It's Friday! Let's Dance!

In honor of hearing that Al Qaeda's own Numba 2 man, Ayman al-Zawahiri, may have been killed in a Predator airstrike, I give you Osama Bin Ladin singing and dancing. Let's dance and I hope we got that sucker!

The Road Trip

***OH FISHWALL MEMO OF DPRK AND GREAT READER KIM JONG IL***

Deer Readers,
We have come back safely to our PyongYang Palace in Central Cali-Flornia! The 3 of us had a successful secret spy trip to the Land of Analcavityheads (L.A.) .
Me, Great Reader KIM Jong IL (JihadGene), the Norf Korean Minister of Finance and Head Honcho of the War Department (Wife), and my Son of Guns (Karate Kid, age 12) have returned "Victoriously" to the People's Republic of Koweefornia's Central Valley! Let's me give you a Bro by Bro (blow by blow) description of our trip...
PREPARATION....Getting ready to go on "Top Secret" mission to Lost Angelswuss takes planning!

Preparations
Friday 25 July 2008
1. Make list of needed items to be purchased when in El Ray (L.A.).
2. Arrange for care and feeding of family pets (cat & dogs-also known as food inNorf Korea)
3. Refrigerator (piece of shit GE) only 3 years old breaks down.
4. Call GE Bastards and get repairs man to Palace of KIM Jong IL before heading out to El Ray!
5. GE guy comes to Palace on same day. Praise Allah! Sort'a fixes piece of crap GE refrigerator.
GE guy leaves. Refrigerator takes another dump. Refrigerator no working. Sucks. Call GE. They can come back on Wednesday....kiss mines Norf Korean ass. I'm screwed.
6. Get home from work (our store) in the evening and I'm notice the Palace Alarm system is showing a "Low Battery" signal. We never leave Norf Korea, and now, when we are gonna goes to the big city of El Way (L.A.) the home alarm is now acting funky. Not good. Oh well.
7. Say blessings to KIM Il Sung, and eat spoiling foods for dinner. Have warm waters-melon for dessert. Good night.

Getting Outta Here!
Saturday 26 July 2008
1. Beg GE Heathen Bastards to fix GE piece 'o shit refrigerator today. Sorry Charlie. No can do. See yoo Wednesday sucker. Shit.
2. Have warm and spoiled food fors breakfast. Chuck breakfast. We go out to Micky D's.
3. Say blessings to KIM Il Sung, and remember why I'm hates Micky D's.
4. Go work. Wife leave work and packs for memorable trip to L. Way.
5. Home alarm system funky like a monkey. Call ADT Bastards. No problemo! They come out today after 12. Good news!
6. ADT Bastards call back. No can do today. Sorry Charlie. Fix on Tuesday. Shit.
7. Make sure Imperial Japanese Van is ready for trip to L. Way. It be good to go!
8. Get off work.
9.Go home. Pack. Load van.
10. Alarm working but low battery signal got me worried. Hell wiff it!
11. Get on road. Drive 10 miles outta town and turn around. I'm forget my wallet. Doh!
12. Back on road. Get safe to L. Way. Good.
13. Check in to Korea town Hotel in L. Way. Is good.
14. Go to wonderful Korean restaurant in Korea town. FANTASTIC!
15. It now mid-night. Time to sleep. Bed is awesome! Have Tempur-pedic mattress, nice! Have to get up at 5AM and get ready for Karate tournament. LAPD helicopter now circles hotel all night while LAPD police try out loud speakers and sirens. Good night.

The Karate Tournament
Sunday 27 July 2008
1. 5AM wake up call....KIM Jr (son) is up and at 'em. Ready for karate tournament! Ma & Pa Kim are draggin ass. I'm worry about the alarm system at home. I'm worry too much.
2. Everybody cleaned up ready to go!
3. Go to another suck-ass Micky D's for breakfast.
4. Find Karate Tournament location. Starts at 7:30 AM. We are early 7AM, Good. 0730 Karate Tournament starts late...0900. Not good.
1PM...our son (KIM Jr) fights. WINS! Fights again...WINS! Fights again...WINS! Fights again...WINS! He takes 1st place! Parents KIM and Jane Jong Il very proud!
3:30PM... Son is getting "the holy goat snot" beat outta him by bigger kids in team competition. The God's must be angry at us, as we are not in church listening to the Lord's crappy church music today. My KIM Jr is gettin' banged up pretty bad. Poor kid is hurtin. His team takes 2nd. Mom & Dad proud! Poor kid is limping now, but smiles at Ma & Pa KIM. We love that kid!
* I asked KIM Jr if he wanted to go to Universal Studios or do something special and he just said, "Hotel. Hot bath. Korean restaurant. Sleep". We did.

