Ok, first off, you dickheads weren't supposed to see those.  They were my private diaries, to be read only by myself, my family, and the janitor, Andy.  If you read page 42, you see why I cared about him.  So what, so I wrote some diaries, big deal.  It's just another of the many ways I'm like Anne Frank. 

I understand some of my subjects came as a surprise to some people, and I will address them now.  First off, the claim that I was scared to get AIDS.  Yeah, that's true.  You're not?  Did any of you see Philadelphia?  That shit's not cool.  I know most of you have probably only seen Rent and think AIDS makes you a better singer and you get to date Rosario Dawson (which may also be true) but it's also really bad for you. 

There are also a number of STDS that American soldiers probably have because of the amount of pussy they get.  I would also think that there would be a fair amount of pregnancies as well, as I understand they're prevented from pulling out.  So what if I thought having my clothes dry on the same line as them meant I could catch their STDS?  That seems reasonable.  A gentle breeze could blow all the crabs from the boxers of Captain Fucks 'Em All right onto my Scooby Doo tighty-whities. 

There are also claims that I wrote that Iran is a bigger threat to the Middle East then Israel.  This is also true.  Don't get me wrong, I dislike Jews just as much as the next Gibson, but Iran is actively pursuing nuclear weapons, sponsors some of the worst terrorists in the world (Hezbullah, Mahdi Army, the teamsters)  and are led by a crazy little bastard with a Napoleon complex and the short beard of a guy on a three week heroin bender.  Keep an eye on that dude.

I was surprised that some things didn't make the news.  Like the day I wrote about how my captives and I played RISK throughout the night and drank Keystone Light until one of the guys passed out.  At that point, they were all drunk enough to let me draw a big, vein-y cock on the guy's face.  I almost won the game, but they stopped me at Kuwait.  Deja vu.

I'm sure a lot of you probably think I also recorded some of my more famous sexual conquests over the years.  I did not, but just in case you're curious here you go: Barbara Walters (she did everyone in the 70s), Jane Fonda, the Snapple Lady, Sally Jesse Raphael, Mia Farrow, that chick from Blondie, Billie Jean King, and Princess Di.  Yep, we did it.  Accept it, world.  Accept it.  And you want the truth?  She wasn't even that good.  Billie Jean King was better, and that was like banging Elton John.  

Most people are aware about my passion for cigars, but I have also been known to puff on cigarettes, joints, crack pipes, and, in college, the occassional pole.  I was well aware of the health effects of such behavior, but it turns out getting invaded is much more hazardous.  Those bastards wouldn't even let me go out with a cigar in my mouth.  Allah forbid I get cancer before they hang me.
 
I saw recently that American movie companies are being pressured to eliminate smoking from movies, or if they are included that could change the rating.  Really, America?  No smoking in movies?  I just hope they don't go back and alter the classics.  It's gonna suck to see Humphrey Bogart munch on a cherry popsicle in Casablanca.  Though it might not be all bad.  I would love to see Ann Bancroft deep throat a hot dog in The Graduate. 
 
Everyone knows smoking is bad for you.  If you don't, you're stupid and the world is better off without you.  If it's so bad, why do people still smoke?  Because it's easy, fun, and probably the coolest thing you can do aside from a Dixie Chick 4-Way.  (Came close in 2002).  Your president Bill Clinton has also shown there are multiple uses to cigars.  Before reading about that, I hadn't realized you can also use them to poke fat chicks. 
 
Plus, there are just some times when you need to smoke.  When a loved one dies, or you've just had mind blowing sex, or when a loved one dies during mind blowing sex.  I'm sorry, but a blow-pop just isn't going to cut it.  And isn't it fun watching the smoke swirl around in the air.  It's so seductive, isn't it?  That's the kind of seduction you can't quite achieve with a twizzler.  Smoking is seen as something rebellious and for adults, like sex.  But also like sex, it has been marketed to teens and they've started doing it at younger and younger ages.  This is wonderful.  There's few things funnier than seeing a ten year old smoke.  Like a nine year old smoke.  Or a cat.  That how you know you're in a rough neighborhood, when you see the cats smoking.
 
I haven't even talked about pot yet.  I'm not as big of a fan because unlike the legal drugs, it doesn't kill people.  Still, I've had some pretty decent highs in my day.  Plus, if you plan on watching MTV or anything with Dax Sheppard, you should be high as balls so you don't try jumping off the nearest bridge.  Then again, if you do either, maybe you should.  Pot grows naturally, though if you find yourself in a city you can probably just go to the nearest liberal arts college.  They usually have pretty good shit.  Even if they don't, you can get by on sluts and beer: the Charlie Sheen diet.
 
