a little poetry
Kandahar.
They bombed our biggest dicks! I mean, sure, we've got tons of other dicks, but nothing compared with those two. Those were the tallest, the biggest, those were the Prime Dicks, they were Dick 1 and Dick 2, and now they're gone! (Not to mention the much smaller Dick 7 and some of the other surrounding dicks). Why would anyone want to bomb our biggest dicks? Those dicks were tall and proud and strong? They stood for freedom and democracy! They were symbols of truth and justice! But we will not let the killers win! We will re-erect our twin monuments!
God that Afghani woman on the cover National Geographic is HOT! I mean look at those eyes, a real tiger, a real babe. Look at those beautiful eyes! Those are eyes that say: "Please stop bombing my people, our children are dying, please don't put another fascist puppet government in charge of our country, please care more about people than about oil, please be human, please be decent."
Oh what a tiger, what a babe, what a hottie. Those luscious eyes, they say to me: "If you stay on the 6 train long enough, it will take you to Kandahar. Wake up in the rubble, walk among the corpses. It's just across the river. Poverty. Destruction. Maybe after you take care of your own children, then you will find time to consider ours."