Back to the Grind!
Monday 28 July 2008
1.) 7:30AM- Wake up. LAPD must of had the night off. Had good nights rest. KIM Jr is very sore this morning. I ask if he's okay. He smiles at me while rubbing the bruises on his forearms. I love him looong time!
2.) 8:00AM- A fanfreekintastic Seafood & ToFu bowl of hot bubbling soup for breakfast! With egg! Plus rice and a million side dishes! Outta this world!
3.) 9:30AM-3PM Garment District. Mrs KIM has us walking 7 miles. KIM Jr limps, but is still faster than me. We order stuff for our store. Then after placing orders, go back and pick it all up.
11:30AM- Have a FANTASTIC Korean lunch in Garment District! The restaurant only seats about 18 and has bicycle delivery service to the various shops in the Grarment District. The food is soooo good! Cheap too!
4.) 3PM- On road home to Central Koweefornia. L Way Traffick SUX! Every hour is rush hour.
5.) 6:20 PM- Home to dead alarm system, dead GE refrigerator, and happy pets!
6.) 7:00PM- Check on employees and store. Unload Imperial Japanese Van. Get ready for tomorrow. All home safe. We happy. Not Crappy. Mission accomplished.

* Some say things break in three's? The fridge and the alarm system were two... was the third my son? Or am I due for something else today? Just wondering. JG

Be Back on Tuesday...or Wednesday

Business, karate tournament, with fun mixed in! See ya later! Great Reader & JihadGene

It's Friday! Feel the Heat? Let's Dance!

It's Friday and I have a goat-smelling GE side by side refrigerator-freezer, made by infidels from PIGISTAN, that's only 2 years old. The compressor went out today. Can I get a repairman today? Maybe, I'm told. Will he have the part or parts needed? Maybe, I'm told. Did I tell ya it's gonna be 103 today? Sure hope my home's A/C unit isn't a GE. I think that tramp, Al Gore, is having his way with me. Al wants us not to use energy, so I guess a refrigerator is not needed in his Glow-balled Warming World, which he flies over in a JP5 fuel-sucking jet. Piss on Al Gore! I hope he has GE jet engines. With my luck he'll probably crash on-top of me, anyways. Man, in times like these I miss my motorcycle (the one I was always crashing and doing Jihad on) something fierce. It's times like this when I just want to get on the bike and take a ride in the country, where I can enjoy my Iron Horse while being pelted by dust, dirt, and sand, stinging insects, sprayed by crop dusters, and enjoy the adrenalin-rush of narrowly avoiding death in the form of ladders falling out of pick up trucks in front of me, or the thrill of drunken Mexicans running stop signs in their Chevy vans as I approach the intersection. Welcome to my
"El World-Oh" ...a little Latin lingo as I'm practicing being bilingual like Obama instructs me.
Man, I still miss my motorcycle! So in honor of all these things on my mind....plus the fact that my Elder Sister Carol and the entire 1st Baptist Church thinks I'm going to hell anyway...here's today's Jihadgene Dance Fever hit! The song by Elvis. The video with Ghost rider. Come on! Let's dance!

Finally, Uncle Bob's New Car!

Dear Readers,
I'm sorry. Sorry for making you wait these too many days (since 8 July), to hear more from Uncle Bob, and to find out what kind of a new car he got. Remember how my Dad got a new 1966 Chevy Chevelle station wagon and Bob was not impressed? Uncle Bob, not to be out-done, now opens his garage door to show us what he has inside...

UNCLE BOB- Enough of your shit! Look what I got!
(Uncle Bob slowly opens the garage door)

DAD- Shit, Bob! What the hell did you do...rob a *G*damned bank?

UNCLE BOB- Sweet, ain't it?

