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: November 2001: Muslim Girls Turn Me On |
Men
are in charge of women, because Allah has preferred men
over women....As to those women on whose part ye fear
disloyalty and ill-conduct, admonish them; banish them
to their couches and beat them.
If
a man and a woman are alone in one place, the third person
present is the devil.
These
are days of moral decline and spiritual malaise for the
 West,
what with compulsory lesbianism among grade-school girls,
not to mention lotsa slobbering, sourpussed, clit-stapled,
hairy-pitted female bulldoggies who never resolved their
daddy issues hanging around all the places where I like
to buy coffee.
There
are no dykes in Afghanistan, and that's reason enough
to move there.
Chicks
are ruining the West. Over here in this neck of the world,
a sloppy Goddess Goulash stinks up the skies...while the
Middle East, with its well-endowed macho God, starts to
smell like paradise.
Wherefore
art thou going, O wayward Western woman?
The
Western woman has become defiled.
The
Western woman has lost her soul amid the godless quest
for mammon.
The
Western woman has gotten all uppity and stuff, always
ordering the most expensive desserts when you take her
out to dinner.
The
Western woman does not realize that there is no higher
satisfaction for a woman than to please Allah.
Here
in the land of the Great Satan, we extol feminine character
traits, and yet we still expect to win a war against our
unflinchingly butch enemy.
The
man who falls prey to feminine wiles is no man at all.
Those  Muslims
know that once you surrender your mighty natural-born
male-warrior spirit to female charms, you become a pathetic,
undignified cuckold. You become an unmanly lad. What's
worse, you incur the wrath of Allah, who's really hard
to deal with when he's pissed.
Women
have desires that have to be fully suppressed lest they
lure the righteous believer into the pits of hell. Whorish
immorality is the natural female state. Observe how the
four-year-old girl rubs her crotch up against the coffee
table while you have guests over, and you'll agree with
my premise here. Once a woman realizes she is capable
of sexual pleasure, she becomes vexatious and troublesome
to the righteous man. You get her started, and a few weeks
later she's gobblin' chubby strangers' cocks in piss-encrusted
truck-stop bathrooms, and that's not cool. That's not
cool at all.
Unlike
the vaguely faggy virgin Jesus, the Prophet Muhammad
was a stud-muffin. Hung like Allah, too, I'll bet. Here
was a religious leader with a robust enjoyment of carnal
delights. He liked 'em young and tight. He liked 'em
old and loose. He liked 'em, period. But he didn't like
'em if they had their period, 'coz that's disgusting.
While the homo Christ chose to laze around with twelve
other males, Muhammad plowed through at least a dozen
wives, plus scads of hot, horny slave chicks. He married
a six-year-old girl when he was 51. He died at 62 on
the lap of a 17-year-old bride. A true pimp daddy, Muhammad
was. The Original Gangsta.
"Suddenly I'm
transported to a harem tent filled with big
fluffy pillows, hash-filled hookahs, and totally hot
chicks in silk costumes who
wanna blow me."
And
his followers were nearly as burly as the Prophet himself.
His cousin Ali wisely stated that "The entire woman
is evil....Men, never ever obey your women....They complain
of being oppressed when in fact it is they who oppress."
Omar, Islam's second caliph, counseled Muslim guys to
"Adopt positions opposite those of women. There is great
merit in such opposition." Indeed, these were men of
great wisdom and holiness. Righteous bro's. Ain't no
fun if the homies can't have none!
And
I want some. I want some sultry Saudi sirens. Some cock-hungry
Kuwaiti cuties. A classy Pakistani lassie with a sassy
chassis.
The
Muslim girl oozes mystery. She teases, tempts, and tantalizes.
She keeps her mouth shut, too, or they'll cut off her
tongue. All that repression is simply irresistible to
me. Her delicious subservience. The way she does what
she's told. The way she understands that all these rules
are for her own good. Think of all the repression which
has been crammed into her swarthy body. Think of all
that coiled libidinal energy, a hundred times more pent-up
than in the most guilt-stricken Catholic girl. Think
of how fun it would be to fuck all that repression out
of her.
