Wednesday, May 21, 2008

The hunt for bin Laden

A fellow called Morgan Spurlock has made a documentary about the on-going manhunt for bin Laden. The mood of the film can be summed up as follows:

They seek him here, they seek him there,

Those missiles seek him everywhere.
Is he indoors, or in someone’s garden?
That damned elusive Osama bin Laden.

I give the man full marks for enthusiasm, but he’s clearly out of his depth. To catch a slippery fish like bin Laden you’ve got to be an experienced bounty hunter, equipped with the latest gadgets and mingling with the shadiest characters. Spurlock’s credentials are weak to the point of non-existent. It’s the old story of antiquated kit and piss-poor intelligence leading to a futile wild-goose chase.

A lot of humans seem to have their own pet schemes for liquidating the goatish fugitive. Last Easter, at Dr Whipsnade’s dinner table, I heard an English country gent explaining how he would go about it.

“Give my hounds a scent of his briefs and let them loose in North Waziristan at daybreak,” declared Hubert ‘Sniffer’ Gusset. “They’ll be biting chunks off the blighter before sundown!”

I couldn’t avoid sucking my teeth in disbelief, even though it’s not the best table manners. Bin Laden may be a crafty fiend, but fox he is not. Nor does he wear underpants beneath those demure ankle-length frocks he models for Al Jazeera. How do I know about these sartorial details? Because I have a reliable informant who’s seen Osama from inside the llama’s lair. I bullshit ye not, ladies and gentlemen, I actually know a woman who was bin Laden’s concubine in the flower of her nubility.

Ever since I wrote an essay about her in September 2006, Ms Kola Boof has been a regular correspondent. (I have since deleted the post for reasons that are none of your business, but my longstanding readers may remember it). This proud Nubian damsel was abducted by the Yemeni Yeti in the 1990s and forced into a grim existence as his sex slave. She eventually managed to give him the slip, and went on to found an authentic African religion involving Earth-mother, bare-titty themes. She currently lives in California and has published a number of poems and short stories.

Incidentally, just because a man is wanted for terrible crimes it doesn’t mean his lesser ones should be ignored or forgiven. As I mentioned above, Ms Boof was far from being a willing adornment to bin Laden’s camel-hair rug. Back in my circus days, I remember hearing about the trial of a notorious con-man who’d swindled pensioners out of their life savings. When his picture appeared in the newspapers, one of our female acrobats recognised him as the flasher who’d ruined her breakfast at a café in Littlehampton. I applauded her civic spirit when she resolved to appear as a character witness for the prosecution, although it turned out her testimony was inadmissible. I don’t understand these legal technicalities. A man who indecently exposes himself at a woman with her mouth full is surely capable of anything.

Returning to the bin Laden case, Ms Boof has supplied me with inside information about the scoundrel’s biggest weakness. In a word, it’s poontang. According to Kola, he became deranged with lust for Whitney Houston when he saw her on TV, dreaming up the craziest plots to kidnap the chanteuse and ravish her inside his tent. Hence the best way of bringing about his downfall might be to persuade a Whitney look-alike to prostitute herself in a noble cause (the real Miss Houston being too far gone for such work).

If our intrepid Mata Hari were to go round the karaoke bars of Peshawar singing ‘I will always love you’, bin Laden would soon get to hear of it, and no doubt think she was singing about him, the conceited ass. Little would he know about the high-voltage device implanted in her vagina, capable of killing a man with a single lethal jolt, or rendering him incontinent at the very least. I don’t see him making any more boastful videos after an experience like that. Better implant one in her rectum as well to be on the safe side.

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I too have tangled with Bin Laden. And yes his weakness is poontang.
He arrived at my house a few weeks back saying "Baltimore is such a boring city no one will look for me here," I said, "okay, maybe, but take that towel off your head it sticks out like a sore thumb." Which he did. He now wears a Ravens baseball cap. I can also say that yes, he doesn't wear underpants beneath those demure ankle-length frocks and he also has a large and deadly weapon which is permanently on red alert. I trust you will keep this info to yourself GB?
They've fooled you again, I fear, Monkey Boy. That's a photo of Mike Brearley on the 1977-78 tour of Pakistan.
Fascinating post, Bananaman; I didn't know about the rather interesting (and beautiful) Ms Boof. Bin Laden’s sex slave - it just doesn't bear thinking about. All power to her in her recovery from this experience.