And I'm sick of how smokers are treated as second class citizens.  If there's anything I can't stand, it's discrimination (unless your Jewish, Shiite, Kurdish, female, midget, blonde, bald, old, gay, fat, really really tall, blind, deaf, retarded, crippled, Asian, babies, douche bags that cite Family Guy jokes to represent a sense of humor, and eskimos).  Everyone that I like is created equal, and that includes smokers (and Hugh Laurie. 'House' rules!)  So if you want to be cool, and a rebel, and give a rat's ass what I think of you: light up and I'll see you soon.

A while ago I wrote about how much I loved your Wal-Mart (in case you missed it, scroll down).  While that is true, I felt the need to write about another (rare) thing I like about America, and that is the television show America's Funniest Home Videos.  Or as we call it in Iraq, Great Satan: Sore Balls.

The reason I love the shit out of this show should be pretty obvious.  It consists of Americans hurting themselves, from falling off of roofs to falling off of roofs and landing on lawnmowers.  (Lawnmower is also what I call my tongue during intercourse.  If you steal that joke, I will haunt you.  No lie.)  I've always been a big fan of other people getting hurt, but on most  TV shows the suffering is fake.  Those people on The Sopranos didn't really die.  Except Drea de Matteo. I think she killed herself after "Joey".  Good call.

No, the pain felt on AFV, and my boner-inducing joy from watching it-are very real and powerful.  I don't think I've ever laughed at anything as hard as that show, other than the time I saw Dennis Miller live in Vegas, but I was pretty shit-faced at the time and thought he was Kenny Rogers. You'd have thought I'd have caught on due to his lack of singing and references  to Henry Ford in a rim-job joke, but then you'd be underestimating the effects of nine boilermakers and shot of some red stuff.

I don't just watch AFV for the nut-shots either, though that's like the show's "Kramer".  I also enjoy the guys wipe out while water skiing, the women that get their hair caught in the dishwasher (that wouldn't happen in a burkah) and the chick whose water broke during her wedding.  That's a tough one to cover up.  Especially if it's not the husband's:

Reverend: Does anyone have any reason why these two should not be wed?
(Small hand sticks out from bottom of wedding dress)

Then of course, there are the sports-related injuries: foul balls hitting moving cars, band members getting tacked on the football field, and who can forget the time that cheerleader landed on the trombone and virtually eliminated the chance of any non-horse from satisfying her sexually for the rest of her life.  Good laugh on that one. 

What I like most about the show is that is demonstrates that these kind of humorous mishaps (that usually lead to broken bones, sprains, or marriages) can happen to anybody, not just hillbillies that think keys belong in light sockets.  Although if you're out there, hillbillies, and someone was able to work your letter button thing and clicky circle well enough to get you to my intra-net picture and read to you this particular word group, yes, keys do go into light sockets.  Tape yourself doing this and send it to Saddam Hussein, 666 Mark of the Beast Avenue, Hell City, Hell 666-66(6).  You can also tape yourself playing games like dodge-hammers, step-on-the-old lady, and Parachutes are for Pussies (from  the nearest water tower).  These would be greatly appreciated and the  winner will win a free trip to hell.  (Producers note: Players of Parachutes are for Pussies will automatically win)

There's not a lot of things I like about America.  You're lazy, fat, stupid, self-centered, arrogant, horny, and gay.  Not the kind of gay that makes you good at design and interior decorating, the lame kind of gay.  Like "What do you mean I have to go to trial? Gay."  Your lack of knowledge about foreign countries and those that inhabit them has led to your current problem in my sweet Iraq, your economy has gone down faster than Louie Anderson on a hoagie, and gas prices are increasing by the second.  Just in this last paragraph, it's gone up 10 cents.  Go ahead, check.  I'll wait.  Told you.  Sucks doesn't it. 

However, despite all my reservations about America (including that little overthrowing me thing) there is still one business I have come to respect and admire.  Wal-Mart.  Why?  Because it's almost as evil as I am, but thanks to its every day low prices, you can't help but shop there.  It's like the cute, slutty girl in school that all the guys joke about to each other in public, but when they need a last minute handjob or a chilly hobo, they're already dialing her number.  (FYI, a chilly hobo is when you place the penis between your hands and then squeeze it as you rub your hands back and forth much the same way a hobo does over a garbage fire to keep his hands warm.  If performed on a woman, it's the same motion except in the vagina.  Go ahead kids, give it a try!)

