Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Fragments of an Overheard Imaginary Conversation Between Mr. and Mrs. Gaddafi During a Recent Air Strike

Honey, remind me to pick up some mustard gas on the way out.
No silly, this is not what the Americans call “March Madness.”
Damn cruise missiles. I wish they had an app for that.
Did I really just say “Dustbin of history?” What was I thinking?
Safia, please turn the damn foursquare off on your iPhone!
We just don’t have time to get a Charlie Sheen update. Let’s go!
I doubt very much that there is a Groupon for an escape helicopter.
Hey look, they are playing, “What’s My Tribe” on TV!
I need to look more incognito. How about a soul patch?
Before we escape, does this burqa make my butt look big?

Where the hell are my virgin bodyguards? 

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