Freudian Islam: the Shame of Veggies (Peas Be Up In Him)

Phil the Happy Phallus

For you and me, a European cucumber, a pair of apples, and throw in some sprouts, we have some of the makings of a salad. For Saudi Arabian Muslims, we have a very large penis, pink testicles, and pubic hair. For us, a banana, for them a phallus. For us, a banana split, for them, well, you get it. An article in el-Senousa News featured this guy, a Muslim cleric, in a recent article about fruits and vegetables and how they can be, well, sexually stimulating to men with minds that get sexually stimulated over the removal of a bandaid.

Sex Orgy

No kidding--an Islamic cleric living in Erurope gets turned on when Muslim women, even those shrouded in complete burqas, touch these items with their naked hands. Knowing what it does to him, he is concerned that all Muslim men are susceptible to the fruitful caresses of women when they go shopping. The cleric sees phalluses everywhere, and they become his phallus when women make salad. And Allah forbid they have to cut them up to serve--it hurts so bad--so they must have their husband, brother, or son do the job, because this cleric believes that all Muslim men are like him, and this would cause them to "go zucchini." 

Jihad Joe--1st Chapter in my Novel

Chapter 1

New York City

   The mall overflowed with Christmas shoppers, teens looking to connect with other teens, husbands looking for gifts for their wives, women looking for something to get their man, and the mall lizards who hang out in malls to check out the action. Christmas music played in overhead speakers; an old, familiar, Nat King Cole tune about chestnuts roasting on an open fire.   The fast food joint was abuzz with laughter, conversation, and children making children sounds.  A young man sat alone at a table close to the order counter where four college kids served burgers and fries with soft drinks.  The young man wore an oversized yellow ski jacket and was sweating profusely, but ironically, it wasn't very hot in the restaurant.  Nobody noticed the young man moving his lips, talking to himself, nor that his hands were balled up into fists.  He looked benign, harmless, like the kind of young man who never dated, or had even spoken to a girl, and for whom smiling was painful.  

    At an adjacent table by the young man, a four year old blond haired girl in pink ski pants, furry snow boots, and white cotton sweater was eating a chocolate ice cream cone as Mommy wiped her busy face.  Her name was Samantha and she didn't know it, but her Daddy was at another store buying her a doll for Christmas while Mommy distracted her with love.

   Suddenly, the man in the yellow ski jacket stood up on the seat of his chair.  Samantha looked up at him and saw that he had a book in one hand and held it up above his head--it was a pretty book with a fancy design on the cover--and he held something on his chest in his other hand, and he began to shout, "Allahu Akbar!  Allahu Akbar!"  Then there was a bright light.

   Samantha was closest to the blast and was instantly decapitated as her mother's carotid artery was severed along with most of her neck.  They never felt a thing. In fact, they didn't have time to actually hear the blast when the suicide bomber pulled the detonator cord.  Carpentry nails and ball bearings flew faster than the speed of sound in every direction, taking out eyes and shredding through limbs of the food store customers.  The college kids behind the serving counter died more slowly as their internal organs were pierced by shrapnel. The screams of the injured were terrifying as people, covered in blood, ran for their lives.  But the worst was over for now and when the panic subsided and the smoke cleared, there were fourteen dead, twenty three wounded, and hundreds of Christmas shoppers terrified.  This religious act of faith, this act of jihad, was over in less than ten seconds.

   Muhannad and Aaqib wore cleaning crew uniforms as they waited patiently in the washroom when they heard the blast.  Within minutes the police, fire department, and EMS arrived.  A triage was quickly set up in the mall walkway where some of the victims being treated stared in shock at the carnage.  Pieces of the suicide bomber and his victims were scattered on the floor, walls, and the ceiling.  A frightened man ran to the carnage and saw his dead wife and decapitated child.  His screams were horrible and disturbing and an EMS worker had to sedate him.

   Muhannad tapped Aaqib on the shoulder and nodded toward the door to indicate that it was time; Mansoor had done his job and was already in Paradise.  The men ran out of the washroom and immediately began firing into the dazed crowd with AK47s.  “Allahu Akbar!  Allahu Akbar! Allahu Akbar!”  They screamed as shots rang out; people began to fall, while some tried to run, only to be shot in the back.  “God is great!” Aaqib shouted in English as he shot a policeman several times in the face, just as he was about to fire on them.  This gave Aaqib a wonderful thrill, to kill an infidel for Allah. 

   Two more cops caught rounds in the torso and fell mortally wounded. The man who had lost his wife and child got up and charged at the terrorists and was shot in the chest and face at least a dozen times; he died before he hit the floor.

   

   Muhannad and Aaqib knew there wasn't much time before the odds would be against them once reinforcements arrived.  They ran to the end of the corridor, removed their coveralls, cleaning-crew uniforms, and grabbed hooded sweatshirts and ski jackets that were hidden in the emergency stairwell.  By the time they ran down the two flights of stairs and reached the street, they looked like a couple of middle class Middle Eastern youths out for fun in the city—and for them, this was fun. 

   Blending into the crowd was easy--the neighborhood was multicultural.

Jihad Joe: terrorism returns to New York.

Jihad Joe Soft Cover          

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Al-Awlaki Gets His Virgins Earlier Than He Expected

Calling all virgins

Schmutz happens. It's especially nice when it happens to lizard-brains like Anwar al-Awlaki, the American-born jihadist who was responsible for recruiting such scumbags as Nadal Hasan of Fort Hood fame, Umar Farouk Abdul Mutallab of flaming balls of fire fame, and many others, too stupid and evil to mention. Now we have liberals, as well as Ron Paul, and Gary Johnson who worry that the poor guy didn't have the opportunity of having a fair trial and killing him was unconstitutional. 

Death drones on

I understand that the Constitution is the law of the land. It is the best government document along with the Bill of Rights, ever written. The fact that Awlaki was killed without due process of law simply means we are not correctly interpreting the law, or the law needs to be tweaked as times have changed. I suggest that anyone, American or foreign born, who actively seeks to kill Americans for the sake of a religious or political agenda, is an enemy of the state and a military combatant. If this person is an American, it stands to reason he or she is committing treason and treason should be grounds for excommunication of citizenship and all civil liberties that go with it.The legal mumbo jumbo that liberals tout as reasons to allow terrorists to continue committing terrorism, while they hold hands and sing kumbayah, is what gets innocent people killed. 

Secret pals

Awlaki and his cohort scumbags deserve to have the same justice dealt upon them as they called for to be dealt upon our innocent victims. We need to see terrorism as a real war--not a war on terror, since you can't have a war on a tactic, but a war on Islamic extremists. I have to give Obama kudos for this one--while he slept, a drone took out some garbage. Obama will get the credit, and that's okay with me--if it was a Republican in office, I would have given that person the credit too, so I cannot take it away from our king in chief.


But we cannot stop here. We need to know that we are at the cusp of a giant jihad that will continue to affect the world. We cannot pretend that our enemy are a few misguided people. The enemy is the orthodoxy of a religion, that, when practiced in orthodox style, is perverse..

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