl.

The moon shone down on the new-fallen snow
And lit up the valley with an ominous glow,
When, what to my one good eye should appear,
But a dozen Apaches, and tanks in the rear.

And their leader, so fearless, his troops he did push,
I knew in an instant it must be George Bush.
More rapid than eagles his forces they came,
And they whistled, and shouted, and called out our names.

“Now Omar! Osama! Muhammad! Abdul!
We come for you now; we’ve taken Kabul!
To the top of the cliffs! To the back of their caves!
When you chose this war, you dug your own graves!”

As the dry leaves that before the assault choppers fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, light up the sky.
So up to the ledge his forces they flew
With full magazines, and flamethrowers, too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard with a thud
The explosions of Tomahawks; not one was a dud.
As I chambered my rifle, and was turning around,
Osama was there, disguised in a gown.

He was dressed all in drag, from his head to his toes,
And he said he would flee while I held off his foes.
A bundle of money he had stuffed in his pack,
He said “I’m going to Baghdad and I’m not looking back!”

His eyes were all glassy; he trembled with fear,
The American bombs, they rang in his ears.
He saddled his goat, then turned tail and fled,
But a Marine Corps sniper got him in the head.

I watched with cold fear as his body did slump,
The goat threw him off; he fell with a thump.
And so, there I stood, my plans all destroyed,
About to suffer a fate I could not avoid.

I dropped to my knees; asked Allah for help,
His voice boomed in my ears, “You ignorant whelp!
I gave you the Bible, the Torah and Koran,
But you were too arrogant to understand.

“I told you to honor your neighbors and wives,
Not to enslave them, or degrade their lives!
You invoke My name to sanction your deeds,
But you are the last thing that this world needs.

“And so, I’ll send you and bin Laden to Hell.”
The last words I heard, as the bombs fell,
Were from George Bush himself as he mounted the wall,
“One nation, under God, with liberty and justice for all!”

Taliban Trap

A large group of Taliban soldiers are moving down a road when they hear a voice call from behind a sand-dune. “One American Marine is better than ten Taliban.” The Taliban commander quickly sends 10 of his best soldiers over the dune where upon a gun-battle breaks out and continues for a few minutes, then silence.

The voice then calls out “One American Marine is better than one hundred Taliban.” Furious, the Taliban commander sends his next best 100 troops over the dune and instantly a huge gunfight commences. After 10 minutes of battle, again silence.

The American voice calls out again, “One American Marine is better than one thousand Taliban.” The enraged Taliban Commander musters one thousand fighters and sends them across the dune. Cannon, rocket and machine gun fire ring out as a huge battle is fought. Then silence.

Eventually one wounded Taliban fighter crawls back over the dune and with his dying words tells his commander… “Don’t send any more men, it’s a trap. There are actually two of them.”

Peace Talks

Osama Bin Laden and George W. meet up in a remote Afghani village for the first round of talks in a new peace process. When Bush sits down, he notices 3 buttons on the side of Osama’s chair. They begin talking. After about 5 minutes, Osama presses the first button. A boxing glove springs out of a box on the desk and punches Bush in the face. Confused, Bush carries on talking as Osama laughs.

A few minutes later the second button is pressed. This time a big boot comes out and kicks Bush in the shin. Again Osama laughs, and again Bush carries on talking, not wanting to put off the bigger issue of peace between the 2 countries.

But when the third button is pressed and another boot comes out and kicks Bush in the privates, he’s finally had enough, knowing that he can’t do much without them functioning well. “I’m going back home!” he tells the Arab. “We’ll finish these talks in two weeks!”

A fortnight passes and Osama flies to the Guantanamo Bay for talks. As the 2 men sit down, Osama notices 3 buttons on Bush’s chair and prepares himself for the Yank’s revenge. They begin talking and George W. presses the first button. Osama ducks, but nothing happens. Bush snickers. A few seconds later he presses the second button. Osama jumps up, but again nothing happens. George roars with laughter. When the third button is pressed, Osama jumps up again, and again nothing happens. Bush falls on the floor in a fit of hysterics.

“Forget this,” says Osama. “I’m going back to Afghanistan!”

Bush then says through tears of laughter, “What Afghanistan?”

Your Nation is Calling!!!

There is no limit to what one can do for their country!!

Your Nation is calling!!!!

The President has asked that we unite for a common cause. Since the hard line Islamic people can not tolerate nudity, and consider it a sin to see a naked woman that is not their wife …

Tomorrow night at 7:00, all women should run out of their house naked. Those who turn their heads are likely terrorists and we can identify them quickly.

The United States appreciates your efforts, and applauds you.

God bless America.

Osama Bin Laden, Your Time is Short!

Osama Bin Laden, your time is short;
We’d rather you die, than come to court.
Why are you hiding if it was in God’s name?
Your just a punk with a turban; a pathetic shame.

I have a question, about your theory and laws;
“How come you never die for the cause?”
Is it because you’re a coward who counts on others?
Well here in America, we stand by our brothers.

As is usual, you failed in your mission;
If you expected pure chaos, you can keep on wishin’
Americans are now focused and stronger than ever;
Your death has become our next endeavor.

What you tried to kill, doesn’t live in our walls;
It’s not in buildings or shopping malls.
If all of our structures came crashing down;
It would still be there, safe and sound.

Because pride and courage can’t be destroyed;
Even if the towers leave a deep void.
We’ll band together and fill the holes
We’ll bury our dead and bless their souls.

