THE PRESIDENT: Today, the dirt people of Palestine, or "Exploding Mexicans" as I like to call them, embraced Lady Liberty by holding free elections. Unfortunately, those basket cases voted for the wrong party – some evildoer outfit called "Hummus." Well that's not how a modern, Diebold-optimized democracy works. And I should know!

Now I don't see how the Palestinos can expect to be a partner in my genius Roadmap to Middle East Piece^TM if they advocate the destruction of a country (and/or a Western military base masquerading as a country) staffed by religous fanatics. And yet, they go ahead and elect straight-up terrorists instead of making nice with the more subtle, nuanced Israelian terrorists who've been their kindly slave masters for so long.

Just remember one thing Palestinostan: Nobody likes you. You think Arafat got his picnic-tablecloth head invited to the good Muslim parties – the kind with non-alcoholic beer, fakin' bacon sandwiches, and cool "Pitch the Jagged Stone at the Ankle-Flashing Whore" tournaments? No, he didn't. The Jews hate your guts, the Arabs hate your guts, and I hate your guts. The only people who like you are the French, who want you to move to a Parisian ghetto so you can serve them escargot-kabobs in happy enlightened servitude, and upper middle class dykes from Columbia University who'll step over a strung-out nigger in the gutter to shake an angry finger at a ROTC kid. I swear, there's nothing those liberal college kids find cuter than a crippled puppy or a Palestinian!

Get the GODLY New Book!

Anyway, if you want the Apocalypse to hurry up and get here, I am more than happy to oblige. Hell, we might finally get the real war everyone has a hard-on for – the kind that Steven Spielberg 2060 will make an Emmy-winning holo-series about. And holy motherfucking hallelujah, won't that be sweet? You think suicide missions are the ultimate sign of courage and sacrifice? Well I find strapping missiles onto a remote-control airplane to be the ultimate sign of intelligence and, well, awesomeness. I don't want my guys to die, I want YOUR guys to die – preferably by the six-pack.

What, you think you've got a chance just because IRAN backs you up? Hey Iran, I will be fucked by a flying bull before I let you nutters WHO CAN'T EVEN GROW A PROPER BEARD set up some kind of Shia-opolis in the Middle East. That's OUR oil, OUR rigs, and OUR tankers. You're lucky we let you asswipes bicker and fight and chant and wear ski masks.

But let's really be frank, shall we? You Arabs just can't take care of yourselves. If left to your own devices, you fruitcakes would spend all the love long day hooting and hollaring and spitting chewed-up pita bread into each other's mouths while playing slap-ass with scimitars.

I have no idea where you Allah-Ricans get your self-confidence. You got oil. You had a couple good centuries once upon a time and you used to be good at math. But what have you done lately? You should look in the mirror and come to grips with one reality: you ain't doin' Moooooooo-hamandcheese's will. You're greedy, nasty, power-hungry, vulture-looking douchebags with God complexes who want beachfront real estate, ALL the beachfront real estate ...just like my administration. Admit it, we're no so different after all, right?

So listen up: you be nice to Israel, or else. After all, it wasn't for nothing that America's secular government drew Israel's borders by tracing pages out of the Bible. Our reasons for defending them are 100% selfless, and we will continue to do so until sweet, loving Jesus floats down to viciously incinerate every last piece of Jewish, Muslabian, and Hindabuddhastafarian trash – and let FREEDOM^® ring all across the Middle East!

Thank you, and may God Bless America.

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