Which one's Mike Brierley?? The one on the right could be a joke-shop-bearded Geoffrey Boycott - another chap who knew his own mind and was very fond of scoring.
I bet Carly Simon wished she'd had a vaginal booby-trap for Warren Beatty instead of singing her angst to the world with "You're So Vain", as zippy a song as that may be.

With that garden/Laden rhyme I now know what your accent's like, Nanas!

Awfully muddle-headed at the moment. We won at trivia you see! Five free shots!
Our Geoffrey would be wearing a Panama not a head wrap, Gadjo.
That reminds me of a joke about an Englishman, a Frenchman and an Arab about how to make love to a woman:

Englishman: Making love to a beautiful woman (yes it was Swiss Tony) is like smoking a cigarette - a brief pleasure, quickly consumed, and then extinguished.

Frenchman: Non, non mon ami, makin lurve to a woman ees lahk eating a delicieux five-course meal, you take your time, you 'ave a leetle rest now and again, you start again, and when you are satisfied, you push ze plate away gently.

Arab: No, no, no, you have both got it wrong. Making love to a woman is like playing a cassette.

Frenchman and Englishman: A CASSETTE????

Arab: Yes, it goes like this: you put it in, play one side, when it is finished you take it out and turn it over!

Of course that joke doesn't work nowadays because it's all DVDs.

Bin Laden is in the Lake District, by the way.
Mr Bananas ... thank you. You made me laugh out loud several times during the reading of this post. 'Sniffer' Gussett is the most splendid name for a Hubert.

I googled Ms Boof - there are some interesting articles about her - ranging from the view that she is seriously deluded, to one that she is the new Goddess of America. Has Oprah Winfrey interviewed her yet, I wonder?

Thanks for the sniggers.x
Emma: That's very funny Emma, but I assure you there are factual elements to this post. Would you like to see my e-mail correspondence with Kola Boof?

Ulaca: So Mike Brearly dyed his hair ginger when he toured Pakistan? What a strange man he was.

Gadjo: Thank you for your well-informed remarks about Ms Boof and Mr Boycott. I can tell you did some research before commenting. Well done, Sir!

Sam: The song would be appropriate, but Carly is not bin Laden's type. Just think of Brian Blessed if you want to imagine my voice, Sam dearest.

Lady Daphne: A tad flattering to the French, milady. But at least is there no mention of sheep or goats, which is something to applaud.

Kitty: My pleasure, Kitty. And thank you for googling Ms Boof to confirm that she is a real person. I really HAVE received a dozen or so e-mails from her.
mr bin laden is currently an inmate at the gimcrack. I changed his continence pad yesterday and the contents were impressive
Ah, California! A fair number of my ancestors settled there too, so I can attest to its power to attract the spirited and delusional. Not that this isn't a great story and one which I am about half a millimeter from believing myself.
Not only is this an excellent post, it surely can be sent (unedited) to a production company as a proposal for an actual reality show.

Throughout the lands a Whitney Houston lookalike can be sought to act as bait for Bin Laden. Titles such as "The X Fanny" and "I'm a Concubine, Get him into me" spring to mind.
It’s the old story of antiquated kit and piss-poor intelligence leading to a futile wild-goose chase.

Sounds like my dating life in college.

What's wrong with mentioning sheep?

