11/16/2007
Musharraf to World: “Suck a Cheetah’s Dick”
By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor
Musharraf: Kind of Like Saddam, Without the Oil
(Islamabad)—President Pervez Musharraf, whose recent instatement of martial law has led many to question the integrity of Pakistan’s wavering democracy, offered a stern message to Western governments earlier this morning.
“For those who would challenge my faith in Allah and attack my reputation as a leader of men, I offer the following statement,” Musharraf shouted into his podium’s bouquet of microphones. “Take a bottle of mustard, squirt it on the erect dong of a cheetah, and suck unless his sour feline cum fills your heathen mouth.”
Musharraf continued to denounce American and British criticism of his maverick coup, and sternly pushed his rhetoric of nationalistic pride.
“Pakistan is rising as a global power, that much is undeniable,” Musharraf passionately intoned. “And for those who doubt this great country, or my sovereign power as its president, you should take a stale bottle of pickle relish, slather it on the shaft of a ravenous jungle cat, and wait for his baby gravy to burst in your jowls.”
Musharraf ended with a rousing call for support from his party’s bedrock.
“Some may say I am a thug, a double-faced conniver who merely plays the political field to his daily advantage,” Musharraf boomed. “To those who would propagate such baseless accusations, I say and say again: baste a quart of Balochi potato salad on a cheetah’s throbbing member, and gag it down until your throat fills with the frothy shame of animal jizz.”
Musharraf: Kind of Like Saddam, Without the Oil
(Islamabad)—President Pervez Musharraf, whose recent instatement of martial law has led many to question the integrity of Pakistan’s wavering democracy, offered a stern message to Western governments earlier this morning.
“For those who would challenge my faith in Allah and attack my reputation as a leader of men, I offer the following statement,” Musharraf shouted into his podium’s bouquet of microphones. “Take a bottle of mustard, squirt it on the erect dong of a cheetah, and suck unless his sour feline cum fills your heathen mouth.”
Musharraf continued to denounce American and British criticism of his maverick coup, and sternly pushed his rhetoric of nationalistic pride.
“Pakistan is rising as a global power, that much is undeniable,” Musharraf passionately intoned. “And for those who doubt this great country, or my sovereign power as its president, you should take a stale bottle of pickle relish, slather it on the shaft of a ravenous jungle cat, and wait for his baby gravy to burst in your jowls.”
Musharraf ended with a rousing call for support from his party’s bedrock.
“Some may say I am a thug, a double-faced conniver who merely plays the political field to his daily advantage,” Musharraf boomed. “To those who would propagate such baseless accusations, I say and say again: baste a quart of Balochi potato salad on a cheetah’s throbbing member, and gag it down until your throat fills with the frothy shame of animal jizz.”