Also, if you're like me, you can't stand the idea of small, independent mom and pop shops all over.  I don't care what color their wind jacket and matching pants are, these people are dangerous and need to be stopped.  Hey, mom and pop, you want to do something productive with your lives in your old age?  Start a band.  You can write a bunch of songs like "In my day...",  "Where's the fucking remote now?",  "Are you my daughter?", and "You know who I miss? Coolidge", and then forget where you placed them.  Leave the capitalism to professionals.

A lot of other stores would be content with just the basic goods aspect of retail and leave the banking, eating, medicating, hair styling, and eye exams to other businesses.  Not Wal-Mart.  Now they have pretty much everything except whores, although if you catch a lady shopping at Wal-Mart, chances are there's not a lot of things she won't do for fifty bucks.  It's those Bloomingdale's chicks you've got to work to get into.

Another absolutely beautiful aspect of Wal-Mart is its superficial patriotism.  I don't know if this is true, but I'm OK with lying, that Wal-Mart has the largest collection of American flags that aren't made in America.  How precious is that?  Everything there is made from China, except the whores, but that only depends on the location. 

And the best part is that everybody knows this, and still goes there.  It doesn't matter what they do as long as people can get their five dollar 40 western movie packs and "Git 'Er Done' tee-shirts.  Plus it's always fun to see the handicapped people in the entry way.  How does that not tempt more people to steal?  Granted the prices are so low you may as well pay them, but even if you did decide to bolt with some non-purchased chips, who's going to stop you, the old guy in the wheelchair or the lady that's chewing on her candy necklace?

My only problem with Wal-Mart is that there doesn't seem to be enough of them.  They give you everything you need, and yet some towns only have one. You wonder why the terrorists hate you.  Notice I didn't criticize Americans for being greedy.  You can be more greedy with Wal-Marts because they're so successful.  They're like the New York Yankees of retail.  (Pamida?  The Kansas City Royals.)  So, in case there's any of you out there that think old Saddam doesn't like anything to do with your country, you're wrong.  I love Wal-Mart.  And barely legal porn.

Dane Cook: You're a comedian that isn't funny.  That's like a virgin whore.  But I'll get to Hannah Montana later.  Dane, you're annoying, sweaty, loud, and  stupid.  The only difference between you and Rush Limbaugh is 200 pounds and a teen-choice award.  I saw Employee of the Month a while ago.  When it comes to the art of acting, you make Charles Barkley look like Nicholson in Cuckoo's Nest.

Britney Spears: She'll probably beat me to it.

The "Can You Hear Me Now?" Guy: Yes, I can hear you every fucking commercial.  The reception is always great, just like my urge to see you dismembered by a pack of under-fed mountain lions in front of your children.  Assuming you found a woman drunk enough to let you bone her.  "Are you in me now?"  Hey, you know where the reception might be kind of fuzzy?  Basra.  You should go there.

Kabbil Hassam el-Baddib: I lent you 10 dinars in eight grade and still haven't gotten them back.  Fuck you!  I'm glad I had your brother killed.

Paris Hilton: The Katherine Hepburn to Dane Cook's Humphrey Bogart.  I could probably let you live if you served any other purpose besides getting you picture taken and catching the occasional man-load on the chin.  But you don't.  'I would kill you with a goat.  I would kill you on a boat.  I would kill you by a wharf, I would kill you on a dwarf'.  I decided to switch to Dr. Seuss speak so she could understand me better.  I think she might be retarded.

Dick Clark: I have nothing against you personally, Dick.  You seem like a nice enough guy and thanks to your New Year's Eve Specials, you've seen more balls drop than a middle-school gym teacher.  It's just that you're older than the wheel and there's no need to keep at it, my friend.  Death isn't that bad.  No hangovers, no age of consent (heaven might be different.  R Kelly will love it down here).  And, for the love of Allah, if you do decide to finally end it, take Nancy Grace with you.

The Dog Whisperer: You could've saved my marriage.

When the Prince of Peace found out that I had a blog on the internet, he expressed his interest in an interview.  Apparently he feels he has been misrepresented in the living mainstream media and popular culture.  The following is an excerpt from a meeting I had with Satan shortly after his visit with Sean Hannity.

