Taliban Cafe III

My Jinni's comfort me by serving breakfast and start preparing the opium pipe. I sit there surrounded by infinite exotic pleasure, head in my hands and realize all of this happened for a definite purpose. I am here for a particular reason unknown to me. It's something big-time and ugly for sure, because no one receives this amount of pleasure over a blackjack win unless there's something attached to it. My Jinni's see me in contemplation and tell me that they're very happy to be servants of mine and that they can provide me with anything I desire. I pull on the opium pipe long and hard and ask, "Did I really play blackjack with Dick Cheney and George Herbert Walker Bush?" As the warmth of the opium starts to take hold and overcome me with cool and soothing euphoria, she responds, "By the way, my name is Ophelia and this is my sister Mary-Catherine, and yes, you did play blackjack with Dick, George Sr., Karl Wolfowitz and Donald Rumsfeld. We like to refer to him as Rummy, he's a real bastard!" I immediately apologize for my poor manners and re-light the opium pipe to fulfill my need for some sort of sanity. As I try and make some kind of sense out of all of this madness they bath and dress me in a silk white outfit and paisley designed red velvet robe. It was weird but quite comfortable. I begin to ask them, "Do you hang out withe these degenerate assholes or what?" Mary-Catherine replies, "We were Dick's Jinni's, we had no choice in the matter. He won us in another rigged blackjack game from that little queer Senator Mark Foley, and it's been hell ever since!" I then ask Ophelia, "So you know Dick Cheney personally, his habits, likes, and dislikes?" She replies, "Oh yes my savior, he's a filthy, careless, degenerate gambler that needs to be stopped!" Tell me more Ophelia. She replies,"He's an annoying narcissistic schmuck that is followed around by a team of medical specialists 24/7, constantly monitoring his heart condition. Their main concern is his poor diet. For breakfast he eats four over easy eggs, one pound of Boars Head bacon, slung corned beef hash saturated in bacon grease, two garlic and onion bagels, smeared with scallion and vegetable cream cheese and washes it all down with a full pot of espresso coffee. His snacks between lunch consist of liberally soaked shrimp toast, mesquite barbecued pork rhines dipped in sour cream and onion sauce, while constantly smoking foot long Cuban cigars while sipping cold opal Sambuca, babbling incoherently regarding impacts on his stocks of oil, gold, and diamond markets." Well this news doesn't surprise me. His diet would make a fawn in the morning dew turn rabid and callous. As the opium pipe is passed around and shared, I ask Mary-Catherine if she would like to corroborate these crazy innuendos. Ophelia, clearly upset yells,"This is not innuendo! We are Jinni's and unfortunately this is the God ugly truth!" I back off as it is obvious they have a lot of frustrations to air regarding Mr. Dick. So I just sit back, smoke heartily and listen. "Go ahead Mary-Catherine, you seem like you have a lot on your mind. I'm all ears." She replies," Ophelia is being nice in regards to Mr. Cheney. He drinks that Opal Sambuca in the afternoons and Cognac at night. He stammers around, drunk and nasty, bitching about his market fluctuations wielding Aldous Huxley's Brave New World, re-reading it in a seduced state of obsessive compulsive disorder. His heroes are Rommel the desert fox, representing military valor. Rasputin for his seductive magnetism, and his great love for Hollywood's American gigolo, now Buddhist convert, Richard Gere. His behavior has reached obscene levels. At times his drunkenness would get so diluted he would beg to get tied up and buggered by Richard Gere impersonators then turn on them, sadistically torturing them by a severe whipping, using the American Flag and a springed Billy as his preferred weapons." "Mr. Cheney is a carnivore drafting the master plan by his High Priest, George Bush Sr." "He gets things done as a pivotal architect in the diabolical dissension into The New World Order! A dedicated, loyal Big Daddy warrior bent on government controlled chaos, anarchy, and destruction! He carries on like he's some immortal Greek God gnawing on blood sausage and Greek olives sucking the Sambuca straight from the bottle spitting the olives pits on his parquet teak wood floor like marbles as his aides break their asses on the pristine waxed flooring." " His aides never complain or speak of him in a disparaging manner. They fear him. Fear is synonymous with respect. Remember, he's Big Daddy's right hand man, completely untouchable as his dirty work is hermetically sealed in the American flag." " Even in hiding he can be spotted in a local D.C. pizza pit, gorging himself with pineapple ricotta cheese slices, dripping grease down his satin tie, throwing the leftover crusts to his loyal gang of Doberman Pincher's that constantly hump the legs of his secret service aides. He is the devil incarnate!"

