Saturday, August 23, 2008

Dances With Hoochies While Wing'n It

Today, I heard a commentary in regards to a recent string of
Kevin Costner Box Office Bombs.
Perhaps, the plots have been all wrong?
Perhaps, the story needs to be of a man who

"Dances With Hoochies To Oldies"

That story goes something like this,

Setting: Urban
Period: Modern day USA

One day, an agent of the U.S. government from the eastern part of the country, was sent to Southern California on horseback.
He arrived at his destination in the wee hours of a still darkened morning.
Thus, not a soul was to be seen anywhere. It seemed as though it was a deserted ghost metropolis of never ending asphalt and concrete.
Soon after, he found himself upon the all dirt, grassless front yard of an abandoned, boarded up, condemned, inner city, ghetto house.

He decides this must be the inconspicuously discreet abode of which his commander had explained, would be the provided base of operations.
Through the side gate and in the backyard, he finds a pen which had obviously been previously used to raise and contain
Pit Bulls and fighting cocks.
It would suffice to corral his horse.

Making his way inside, and after putting a match to a candle. He begins to find evidence left behind by his fallen fellow agents whom had been staked out there years before. The evidence was their dried blood from after having been gunned down by the local gang.
The many condom wrappers all over the floor were evidence of that the local teenagers had been staked out there also.

Dawn broke, and then did also three more weeks worth of dawns. Still, no action and no word from headquarters. The only thing he could hear during all that time was the loud sounds of celebrations with blaring trumpets, accordions and tubas during what seemed like every sleepless night. The sound of foreign music, sung in Spanish was so loud that he could hardly hear the nightly neighborhood activities involving gunshots.

Then one day as he was pulling some weeds out back. His horse, being a mare, pissed out the back side and all over him. Soon there after he had taken off all his clothes and was washing down with the garden hose. When suddenly he heard the unmistakable sound of "Cherry Bomb" low rider mufflers. It had to be members of the gang who had gunned down the agents who had previously been staked out there.

Grabbing his pistol he runs out front just as the blinding reflections of rolling sunlight sharply penetrated his eyes after mirroring off of the huge metal flake paint job that made the car look like a giant, wet Dorado jumping out of the ocean while hooked on a fishing line. A dazzling array of colorful mirrored lights that dizzied him until he suddenly found himself with a a multitude of gun muzzles sticking out of the windows and staring him in the face.

Again, his attention was bewilderingly drawn away from the impending danger of the guns. This time not from the colorful mirrored sunlight, nor from the voices coming from within the car saying,
"what the fuck is up with this crazy white boy standing outside all naked like that"? "If my Jefita sees him, I'm going to blast his ass!"
But rather, from the naked Aztec princess with the big giant titties, layed out all over the rear deck of the car.

Finally, between jumping Dorados with hydraulics and chromed spokes and naked pre-Colombian princesses. It proved to be too much cultural shock all at once. He was overcome and fainted right there on the front dirt lawn, in the middle of the hood, butt ass naked with a gun in his hand.

To make a long story short, eventually he convincingly becomes a "white" Mexican American, complete with a palm hair brush, plenty of grey or black shirts, ironed, creased denim pants and the big mustache which he already had. You can say, the mustache was "pre-fab".

Then, while sitting around one day with the elder "Homies" of his gang as they smoked a piece of substance. He noticed a likewise, "White" Mexican American, who happened to be a female and a sexy Hoochie Momma.

The big booty Hoochie, depressed from having been an innocent bystander, years earlier as a 4 yr. old, who was kidnapped by the gang from the hood where she lived and where they had just completed a drive-by. They took her and raised her since she had been left standing on the sidewalk, an orphan after the drive by had killed her parents and everybody else who had been at the front yard birthday party.

It was a really good party, complete with blue tarps, baloons, an inflatable jumper, Birria, beans and rice and Mariachis too. Oh yea, and a big plastic thing full of Budweiser and ice.

She was saved by agent Homie as she attempted to inject a pound of Heroine, when he heroically hurls his ass into the line of fire and intercepts the injection with his left butt cheek. Now, his ass is mad........... about the Hoochie Momma so he marries her "after" a long and painful withdrawal.

Months later, after much fellowship(gang affiliation) while enjoying many tacos and many 30 packs of Budweiser. As a result of he being helplessly seduced by the charming lure of the culturally rich, Mexican way of life........and the big booty Hoochies in the hood. It is inevitably discovered by his former employers at the FBI, that he has defected to a life of loud "drug-smuggler" ballads, Hood Rats and drive-by's.