Suddenly
I'm transported to a harem tent filled with big fluffy
pillows, hash-filled hookahs, and totally hot chicks
in silk costumes who wanna blow me. A summery breeze
floats in from the oil fields. The smell of cocoa butter
and fig newtons intoxicates my nostrils. A big, sopping,
matted, goat-herd shrub waits nestled between her legs.
She's
wrapped up like a mummy, peeking out from the slit
in her burqa. I watch lustfully as it takes
her four hours to get all those clothes off. I sniff
her Islamic vagina. Tweak her Quranic nipples. Poke
my finger inside her Middle Eastern anus. Go on a
Crusade 'tween her legs. Invade the Holy Land. A hummus-like
paste forms between her thighs. When I finally insert
my falafel, she  shrieks
with delight.
Happy
Arabian boners pop across the Middle East. Millions
of brown, hairy nutsacks tighten in unison. Proud
Muslim girls hoist their lovers' cocks like AK-47s.
Muslim women ... YES! ... Muslim women... NOW! ...
Muslim women ... GROOVY! ... Muslim women ... FUNKY
FRESH!
I
want to take her home and tell her to do things. Vacuum
that carpet, Muslim girl! Fetch me a hoagie and some
cold lemonade, thou handmaiden of the One True Prophet!
Keep your olive-colored bazooms tightly under wraps,
Muslim girl. Stay in the house, Muslim girl. Stay
ignorant. Stay preggers. Stay down. Down, girl, down!
The
word "Islam" translates literally as "submission."
God wants us to keep the wimmens down with head scarves
and clitoridectomies and ceaseless beatings. Shred
and sew up their genitals in order to contain their
relentless, meandering lust. Righteous men nod approvingly
as Revolutionary Guardsmen disfigure the faces of
women who've worn makeup. Wives suspected of immorality
are doused with gasoline and torched to a crisp. Thousands
of randy Muslim bucks cheer and laugh as sin-stained
women are herded into stadiums for public floggings.
Islam
offers several advantages for the believing man's
enjoyment, almost all of them sexual. On Earth, a
Muslim man can marry up to four wives at once. In
heaven, he is greeted with a minimum of seventy-two
submissive virgins poised to please him eternally...seventy-two
Muslim broads who never break a sweat, never age,
never get their periods, and never tell you to take
out the trash. In paradise, a man is given the sex
drive of a hundred men. It's like Islamic Viagra!
Lo! My Penis is ever High, Exalted, Great.
The
Holy Quran advises us: "Men, your wives are your tillage.
Go into your tillage any way you want." I think that
means the Hershey Highway is OK with God. If you were
so inclined, you could probably get away with the
Dirty Sanchez and the Dutch Oven, too.
The
more I hear about Islam, the more I like it. Islam
is such a cool, violent, sexy religion! Islam rocks!
Those Islams is good people. Those Muslims know how
to keep their bitches in line!
And
I ask the nonbelievers...what's so wrong with
all of that? And I wonder...are we really on the right
side in this war? It is a war of gender philosophies
that we're fighting, and we may be on the wrong side,
dudes. The Western man would be wise to take a second
look at Islam, if only for the chicks.
Would
you be willing to trade some of our cherished freedoms
for the right to enslave and abuse women? When one
ponders all the sexy perks offered to Muslim men,
it becomes obvious why they're willing to die for
their faith.
The
attack on the Twin Towers was intrinsically phallic
in its symbolism. Woe unto the emasculated Western
Man, mocked by his women as he drools and begs for
sex. Woe unto the West, where women dominate and the
culture falls apart. The West will fall because it
is pussy-whipped. We may have
the money and the technology, but we just don't have
the starch in our
shorts anymore.
However
the winds blow, the war on terrorism will be a good
thing for the American male. If we win the war, we
get their women. If we lose the war, we get to treat
our women like they treat their women.
Who's to complain?
Send all
death threats and anthrax to Jim Goad c/o Exotic.
We really didn't want to print this article, but
Jim's kinda scary, so we didn't really want to say no,
either. But it was all his idea, we swear.
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