Taliban Cafe II "Black Jack"

I was awoken by the sweet aroma of smoked opium wafting through the cold cave air where I found myself comfortably warm in a bed of soft, red satin and velvet pillows perfectly positioned to be hand fanned by two exotic looking jinni's smiling. There were beautiful hand crafted tapestries that decorated the ceiling and walls. The lit candles in the room made the shadows flutter as they fanned me smoothly. Italian marble tables held crystal vases that glistened full of wild orchids and gold angelic figurines playing harps in melodic harmonies. I felt wonderfully confused thinking, what have I done to deserve all of this exotic pleasure? Is this a gift, a dream, or have I died and gone to heaven? When I situp from my sleeping position a curtain is unveiled and in comes the Russian waiter spinning his platinum serving tray ornately decorated with hot coffee, fruit, juice, eggs Benedict and a huge ball of opium with all the necessary paraphernalia. Seeing that wild eyed sneer from the waiter jogged my memory a bit and realized I wasn't in heaven, but sure not in hell either. Not as of yet, anyway! I vaguely start to remember some of the previous events. As the waiter turns to leave I ask him, "What the hell happened last night? I blacked out from those margaritas." The waiter replies, "You created quite a stir last night." He yells, " You won big. You raped the 'executive game' and Mr. Cheney almost shot you in the face." "You won his jinni's in the final round of the blackjack game." "After you won you acted like a drunken fool and taunted him. He threw his cognac in your face and whipped out his Walther P.P.K." "Just as he took aim, Big Daddy rifled his raspberry Bartles & Jaymes and cracked Mr Cheney in his frontal lobe, knocking him out cold." "You were a very lucky man last night." "When you feel awoken and refreshed Big Daddy has ordered a sit-down with you. This time you might not be so lucky!"

Memoirs Of Super Patriot Jack Keith Mercenery Status Assignment Taliban Cafe Post 9/11 aka Sterling Christianson

The Marquee flashed in a pulsating psychedelic rhythm of vibrant yellow, green, and red neon lights under the starlit moons bright night here in Kandahar. It read, "Come One, Come All, Welcome To The Taliban Cafe". Gunfire and Tomahawk missile blasts echoed from the distant valley. The putrid stench of rotting flesh and gun powder permeated the steamy air in this lawless dead-zone of Islamic degenerates.

The cafe host greeted me with a red eyed sadistic smile. He then led me to a polished red marble table where I was seated at the patio, gazing above, into the Kandahar stars as the Taliban played horseshoes in camel dung pits which were surrounded by small bonfires. A Russian waiter wearing a red velvet robe handed me a menu and said, "Welcome to the Taliban Cafe, Drink Up! The Taliban Margaritas are laced with opiated crushed ice and poppy stems protrude from atop of our cocktail glasses like celery stalks from your beloved American Bloody Mary's!" I replied, "Hell, I'm impressed! How about a double Banana-Strawberry Margarita, Pronto?" The waiter returned within two minutes spinning a glistening platinum serving tray with the dexterity of a Harlem Globe Trotter, sliding me this radiating elixir of Kandahar Lightning. I pulled on the straw in savage thirst as the potion melted and dripped down my jowls seducing me with luxurious warmth and euphoria.

Feeling a bit more comfortable, I take a curious and altered gaze out to the horseshoe pit where echelon Taliban entertain themselves by coaxing a local boy to fetch an overthrown horseshoe. With not too many choices in the matter, the boy cautiously proceeds through the sand in complete fear then grimaces as the Taliban duck for cover. Kaboom!!!! (Massive explosion) I shudder and see him blown to pieces. Hot flesh, blood, bone and shrapnel smoke clouds my vision. He was just smeared by a 'Bouncing Bettie' while the Taliban belly laugh in a sadistic state of elation. "That was a real hot rod!" Screamed the waiter. The Horror of it all.