Finally, as he's confronted by an FBI raid conducted in his gangs turf. In defense of his newly acquired, and beloved, extensively extended Mexican family. He makes that fateful turn onto the road of "no going back", as he blasts a team of agents with a sawed off shotgun.

And they "cruised" happily ever after!

Volleyball Vixens, Venison, Veal & Vodka

Part 3 of the
Titillating Trilogy
Which had been preceded
by
Torturous Interrogations
and
Tittle-Tattling with Tortoises


Practices borrowed from Eejipt, Gordin, and Sowdy Araybeea; and the Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape program that had been created during the primordial cave dwelling period,
as were most other still active
Terro-Head Chopper practices. Such as, the required,
(on pain of declitorization, amongst other anatomical parts) female attire, which is starch-stiff, staunchly restricted to
Thermo-Nuclear High Temperature Torture Chambers.
(Available in a wide and varied selection of colors and sizes)

Colors : (Black)
Sizes : (All-Consuming)

This grievously, ghastly Get-up, is the grizzly, gory, gash griller, gorilla costume of a garment that is worn even when going about their daily chores. Such as water retrieving traveling tasks of tremendously taunting treks, traversing across seemingly endless vast, virtual vistas during vexing, vertigo-inducing voyages. Valiantly visiting the vicinities of vested vandals, vagrants and vigilante villains, whom are visibly, victims of a vegetarian villages' volunteer veterinarians' violently vengeful vendetta vasectomy. They,vying like vicious,verminous vultures with voracious appetites. Volleying a voluminous vomiting of vigorous but vain ventilations of vehemently vile, verbal violations, as if they were voted vertebra voltage vibrations from a vigilantly vocalized, virtuoso violinists' vivid, vibrant verses.

Our vicariously veiled, vagabond venturers with veneered, vulnerable vision, vexing like a vindicative viscous voodoo virus.Vacillatingly veer through venues of void, vertical valleys, vaguely vacated by veritably vanquished vindicated Vietnamese Vaseline vendors, vacationing to Viennese Villas, and viewing their Vatican version, Vicar-vouched Visas as verified by Venetians with violas, piloting Venus' violet vehicles at velocities venerated by vulgar vocabulary, vintage Vette driving, vernacularly gifted ventriloquist Vikings with V-necks and visors. Chasing variegated velvet upholstered voyeurs' vans to be used as vessels for Venezuelan vineyard vinaigrette, and vital vaccines,
vowed to be used versus a very virulent version of vipers' venom
from a last vestige of vampires.


In the midst of all this,
still they endured volcanically vicious, volatile
vaginal vinegar vaporizing, varicose vein making,
VHF XXX Video Viewing,
Hell-uv-ah Hell-Bent Hellacious Heat.

Which was on the verge of victoriously vanishing the vivacious and
virtuously vogue, voluptuous virgins. As they aspired to be
vocational volleyball vixens, enjoying venison, veal and vodka.

The End

Friday, August 22, 2008

Osama's Been Laden with Foreign Policy!

I was once asked the question;
What Is Osama Bin Ladens Foreign Policy?
The following is my answer!



To impose heavy tariffs on all foreign automobiles imported into Tora Bora, which will be sold at the local auto cave dealerships. Including the many dealers which use marketing gimmicks designed to convey the appearance of that excitement and festive celebration is taking place at the dealership. They give a promise of that a party is going on. Gimmicks such as giant inflatable, decapitated, infidels. Used to lure the many local would be, "purchaser" goat traders.

These tariffs will protect the local, domestic camel trading post industry. Tora Boras camel breeding and manufacturing industry has, in recent times, been greatly affected from a huge slump in Camel trade "sales".

Bin Laden is adamant about his decision, since having determined that the camel hump, sales slump is due to the popularity of the technologicaly advanced, computer controled, Japanese made, mechanical camels.

The regions population of terro-training camp, camel enthusiasts, have been said to be "head over red & white checkered table cloths" about Japans recent "bio-techno-breeding" advances. They have resulted in the new generation of "Mechano-Camels" that are equipped with the latest "Techno-Camel" contraptions which excel in the area of off road camel traction and stability.

The optionally available, camouflaged "Camobile", is delivered complete with gun mounts on the hump which are especially designed to accommodate the AK-47. However, since the chambering of one more round into the AK will not be the one to break any camels back. This beasts success has really been due to the terro-mountain terrain, conquering abilities of the new "four camel toe", drive system.

