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Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
REDIRECT ALERT! (Scroll down past this mess if you're trying to read an archived post. Thanks. No, really, thanks.) Due to my inability to control my temper and complacently accept continued silliness with not-quite-as-reliable-as-it-ought-to-be Blogger/Blogspot, your beloved Possumblog will now waddle across the Information Dirt Road and park its prehensile tail at http://possumblog.mu.nu. This site will remain in place as a backup in case Munuvia gets hit by a bus or something, but I don't think they have as much trouble with this as some places do. ::cough::blogspot::cough:: So click here and adjust your links. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it's one of those things. Tuesday, November 19, 2002
Young Arab breaches security at Stansted Airport The Associated PressSo this is what it’s come to—from the pervasive fear of al-Quaida, to the Shoe Bomber, to the Cockpit Pisser. How sad. What’s next?—[insert dreamy sounding music--fade to small bungalow on outskirts of major city] Hakim, our brother Josef Monti has struck a mighty blow against the Zionists with their effrontery to fly through the houri-filled blue skies of Allah, so we too must do our part, praise Allah. What is it you propose, beloved brother Achmet? Thank you for asking—I have the secret weapon feared by all filthy whores of Satan—into this paper bag, I have placed the leavings of vicious unclean mongrel dogs. Upon the doorstep of the Great Satan, I will place this and call down avenging fire upon the sack using this Zippo I stole from the Jew store, and when the vile bastard child of Satan opens his door, he will soil his already filthy shoes as he tries in vain to quench the ever-burning fire of judgment! ::gasp:: Brother Achmet! You are so brilliant in your quest—you didn’t put your fingers on the dog poopies did you? No, of course not. I made my daughter do it. Very clever—what great angel of Satan will you strike—The FBI? The CIA? The Postal Offices? Well, Hakim, a fine and learned question you have asked. The vicious Jewlovers have much power of the djin to do harm to me, and although I glory in martydom, I do not wish to enter Paradise with large portions of my ample, swelling haunches shot away by the blind pigs of Satan, so I was thinking this weapon should be unleashed upon someone more deserving of punishment. Possibly the evil whore dog woman known as Wendy the Weathergirl from the Zionist Channel 8, inshallah. Ah, again a clever thing to do, and as you also, I do not wish to see your firm and manly hinder regions damaged. When will you do this great deed? Right now, my brother—I have carefully mapped out my route to the lair of the vile scum woman, and I now will call upon Allah to guide my hand steadily as I light the bag. But, Achmet… Silence brother Hakim! —BUT ACHMET, should you not wait… AHHHHHHAHHHHHHHH THE BAG!! IT IS ON FIRE!!!! AAAAAAHHHHHHHGHHHH STOMP IT STOMP IT! You know, Achmet, your wife is going to be very angry about the burnt poopies upon the carpets of the house. Shut up, Hakim.
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