Liberally soaking my palette with this frozened warm cafe Margarita, I unblinkingly gaze into the menu. It reads "Smoke the hash and place a cash bet with the Taliban Polo Minister Of Recreation and get the line on the nearest after hours V.I.P. Kandahar, Casino Cave Bar where the deep players dwell." My interest and curiosity was piqued in a state of pure Machiavellian need. I wave to the Russian waiter and he returns smirking while asking, "Would You Like To Place An Order?" In my stupor I reply, "I need to see the The Taliban Polo Minister Of Recreation and request a shuttle to the Kandahar Casino Cave Bar." I peel off a couple hundred from my bill fold then stagger off following another Taliban where they place me in the back seat of a 600 SL Mercedes Benz. In a nearly blacked out state of diluted awareness, we drive off. As we wind through the bomb blasted streets, I can see the locals, hustling goat meat in the market square as Veal Marsala. Beautifully decorated with clove beads, sprigs of parsley and Mary Jane all the while they chain smoke opiated cigar blunts cursing in prayer.

When we arrive through all the layered, interwoven stream of Afghan madness, they lead me to the 'Executive Black Jack' table, where seated to my left was Dick Cheney and seated to my right was the God smacked cavalier, "Big Daddy" (GHWB), our high priest, sipping a Bartle & Jaymes Raspberry wine cooler,enjoying the decadence of Kandahar finest young candy, melting smoothly in a luxurious lap dance of pleasure.

It was a surreal moment. I thought we must be in ancient Babylon with the echelon of the Taliban as I notice Cheney and Big Daddy sporting robes of translucent hemp dress and sweated feet in Topsider leather sandals as the Jukebox blares a fanfare of Greatful Dead songs.

'Fire In The Mountain' was playing. They were also strapped with AK-47's, high tech capsule gas masks, and grenades. It was then I fully realized, It was 'Big Daddy' all the way baby!

Cherry-Apple Martinis, Pink Cocaine And The Insatiable Thirst For Self Sabotage Through Lusty Whore Mongering And Bestial Political Bafoonery

Coupled with a twang of Southern arrogance gliding out of a sharp, silver tongued -- Bastard -- a North Carolina University education, the degenerate tan and pruned pretty-boy-man-child, slithers by like a randy old musty sloth "ridin' hard and put away wet", out of you know who's lusty legs, all lathered up with a fresh scent of pharmaceutical grade, Peruvian Pink Cocaine ....."I love the smell of cocaine in the morning"! Behind his smarmy chuckle and power-entitled mind-set, there's a cruel and vicious carnivore just below the surface being masked by the charade of Mary Kay cosmetics and a well-practiced swagger fashioned, in of course, Italian suits and finely crafted leather shoes. Here lies one super-deceptive and thieving shit-bag you'll ever want to be associated with. You'll always walk away light in your wallet, confused, bewitched and definitely "Had" in a somber state of loss and regret...which could turn violent, adding just one more "neat" Jack Daniels. That's right, Bubba......John Edwards is no doubt a degenerate swine straight out of George towns casting of hyper-delusional characters with no shame seen, so far. A real, no bullshit, dancing fucking bear we've got here. This next segment is part 2 of the rare interview with once presidential hopeful, John Edwards - slick sloth Jonny Boy Blue.

