Terrorists in my bar, dammit
Last night, up late and out, pontificating as per the norm. Location: my favorite saloon. Discussion: how cool Israel is, as we come up on the 40th year anniversary of the Six Day War. For those of you from Minnesota, the Six Day War was when the Israelis stomped the shit out of all the Arab countries who chose to participate. Sinai? Screw you Egypt. East Jerusalem? We'll take that back, thanks so much, Jordan. The Golan? Buff my scrotum, Syria. And on and on. Effin' A, B, C, and D.
But in the booth behind us was an Arab woman (I found out her ethnicity after the fact--note, picture at left: this is not the Arab woman in the bar. The woman in the photo isn't even Arab. I just felt a groin-based urge to post a photo of Jessica Alba). So this Arab rigazza, she overheard everything being said and got worked up. Apparently I was making deprecating remarks about "her people", though in fact I was being more complimentary of the IDF than anything else.We ignored our likely suicide bomber until she actually got up and came over to us and started in with the "you don't know what you're talking about" and "you are nothing but a Zionist" stuff.
This tactic, talking directly to me and saying things like this, unleashes inside of your Nigel a heaping helping of watch out here comes the vitriol. So I told her:
- to go fuck herself (with the help of a camel)
- she should feel right at home here in our little bar because the ladies room is always out of toilet paper--ergo, she could wipe her ass with her hand, as Arabs are wont to do.
- all her bomb-making relatives would be interested to know that she was in a bar, drinking Koran-forbidden demon alcohol Captain Morgan (peace be upon him). Wouldn't they?
posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 10:46 AM
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