With camel "automobio-tech" innovations like these from Japan, Tora Boras domestic, camel breeding, production dusty corral plants. Which were already looking at a terrifying,(even to terrorists) dauntingly looming, mother of all camel humps, sales slump. A slump of who's hump was already one of which it was highly improbable that it would be overcome. But more likely to leave the regions hump vendors in a terrible terro-camp sales slump dump.........forever!

This collapse of the small region's meek, "reek n stink", spit fling'n, camel breeding industry is inevitable. Even when one takes into consideration, that the one single most attractive, selling point feature of the domestic Tora Bora camels is their legendary fuel efficiency. One which Averages 25mpg(mountain peaks per gulp) even on low grade, third world, Islamo-fascist government, Muslim country water.

Though historically, this has been a strong selling point. It is now being one-up'd by the Japanese camels' amazing 8mpg(men per gunner) killing average. In Tora Bora, kills are valued much more that mountain peaks traversed. Thus, 8 is far greater than 25 according to the reasoning and mathematics of a terro-camp trainee.

This holds true, even though the watering hole, fuel gulping "stations", are often times little more than a "camel reclaim" refill. However, camel reclaim is quite pleasing to the regions camel enthusiast, AK jousting jockey's. Who's non-existent checkbooks, benefit from the additional efficiency attained through the recycling of this most precious resource/fuel.

An additional problem is that regions water is often times polluted with munitions materials. Due to the many camps which house, or cave, many terro-trainees who go fishing with shoulder mounted rocket launchers. Fishing methods which gave rise to the local peoples entertainment mockeries. Telling of how, if the enthusiasts were as efficient as their camels. They might average considerably more than the usual, 2 Bluegills and a not so innocent bystander, per rocket.
The Japanese Robo-Camel companies launched a clever marketing campaign, making use of Tora Bora's already existent communications industry. The industry consisting of cave production, propaganda threat and successful terro-activity celebration videos. As well as the various media outlets which produce and distribute the regions wildly popular, "Piously Grateful", decapitation videos.

Not satisfied with just video, the strategy also included audio commercials, heard throughout the region seven times a day. Blaring out from the consistently and repeatedly placed authoritarian loud speakers, which are reminiscent of the sensationalist speaking, Soviet "screamers".

Commercials were heard at the tail end of the usual announcements and were presented as the sponsorship which made possible the calls for the peoples gathering to commence the "Initiation of Prostration" at the "Head-bangers" ground pounder palace.

Not failing to consider all of the possible "brain busting" buyers, Japan's "Camevehicular" manufacturers had announced the soon to come, variations of the all-terrain "Terro-Transporter". Whereas early production models were designed with the young, energetic, performance demanding, reckless abandon of the exuberantly explosive, future fanatics sport'n TNT vests.

The newly announced models will be targeting the slightly less youthful, more reserved, less danger seeking head chopper, and or, school bus bomber. One whom might have himself proudly procreated a half dozen or so, little terrors in their terrible 2's, 3's, 4's, 5's, 6's......................75's

Japan's manufacturers, knowing that the terror never ends, will be exporting brand spank'n and spit'n new camels to Tora Bora's livestock trading posts. Arriving will be the first wave of family sedan, two hump configuration models. Just to never let them forget that it was all of those humps which got them into that predicament in the first place.

With the cameo appearance of Japans camoflauged "Mechano-Camo-Camels", producing performance numbers like the terrifically "Terro-Impressive" 8mpg. Its not surprising that Tora Bora's cave dwelling, camel consumers have vowed, made oaths, and sworne, even upon the sandy graves of their own future celebrity, Super Suic-Star Martyrdom Status. That they would ensure themselves possession of the "Land of the Rising Sun's", "Infadel Anhialators". Even if they themselves had to piss on them.

Despite all of their woeful water issues, and the rigors of on the job demands. Still the all-terrain, terro-transporters continue to dependably deliver all the performance neccesary to provide their anonymously masked masters with the off duty enjoyment of leisurely pass-times. Including desert race classics like:
The Desert Dwellers', Daily Double Header, Better Beheader.
The Sicker Saber Slasher, Killer Stick, Pick Six,
and the all time psychofascist favorite,
The "Are Those Really, Eighty Isreali?",
"You Pick Nine, The Rest Are Mine"!