I’ve been giving some thought about all these 15,16 and 17 year old girls packing up from the UK and America and heading up to Syria to join up with ISIS. Yeah, yeah, I know, at this age they do most of their thinking with their vaginas, but I digress.
From a practical standpoint, how the ‘chazizell’ can these twatwaffles climb on an airplane (apparently with passports) and just wing their way to Turkey, then Syria, while Mom is getting her nails done and Dad is banging his secretary? Do they have that many free air miles? A bottomless AmEx?
And I want to know how they got through security with that much K-Y Jelly. Cause you know that dude on You Tube told them to bring plenty, for the party. What other logical (yeah, I used that word loosely huh) explanation could there be? No showers? No need to change clothes, because you won’t have any below the Burka?(It slows down the foreplay) You won’t have to do dishes? (No, the goats lick them clean). What?
Maybe the momentary thoughts of teaching Dad and Mom a lesson, for all that ‘parenting’ stuff sent them off the mental radar. I mean, they’ll show the parents they aren’t the boss of me! I can have all the sex I want, with whoever I want! (Yeah, and that’ll just be the first day. After that, It’ll be with way more and with way, way more than you want)
About 48 hours in an ISIS sweatbox with 40 or 50 cranked up jihads, will start making those long afternoons looking out the bay window of Daddy’s seaside mansion start to look pretty good.
And when the initial bleeding is replaced by calluses and oozing blisters, well then a weekend doing dishes and re-grouting the bathrooms will look like a piece of paradise. No sir, about the only thing the bottomless Bloomingdales card will be good for is sharpening one edge and slicing one’s own throat.
And as for Daddy and Mommy, look for them to sell out and move with no forwarding address, because you just did them the biggest favor of your life. Sayonara, you worthless piece of crap.