Beach Boarding

by Marvel Goose on June 30, 2009

Muslim Woman at the Beach

as-salaamu ‘alaykum!


I am writing you from my new infidel prison in the United States.  It is so bad that I yearn to return to Guantanamo.   We are located next to the ocean as before.

Every day they take us out for exercise on the beach.  We are made to bathe in the ocean that has been defiled by the bodies of whores.   The water is full of them. Young whores, old whores, little baby whores all nearly undressed with just little pieces of cloth for cover.  Yes, my brother, I am sorely tested in my Al-Birr.

We are made to play games in the sand. Foolish games. Very soon you are sweaty, sticky from your whore bath, and with sand stuck everywhere.  Then you take a shower and it is back to the room.

Sand is everywhere.  It is in the bed, on the floor, on my prayer mat, and in all the unmentionable places in your body.

After so long at Camp Guantanamo, my skin does not resist the sun. I am in much pain and peeling all the time.  All the infidel will do for me is supply some white cream in a bottle with a picture on the front of a baby whore having its pants pulled down by a dog.  I refuse to use it.

They think they did us a favor by supplying us with an infidel television. It is an abomination.  There are cartoons featuring a homosexual sponge.  My room mate, Khalifah, was addicted to it for a while. Every night I had to sit with my back to the set with my pillow over my head.

One night, Blessed be Allah, someone named Adam Lambert lost some stupid contest and Khalifah smashed the abomination with a chair.  He now regrets his lapse and joins me at night memorizing chapters from the Koran.

The food is delivered to our room by guards dressed as waiters. There is no Falafel, shawirma, or baklawa.  Instead we are offered infidel food like steak, fried chicken, and seafood.

I would start a hunger strike but the word is that the last hunger striker was forced to eat three Krystal Burgers in a row. I have never had a Krystal Burger but I know I can barely finish one hamburger much less three.

These people are beasts.

Everywhere they ask me if I am happy now that the excretory president of theirs has brought us to the United States.  May the snails devour his corpse!  May he be laid prostrate by the curse of curses!

I swear, a sacred Bayah, should I ever escape I will blow this place to hell.  If I do not make it home, Baqi, you would honor me if you would carry out this deed.  Never forget the name of this jail of shame:   Holiday Inn.

Shalom Abdul-Baqi,

Salah al Din

as-salaamu ‘alaykum!


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