Showing posts with label Safia Gaddafi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Safia Gaddafi. Show all posts

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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