But then our energy will focus on you;
And you’ll feel the wrath of the Red, White and Blue.
So slither and hide like a snake in the grass;
Because America’s coming to kick your ass!!!

Ever Wonder?

Everyone seems to be wondering why Muslim terrorists are so quick to commit suicide. Let’s see now.

  • No beer,
    No booze,
    No bars,
    No television,
    No cheerleaders,
    No baseball,
    No football,
    No basketball,
    No hockey,
    No golf,
    No tailgate parties,
    No Hooters,
    No pork BBQ,
    No hot dogs,
    No burgers,
    No lobster, shellfish, or even frozen fish sticks,
    No chocolate chip cookies,
    No Christmas.
  • They wear rags for clothes, towels for hats.
  • Constant wailing from the guy next door because he is sick and there are no doctors.
  • 24 hour wailing from a guy in the tower.
  • You can’t shave, your wife can’t shave.
  • You can’t shower to wash off the smell of donkey cooked over burning camel dung.
  • The women have to wear baggy dresses, and veils at all times.
  • Your bride is picked by someone else, she smells just like your donkey, but your donkey has a better disposition.
  • Then they tell you when you die it all gets better.


Dog Fight

George W. Bush and Osama decided to settle the war once and for all. They sat down and decided to settle the whole dispute with one big dog fight.

They agreed that they would have five years to breed the best fighting dogs in the world and whose dog won would be entitled to dominate the world.

Osama and his dog handler Mohammed found the biggest, meanest Dobermans and Rottweilers in the world, then bred them with the biggest, meanest Siberian wolves they could find. From the litters, they selected the biggest and strongest puppy and trained it day and night to fight to the death.

After five years Osama and Mohammed came up with the biggest, meanest dog the world had ever seen. Its cage needed steel bars that were five inches thick and nobody could get near it.

When the day came for the dog fight, George and his dog handler Boudreaux showed up with a nine foot long Dachshund. It was the strangest looking dog anyone had ever seen. Boudreaux said it was a Cajun Dachshund.

Everyone felt sorry for George and Boudreaux because they knew there was no way that this poor excuse for a dog could possibly last 10 seconds with Osama’s big, mean animal.

When the cages were opened up, the Dachshund slowly came out of its cage, wagged its tail, then waddled over towards Osama’s dog. The Doberman/Rottweiler/Wolf snarled and leaped out of its cage, then charged the poor Dachshund.

But when it got close enough to bite the Dachshund’s neck, the Dachshund opened its mouth and ate Osama’s dog in one bite. There was nothing left at all of the snarling beast.

Osama came up to George and Boudreaux shaking his head in disbelief. “We don’t understand how this could have happened. We had our best people working for five years with the biggest, meanest Dobermans and Rottweilers, and the biggest, meanest Siberian wolves in the world. How did you do this?”

“Da’s easy,” said Boudreaux the Cajun. “We ‘ad our bess plasic surgins workin’ fo’ five year for to make dat alligator look like a weenie dog.”

Memo from the Cave

Monday, December 26, 2001 8:17 AM
To: Cavemates
From: Bin Laden, Osama
Subject: The Cave

Hi guys. We’ve all been putting in long hours but we’ve really come together as a group and I love that. Big thanks to Omar for putting up the poster that says: “There is no ‘I’ in team” as well as the one that says “Hang In There, Baby.”

That cat is hilarious. However, while we are fighting a jihad, we can’t forget to take care of the cave. And frankly, I have a few concerns…

First of all, while it’s good to be concerned about cruise missiles, we should be even more concerned about the scorpions in our cave. Hey, you don’t want to be stung and neither do I, so we need to sweep the cave daily.

I’ve posted a sign up sheet near the main cave opening. Second, it’s not often I make a video address but when I do, I’m trying to scare the most powerful country on earth, okay? That means that while we’re taping, please do not ride your razor scooter in the background. Just while we’re taping. Thanks.

Third point, and this is a touchy one. As you know, by edict, we’re not supposed to shave our beards. But I need everyone to just think hygiene, especially after mealtime. We’re all in this together.

Fourth: food. I bought a box of Cheez-Its recently, clearly wrote “Osama” on the front, and put it on the top shelf. Today, my Cheez-Its were gone. Consideration. That’s all I’m saying.

Finally, we’ve heard that there may be American soldiers in disguise trying to infiltrate our ranks. I want to set up patrols to look for them. First patrol will be Omar, Muhammed, Abdul, Akbar, Eric and Bob.

Love you lots.

“O” or “U”
Whatever my name starts with…

The Coded Message

After numerous rounds of ‘We don’t even know if bin Laden is still alive’, bin Laden decides to send George W. a letter in his own writing to let him know that he is still in the game.

Bush opens the letter and sees only a coded message: “370HSSV-0773H”. He can’t figure it out, so he asks Karl Rove.

Rove suggests that the head of the CIA would certainly understand code, so Bush sends it to George Tenet. Tenet, however, can’t figure it out, either. He suggests, “How about Condi? She has a doctorate, that means she’s smart.”

But Dr. Rice is baffled, too. As Bush is pondering the mysterious message lying on the desk before him, Colin Powell enters the Oval Office. When he sees the paper and reads what is written on it, he asks, “Sir, where did that come from?”

Bush replies testily, “Supposedly it’s a message from Osama bin Laden. But what the hell does ‘370HSSV-0773H’ mean?”

Powell clears his throat and replies, “Mr. President, I think you’ve been looking at the message upside down.”