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!"