I see the parked beauty and yell for my brother, Joe. My Dad whistle's a long, low, whistle.
Now my brother, Joe, enters the garage. His eye's have almost never been bigger, except when Uncle Bob beached the boat doing 100+MPH at the Suisun Slough maybe, and almost got us all killed. Joe smiles a huge nervous smile. "Look at her! Just look at her"!, I said. My Dad, Joe, and Uncle Bob's faces all beam. Me too.

DAD- Damn, Bob! You bought the Queen Mary! You must have done some serious overtime out at the ship yard.

UNCLE BOB- (says with a big shit-eatin' grin) Worth it don't ya think?

DAD- (whistles again) A blue convertible. Well, since you are between wives...you haven't remarried again, have you, Bob? You are still single, aren't you?!

UNCLE BOB- (laughs loudly) OH HELL NO!

DAD- (rolls eyes) Sure, Bob.

UNCLE BOB- I mean it! I'm swearing off 'a marriage for good.

DAD- I'll drink to that!

At this point Uncle Bob get's that twinkle in his eye, pulls out his car keys, walks over to the huge trunk of the new car and opens it. There in the trunk, is the magic silver colored cooler with the 7up logo on it. The cooler is chock full of Miller High Life Beer, on ice. We admire the size of the trunk, then Uncle Bob helps himself to a sodie and hands Dad a beer. They drink and smile. Me and my brother Joe just circle the car, a beautiful blue, 1966 2 door Cadillac, Fleetwood Eldorado. It was a convertible! I looked inside, and there behind the drivers seat was Uncle Bob's empty Hill Brothers 5 pound coffee can he kept for pit stops (bladder relief). When Uncle Bob saw me looking in at his infamous coffee can, he just busted up and told me that some day, if I worked real hard, and didn't bother marrying too-many women, that, I too, could have such a Cadillac, Fleetwood, Eldorado, convertible complete with a Hills Brothers piss can. About 4 or 6 beers later Uncle Bob announced...let's take her out for a spin. Seeing as how Uncle Bob only had about 4 or 6 beers in him, I figured we were safe. We jumped in... (to be continued)

My Pastor is on Vacation

Hell is for Heathens
I knew I was screwed. I should of known I was screwed. But it's like paying taxes. The stuff eventually catches up with you, and then, you are totally screwed. Just when I thought I had more than enough in the HOLY column...then... KA-FOOKIN-BOOM!!!... and I'm back in the HEATHEN, BURN IN HELL column, again.
God is either keeping me around for laughs, or I got a real Clarence for a guardian angel.
Here's why...
My regular Pastor (#1) goes on vacation, which happens every summer. Then my #2 Pastor, a true blue bonifide California blond-headed lazy butt, takes over. Now that may sound good and all but...enter Pastor#3, Mr Minister of Music.
The guy's a Nazi. My regular Pastor keeps Hitler in check, sorta, and I can appreciate that, but when he's gone then Pastor Hitler (#3) pretty much takes over. I will tell you right now that Pastor#3 is a pencil-necked-geek. He even plays guitar, and yet the Fuhrer (Pastor#3) hates country & western music. Is that sick or what?
Well...when Pastor#1 is here, he keeps the Nazi Minister of Music (Pastor#3) limited to about 20 minutes of music. However when Pastor#1 is gone...Nazi Pastor#3 orders us to our feet, and gives us all direction, as if we're in the damned choir! He's a pompous ass and says crap like..."You're a little slow to your feet this morning. So let's try this again and sing Stand Up for Jesus"! I'm steamed. This goes on for 45 minutes, which lazy butt Pastor#2 loves, 'cause now he's only gotta preach for 3 or 10 minutes, depending on who all is dead, dying, having surgeries, thinks they are dying, think they may have a surgical procedure done one day, or wedding anniversary's. Then we're singing these suck-ass songs he likes (from the 90's) over and over. I've heard Majesty so many times, that if I hear it once more, I'm gonna hurl on a church elder. Me? What do I want? I just want to smote the Pastor-Nazi who somehow escaped the Nuremberg trials, something fierce.
So let's go to this past Sunday...

