I’ve been reading a lot recently about Usama bin Laden, and strange as it sounds to say, I feel a bit of pity for him.
No really, think about it: The guy was 54 years old, had 3 wives at the same time and 23 kids. At that age it would be difficult for him to change careers. He was pretty much stuck in his current line of work. He lived in a million dollar house, but I think he got ripped off by a really sleazy Realtor. I mean, a million bucks for that dump?? That right there would send me over the edge.
And his home life must have been hell, too. I can hear it now.....
Wife #1: “Usama, honey.....does this burkha make my butt look big?”
Wife #2: “Sweetie...how come you bought #3 a new goat last week, but you didn’t get me one? Don’t you still love me? I mean, we never go out anymore....we need to talk.”
Wife #3: “Listen here, buster. I pick up after you, I cook all day, I try and keep our 23 kids in line....DO YOU HEAR ME...23 FOR ALLAH’S SAKE! And what do you do all day, Mr. Big Shot? You just sit there in the floor, wrapped up nice and cozy in your old army blanket, cleaning your gun, watching yourself on TV. Must be nice!” *snarl*
Wife #1: So have you decided which of us you’ll be taking to the Terrorist Ball next month?”
I can see why he might want to vent every once in a while. You know, pop off a few AK-47 rounds, maybe blow up a continent or something. Oh well, at least he now has his 72 Virginians.