Michele Bachmann Racist Dingbat Extraordinaire

It's a pretty sure bet that most men would rather see Michele Bachmann in a Playboy centerfold layout than the blithering idiot she has become in the GOP race for the presidency. Yes, we know she's out of the race to become President and like in the case with Sarah Palin, she would also function better for us men within the parameters of a Penthouse or Playboy photo shoot. Most, if not all the bullshit that spews out of her vile mouth, is hair-raising and downright on the fringe of insanity. So she didn't get to where she's at now in politics because she went to Harvard or Yale. She's a pretty women with absolutely nothing to offer on an intellectual level. Lets just examine a few quotes from the Queen of idiocy -

"I find it interesting that it was back in the 1970s that the swine flu broke out under another, then under another Democrat president, Jimmy Carter. I'm not blaming this on President Obama, I just think it's an interesting coincidence." -Rep. Michele Bachmann, on the 1976 Swine Flu outbreak that happened when Gerald Ford, a Republican, was president, April 28, 2009 I think she may have failed History 101 and Government 101 in her college days (or nights). *sigh* Moving on...

"Carbon dioxide is portrayed as harmful. But there isn't even one study that can be produced that shows that carbon dioxide is a harmful gas." -Rep. Michelle Bachmann, April, 2009 I guess Science wasn't her forte, either. It gets even better Americans...

"If we took away the minimum wage -- if conceivably it was gone -- we could potentially virtually wipe out unemployment completely because we would be able to offer jobs at whatever level." -Michele Bachmann, Jan. 2005 Looks like Economics wasn't her strong suit, either. Does she even have a college degree?

"Before we get started, let's all say 'Happy Birthday' to Elvis Presley today." -Rep. Michele Bachmann, while campaigning for president in South Carolina on what was actually the anniversary of Elvis's death, Aug. 16, 2011 (Elvis was born on January 8) NOOOOO! Not the King! Don't drag the King of Rock-n-Roll into your silly little incompetent mind.

"It is horrific to know that in the African American community, 50 percent of all African American pregnancies in the United States end in abortion, 50 percent. That is a genocide of African Americans of the United States. It should not be. There are Americans all across this country who would love to adopt African American babies, but they can't because 50 percent of all African American pregnancies today are ending in abortion." What the fuck does that even translate into?

“This is just about waving a tar baby in the air and saying that something else is the problem. I have never seen a more irresponsible president who is infantile in the way that he continually blames everybody else for his failure to, first, diagnose the problem and, second, to address the problem. It’s always everyone else’s fault.” “The president is a complete and utter fraud and a hypocrite on this issue, with all due respect to the president.” OHHHH, now we see. "tar baby"? A poor choice of words or the rambling truths of an insane racist women? But hold on, folks. It gets even better.

"I look at the Scripture and I read it and I take it for what it is. I give more credence in the Scripture as being kind of a timeless word of God to mankind, and I take it for what it is. And I don't think I give as much credence to my own mind, because I see myself as being very limited and very flawed, and lacking in knowledge, and wisdom and understanding. So, I just take the Bible for what it is, I guess, and recognize that I am not a scientist, not trained to be a scientist. I'm not a deep thinker on all of this. I wish I was. I wish I was more knowledgeable, but I'm not a scientist." - Michele Bachmann interviewing with Todd Fiel at KKMS as quoted in the Stillwater Gazette, September 29, 2003. Now you tell me fellow Americans, Presidential material or Playboy material? Well that's a no - brainer! When everything is said and done, I'm sure Hugh Hefner would love to make that phone call.

Afghanistan Heroin Trade Dictates War For Huge Profits

Afghanistan's President, Hamid Karzai and drug-smuggling/arms dealer brother, Ahmed Wali Karzai have been orchestrating one of the largest heroin-smuggling operations, similar to that of the Vietnam heroin-smuggling ring, back in the late 1960's and into the early 1970's. Now heroin-smuggling is no big surprise coming out of Afghanistan considering it's the largest cash crop in the nation. But also the perfect staging ground for manufacturing and transport using Allies aircraft for disbursement to England and Canada. Investigations are ongoing into whether or not there is any US involvement in the transport operations.

Now this kind of news intelligence is never encouraging in this process of "nation-building", but if we're going to supposedly leave Afghanistan, we cannot continue to leave these two blood-sucking brothers in power. Their corruption would be at the very least, NOT in the best interest to Afghans or the United States, purely based upon the high costs and very low progress rating. The possibility of the Talibans return would become very real and highly probable, keeping this endless money train intact if Afghans are not given the individual power to fight back the Taliban. Afghan military is still scattered and weak at best. Karzai wants the Taliban to infiltrate enemy lines and raise hell....it keeps the US in Afghanistan and Karzai in power.