I have a dream!
Now... knowing that the musical services always begin with the "Pastor Hitler Music Man Show and Sing Along Marathon" I just figure I'll drag my feet in the morning so we'll arrive late and miss all of Pastor Adolph's "American Baptist Idol" or "Sing Better than a Choir of 5th Graders" shows. While I admit it was a great plan that I personally formulated over some alcoholic beverages on Saturday night, I think God had a different plan in store for my baptized ass. Ya see, we walked in late, and there was Pastor#2 already well into his sermon. I'm thinking... WAY COOL... we'll be outta here in no time! But as I listen, I realize the sermon is about being flexible. That dirty lazy-butted-dog-of-a-Pastor(#2) has gone and done a change-up, on ME! Get the picture? Lazy Butt Pastor#2 has started this service off with his preaching first, so now I'm stuck with having to go through the entire "Reichstag Music Review" with Herr Pastor#3.

The Great Escape (almost)
Oh crap! As in baseball, the wife "read my signals". She was blocking my escape. Family honor, my ass! Church, hell! I go for broke and make a break for it! Just as I was leaping over the backs of some peoples heads and chairs, to make my escape, my son puts his red Karate belt to work. I'm not sure what the move was but I think it was a WWE Choke Slam, using my tie, or maybe he Tomb-stoned my ass? I just don't know. But I was grateful for the fact that I was unconscious for a full five minutes and missed some of that gawd awful music. As I got up off the floor, someone yelled "He Is Risen"! Though my ears were ringing, I could hear the congregation singing Onward Christian Soldier. I massaged my throat. My wife handed me half a box of Kleenex to help stop the river of blood flowing from my now, broken nose. I looked at my son. He mouthed the words..."I'm sorry, Dad". What a great kid! Lightning fast and strong too! My wife smiled sweetly, handed me a raw steak to put on my swollen right eye. I was in and out of consciousness, but we must'a stood and sang those lame ass'd songs for over an hour. Yes, you got me good, God. But it pisses me off. If anybody deserves to burn in hell over this post...it's Pastor#3 of First Baptist Church!

Church with Rev Michelle Obama

Hello Obamite's! As you well know, Barrack Who's-Named Obama, is overseas gallantly serving this undeserving nation of mean people of ours. Barrack is busy securing peace and harmony in the middle-east, just like Jimmy Carter, until Ronald Reagan and George Bush #1 fu*ked that shit all kinds of up. Now, even as I, the Reverend Michelle Obama speak... my sweet-meated Prince of Piece, is in the HOMIE Land, hookin up with the butchers of Iraqistan. You know who they are... General Betrayus, and some other lame ass generals in George W. Bush's army, who have been air-raiding and killing civilians! Our nation's soul is broken! Barry is here to fix our nation's soul! Now STFU and let us pray...

...Our Barrack, who's-Named Obama, so hollow be this lame. Thy kingdom come, Rezko's will be done, on earth, as it is in the projects. Give us this day, our daily talking points, and lead us not within 10 miles of Jessie Jackson. May we pile up debt and have Hillary supporters pick up the checks, as we are black, and can't be questioned. And lead us not into the Republican Party (who are all a bunch of pussy's) but deliver us from Karl Rove. For me and mine's is the kingdom, and the power, and the White House forever. Right on!


Let us now enjoy these songs of worship...

What a wonderful friend we have in Obama ( The Tali-bandsmen)

Draw me to Your (airport) Throne Room (Solo Senator Larry Craig)

We shall gather at the Denver, the beautiful, the beautiful, Denver (Solo Rep. Nancy Pelosi)

There's Power in the Mud (Solo Rep. Barney Frank)

Faithful (Solo Bill Clinton)

Heads Up (Solo Monica Lewinski)

Who Needs a Boat (Solo Ted Kennedy)

(* I could go on with this shit)

Okay. The service is over, sucka's! Now go to the Trinity United Church and donate today! If you contribute over $500 you will receive a Joliet State Penitentiary list of “do’s and don’ts” personally autographed by Tony Rezko! For those of you struggling, whitie collar hard-workin’ folk (lawyers), who contribute over $1k, you will receive a Denny’s Menu signed by “The Shake-Down Clowns”…Jessie Jackson and Al Sharpton! Remember, brothers and sisters, a minimum donation of only $500 will not only “not” fix your souls, but likely you will find yourself under the wheels of a bus! Give generously or else! And all of you Hillary supporters can kiss my bodacious ass! Cash only, no checks. Vote OBAMA!