Brian Blessed? Num.
My sources in the Intelligence Community say your information might be out-dated. I.E. the obsession with skanky non-muslib black female celebs and black women generally.
Gorilla has shown astounding insight into Bin and has provided a blueprint for action with the Baroness Orczy template:

1. Tempt Bin with a lissome actress (Ms. Halle), who holds soirees at her home in Paris

2. Scarlet Pimpernel and Bin meet and clash horns at soiree

3. Scarlet P rescues various oppressed; Bin is flushed from cover by jealosy

4. Bin is cleverly trapped by Scarlet P into fighting with swords

5. Bin is slain with lightning thrust of sword

6. Scarlet P makes off with Halle on his private ship anchored somewhere in the English Channel

7. The world is again ruled by the British Empire and lives happily ever after.

Hmm... part of me thinks I'd like to take on the mission (and the other part says, "Who is he anyway? Not big enough prey to be worth the effort. ;-)")
At least if he were rendered incontinent by this intravaginal device, Gusset's hounds (sounds like a new breed, doesn't it?) would certainly never lose track of him.

It's all very reminiscent of a bad Bond-film, I wager - or at least Johnny English.

Oh I'm sure Kola told the truth. All I'm saying is that the Big Guy is currently sitting beside me eating a Subway sandwich and chugging a Bud. I shouldn't have told you that only I was a little tiddly when I disclosed all yesterday about my current lover.
Oh, that Lady Daphne.......there's nothing qiute as invigorating as being told dirty jokes by a posh bird.
Nurse Myra: He's got a lot of nerve for a man with a weak bladder.

Mary: I am inclined to believe her because she took the trouble to e-mail me to correct facts in my 2006 post.

Misssy: Thanks, Misssy. Alternatively, you could make a film about La Boof. Do you want her e-mail address?

Randall: I'm surprised to hear you were using antiquated kit in your college days, Randall. Surprised and disturbed.

Sam: I think sheep have been overused in sexual gags. They've suffered enough. Did you like Brian in Flash Gordon?

Troll: That's no way to talk about a gifted poet and writer.

Bunny: A complex and ingenious plan. The "clashing horns" step would be the pièce de résistance. I'm not sure the British still have the gumption for an empire, though.

Eve: I absolutely forbid it, Eve! The mission is not for a good girl!

Kat: Binny is not nearly glamorous enough for a Bond villain, Kat. He'd need to get his own island with a rocket launch pad and casino with no betting limits.

Emma: You seem to have a lot in common, because Kola is also a published writer and mother of two. I shall start thinking of you as the white Kola Boof.

Gadjo: I think she learned that one at the Rodean.
I have also become obsessed with Whitney and tried to kidnap her .... is that bad?
I am mesmerised by the likelihood between Bin Laden and Spurlock. Something to do with the facial hair perhaps, or my lack of sleep, or both. I sense a conspiracy at work somewhere...
i couldn't get through Supersize Me. it made me physically ill. but i bet this next documentary won't make me ill. because when he finds bin laden...he won't force feed macdonalds down his gullet. which is what will keep it from getting an oscar.
I'd love to see the "Houston, we have a problem" moment.
Osama has sex slaves? I would of thought a man that good looking could have any girl he wanted....
Mutley: Kidnapping Whitney would be very bad, even if she secretly wanted it.

Ariel: I think they met in the boy scouts. They could even be blood brothers.

Kara: I couldn't get through 5 minutes of Supersize Me before feeling sick. Spurlock will do anything for publicity, which is dangerous.

Kyknoord: He wouldn't have time to say anything before his dick got fried.

Mr Guru: Yeah, but he likes them to resist. He's like a Viking.
You are one smart ape Mr. Bananas. But, I have evidence Osama is right here in Miami. A receipt for a timeshare in my hand proves he is just down the street. It's not just a coincidence that there is a nuclear power plant, a large naval base, and tons of illegals blatantly running around. Every once in a while I see what appears to be camel droppings too. And Whitney's house is just 3 miles away. So that internal electrical device solves the mystery as to why we get frequent power outages. :)
Blogger Gorilla Bananas said...

Some bloggers have private blogs which can only be accessed by those whom they send an e-mail invitation. As yet, I have only been invited to one such blog. It is quite easy to make your blog private on blogger, but don't do it unless you're going to invite me!


I have two private blogs, but both are boring as all get out. In one I track my exercise and meditation to keep myself on track/drag myself back on track. The other is a mess of stuff I find -- quotes, lings, etc., so that I can have access to stuff when away from my own computers -- that's the oldest one, back when my old college computer was about to kick the cyber bucket.