The Newt Factor

As the GOP scrambles to make sense of it all, Newt Gingrich plows through the campaign trail still hurling his vile onslaught of character attacks, insults, insinuations and accusatory outbursts. Like an aging prize fighting Pit-Bull, foaming at the mouth and dragging his full set of blue balls across the country, the very thought of this ugly Nazi beast getting the nod for Republican Presidential nomination is not only dangerously possible, but an exact sign of the Apocalypse. If he doesn't get the nomination, all of this Newt-Barking and school-yard bullying has been an angle to get into the White House as possible VP or even scarier, Secretary of State. What will the GOP do with the Newt factor? Lets face it, in most circles, Newt would be considered for a long prison term, gang beating or better yet, a Donald Rumsfield special - a good old water boarding session.

Now from the pulpit, lets take a minutes and examine a few quotes by this venomous king snake in an effort to get a feel for his moral foundation and direction he would like to take our beloved United States of America.

"If combat means living in a ditch, females have biological problems staying in a ditch for thirty days because they get infections and they don’t have upper body strength. I mean, some do, but they’re relatively rare. On the other hand, men are basically little piglets, you drop them in the ditch, they roll around in it, doesn’t matter, you know. These things are very real. On the other hand, if combat means being on an Aegis-class cruiser managing the computer controls for twelve ships and their rockets, a female may be again dramatically better than a male who gets very, very frustrated sitting in a chair all the time because males are biologically driven to go out and hunt giraffes.” —Newt Gingrich in 1995

"She's not young enough or pretty enough to be the wife of a President. And besides, she has cancer.'" --Newt Gingrich, reportedly speaking to a friend in 1980 about why he was divorcing his first wife.

"There's no question at times of my life, partially driven by how passionately I felt about this country, that I worked far too hard and things happened in my life that were not appropriate." -- Newt Gingrich, explaining in 2011 why he cheated on his first two wives. He carried on the first affair while his wife was suffering from cancer, and the second while he was orchestrating Bill Clinton's impeachment.

"It is tragic what we do in the poorest neighborhoods, entrapping children in child laws which are truly stupid…These schools should get rid of unionized janitors, have one master janitor, pay local students to take care of the school." —Newt Gingrich on abolishing child labor laws "This is something that no liberal wants to deal with," Gingrich said. "Core policies of protecting unionization and bureaucratization against children in the poorest neighborhoods, crippling them by putting them in schools that fail has done more to create income inequality in the United States than any other single policy. It is tragic what we do in the poorest neighborhoods, entrapping children in, first of all, child laws, which are truly stupid. "You say to somebody, you shouldn't go to work before you're what, 14, 16 years of age, fine. You're totally poor. You're in a school that is failing with a teacher that is failing. I've tried for years to have a very simple model," he said. "Most of these schools ought to get rid of the unionized janitors, have one master janitor and pay local students to take care of the school. The kids would actually do work, they would have cash, they would have pride in the schools, they'd begin the process of rising." He added, "You go out and talk to people, as I do, you go out and talk to people who are really successful in one generation. They all started their first job between nine and 14 years of age. They all were either selling newspapers, going door to door, they were doing something, they were washing cars." "They all learned how to make money at a very early age," he said. "What do we say to poor kids in poor neighborhoods? Don't do it. Remember all that stuff about don't get a hamburger flipping job? The worst possible advice you could give to poor children. Get any job that teaches you to show up on Monday. Get any job that teaches you to stay all day even if you are in a fight with your girlfriend. The whole process of making work worthwhile is central." Well Newt, I'm not too sure of how the rest of Americans feel, but for me, you're a scary, disgusting excuse for a man, and you should be imprisoned within a high security penitentiary and gang raped by fellow prison thugs on a daily basis. You made the above statements, not I, and I'm totally convinced you take too much Viagra as it's turned you into a blithering idiot!