Osama’s Diary, March 11, 2010

Best. Birthday. Present. Ever.

Ayman’s been wracking his brains for months trying to figure out how to ruin Biden’s trip to Israel. God knows he’s done enough damage to himself, what with those pictures of him shirtless washing his car and that embarrassing Hennessy ad campaign. It’s a good thing I saw that mess because I was so close to signing that deal to be the “spokesmodel” for Dr. Scholl’s gel inserts. But I did think their slogan was pretty catchy: “Are you gellin’ like a mass-murdering terrorist?”

So anyhoo, Biden like goes to Israel because, you know, they’re so bad-ass and he wants to look cool, but he got like totally served. 1600 new homes in the occupied territories. The look on the dude’s face was priceless.

Was pretty bummed that we were out of toaster strudels, so I settled for a couple of cinnamon pop-tarts and some Sunny D. Read the paper (Family Circus never gets old, does it?) while Adam kept trying to give me a back rub. I just freaking woke up. Duh. Maybe we’ll watch Twilight: New Moon again later. I don’t know, made me cry last time, so I’m not sure I’m up for that again, but Adam totally wants to watch it again. He even sent me a little note the other day that said, “You give me everything by breathing!”

Had to do one of those PR visits to a madrassa down in the suburbs. Those kids are so obnoxious and immature, but you gotta go what you gotta do. I told them we were going to have an art contest, and the winner would get to go to Chuck E. Cheese and “Diary of a Wimpy Kid” with me. I told them they had 5 minutes to draw a picture of the prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him). Once they all had their crayons and paper, I shouted, “Go!” Six kids started drawing furiously. Totally Punk’d. Kids love shit like that. Took them out and had them shot.

Ate a whole box of Sour Punch Straws and half a carton of Whoppers on the way home and felt a little guilty. But I promised myself I’m done purging. I’ll just work harder in my spinning class this week. Ayman tells me it’s bad for my teeth, too. Speaking of Ayman, I’m starting to get tired of him. Such a buzz-kill. All he ever wants to talk about is killing and maiming. It’s like he’s obsessed with all this jihad shit. I told him he needs a hobby, like tole painting or scrapbooking. Adam says I’m his hobby. Slightly awkward.

Spent the afternoon working on a video. I never know what to say on these things. I mean, it’s always about infidels and crusaders. Can’t we mix things up? Maybe do a musical (Adam says he’s up for it)? So, I got to the bit about the Crusader-Jewish alliance, and I just started giggling. Couldn’t stop. You know how that is, when you just can’t stop laughing. Almost peed my robes. At first Ayman was pissed, but he started laughing too, so we gave up. Ayman started doing his famous Hank Hill impression, though I don’t think Adam liked him pointing and saying, “That boy ain’t right.”

After dinner (Dino Bites and grape Kool-Aid) watched some Drake & Josh and then Iron Chef (the secret ingredient was cranberries). The trazodone was starting to kick in, so we had a group hug and I headed off to bed. Can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings.


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