But if I ever have a private blog worthy of inviting friends to, you'll be the first, sweet fabulous grand primate <3

--p.s.: My own theory re Bin Laden is that his family knows way too much about the Bushes/have worked closely with them in the oil business and so a deal has been struck to never find him.
What a pity that there hardly are any Karaoke bars in Peshawar or thereabouts!

GB, your innovative approach to intelligence puts the CIA's "pardon me, sir, but have you seen this guy?" to shame.

We British spent the Second World War (all of it, not just the last two-thirds) coming up with trampoline bombs, explosing pigeons, Hungarian psychics and jocular songs about Hitler's knackers and Hirohito's funny teeth.

The pedestrian Americas and lumbering, unibrow Russians went for the crude fight-and-kill approach. They won the conflict, but we provided reams of material for quirky war films.
Maybe Osama bin Laden's best tactic for evading the CIA is to disguise himself as Osama bin Laden. People will say to him: "Hey, you really look like that bin Laden guy"..."ha ha, yes, people often tell me this, it is funny. But that 9/11 was rubbish, poor preparation, the flying was all over the place, it’s poor terrorism is that"...."You’re Geoffrey Boycott, aren’t you!"..."Aye, you got me".
I sat next to Flash Gordon at school. I didn't know he'd been involved in Hunnish practices with Brian Blessed.

It's always the one with the banjolele who gets to hear things last.
Bin Laden is in my pub this evening...odd aint it?
Upset Waitress: Why not give him a meal on the house at your restaurant? That should finish him off.

Letty: Ah, so you are a secret blogger!

Sidhu: Have you been to Peshawar, Sidhu? I hear they make a mean pair of chappals.

Mr Boyo: And let's not forget the ability to devise offensive names for enemy nations, which are instantly adopted by entire British nation. It's difficult to fight against such national consciousness.

Gadjo: Haha! Now that's the sort of idea Ian Fleming might have dreamt up. And how do you know so much about cricket all of a sudden?

Kevin: I don't think they did anything more than snog a bit. Flash may have stroked his beard too.

Mutley: Is your pub The Burka and Crescent then?
I am learning an awful lot about some obscure "celebrities" via your blog. I think I lead a sheltered life and an ignorant one at that. Kola Boof - interesting indeed. I actually think Bin Laden is here in Australia - or an awful lot of people who look like him. Do you think he may have shaved his beard off by now - I mean, it is a bit of a trademark isn't it.
Mr Gorilla, the Internet is astounding - news of The Greatest Living Yorkshireman reaches Romania's gypsy shanties just as it does has the jungles of the Congo ;-)
If I was Bin Laden I'd hide out in the Stoke City midfield. No-one would ever spot me there (plus my bodyguards could join me. Probably on the right-wing though.)
Linda: I don't think he'd ever shave off the beard, it's too much part of his character. He's like Rolf Harris in that respect.

Gadjo: The information is there for everyone, but you must be one of the few in Romania who having any interest in looking for it.

Red Squirrel: Bin Laden was top scorer for Aston Villa reserves in the 1992/3 season. He wouldn't be able to resist making runs into the penalty area.
Not even if we offered him the role of midfield general?
He'd send the striker on suicide missions by playing 50/50 balls to the corner flag.
I was enjoying reading this post, smiling often, and then:

"Better implant one in her rectum as well to be on the safe side."

I actually laughed! You are truly the king of the apes, Dr. Zaius.
I'll take that as a compliment, Madam Z, and forgive you for naming me after that ginger-haired prig.
I thought that was a new fizzy drink... no, wait, that was "Boof Cola". My bad.

Say what you want about bin Laden - he may be an evil sonofabitch, but he sports a primo playoff beard.
"A man who indecently exposes himself at a woman with her mouth full is surely capable of anything"

LOL!!! You are such a riot la!!

And i totally agree about the rectum-implant thingy....they seem to pefer up-the-butt to anything else
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