SADDAM: So how did it go?
SATAN: Alright. (sips from long island, with legs crossed)
SADDAM: So what were some of the concerns you wanted addressed with this interview?
SATAN: Well, you know what it's like to be taken out of context and that kind of stuff.  Don't get me wrong, I know I'm a bad guy.  I'm ok with that.  But I'm not nearly as evil as people think.
SADDAM: Really?
SATAN: I know it sounds shocking, but it's the truth.  I have feelings too.  I write songs. (another sip)
SADDAM: Songs?
SATAN: Oh, yeah.  Not just rock, either.  Folk, blues.  You know that tune, Independence Day?
SADDAM: The Martina McBride anthem against domestic abuse?
SATAN: Yeah.  That was me.
SADDAM: I had no idea.
SATAN: See, this is what I'm talking about.  You know how people never blame God when shit happens.  Well, it's the opposite with me. 
SADDAM: You're saying no one gives you credit when you allow good things to happen.
SATAN: Exactly.  And do you have any idea how many people watch that lie detector show on FOX?
SADDAM: No idea.
SATAN: Yeah, me neither.  But that was all me too, and people seem to like that.  But do I get the credit? (slowly shakes head)
SADDAM: Do you resent God?
SATAN: We all have to play our parts.  I lost.  Props to him.  I knew I was an underdog going in, but hey, I was young.  Maybe if I had had Eli Manning, huh?
SADDAM: Good one.
SATAN: Thanks. But uh, no, I have no beef with God.  I mean, the way I look at it, I get to use lust, sex, greed, money, fame, and power to lure people toward me.  If I can't get them with that, I deserve to lose them.  You know what I mean?
SADDAM: Sure, I get ya.
SATAN: I mean it only took a little bit of power to get you.  Well, power and those secret homosexual urges you got every time you watched 21 Jump Street that led you to kill.
SADDAM: Johnny Depp is a weakness, yes.  So why don't you tell us who you've been working with recently?
SATAN: Well, I just got done meeting with Sean Hannity.  He and I are pretty close.  Uh, let's see.  Who else?  Well, there's that guy in Iran, bin Ladin, Disney, I'm working on a show with Leslie Nielsen.
SADDAM: OK.
SATAN: Other than that, I'm also putting the finishing touches on my memoirs. 
SADDAM: I heard about that.  I bet that was an experience.
SATAN: Yeah, it runs about 800,000 pages.  I decided to call it 'The Purpose Driven Afterlife'. 
SADDAM: What's the purpose?
SATAN: Pussy.  No that's a joke.  Uh, well, I'd have to say temptation. 
SADDAM: Care to elaborate?
SATAN: Sure.  Thanks to all my workers up on earth, people have their priorities all fucked up.  As long as think money, objects, and appearance are what's important in life, I've got a good chance at getting them.  The key is to make them feel like crap.  That they're not, nor will ever be, good enough.  Once you break people down, it's easy to get them to strive for acceptance.  In this case, acceptance involves making as much money as you can and buying more shit than the guy next to you.
SADDAM: Pretty elaborate plan.
SATAN: Thanks.  You mind if I smoke?
SADDAM: Go for it.
SATAN: Thanks (lights up cigarette) Hope I don't get cancer.  Where was I?  Right.  Well, I guess the important thing is to keep people from caring for each other.
SADDAM: But I thought you were really a nice guy.
SATAN: I didn't say that.  I said I wasn't as bad as people think.  I mean I want their soul and everything, but I also get emotional sometimes.  You know that scene in Million Dollar Baby when Hillary Swank bites her tongue to try to drown herself in her own blood?
SADDAM: Powerful stuff.
SATAN: Fucking right.
SADDAM: Do you feel guilty about taking souls?
SATAN: Not really.  I mean it's not like people don't have a choice.  I don't make people sell guns they know will be used to kill people for money.  I just make large, expensive boats look appealing on TV.  If they want to buy them, that's their option.
SADDAM: I can see from the guy over there that's not being tortured our time is almost up.
SATAN: Oh, shit, he's here already.  Yeah, I guess.  Thanks for the time.
GUY: You don't have to rush.
SATAN: Did I say you could talk, motherfucker?
GUY: Sorry.
SATAN: Damn right, you're sorry.

According to a new study done by the Center for Disease Control and Prevention (as opposed to the organization I founded, the Center for Disease Creation and Spreading it Everywhere) found that one in four American girls are infected with at least one of the sexually transmitted diseases that was tested for; which are HPV, Chlamydia, Trichomoniasis, and the Herps.  The highest percentage was HPV with roughly 18%.  Additionally, 15% percent of the girls tested had more than one disease, and were classified as Very Popular.

The 26% of girls that ended up having some form of crotch rot translates to about 3 million girls across the U.S. Also, about 4 of that 26 percent can be traced back to Gene Simmons.  4800 women Gene?  If you're not bullshitting, that's pretty fucking impressive.  Pun intended.  That puts you about 4800 women ahead of Lance Bass. 

As part of my effort to be a much more considerate dictator now that I'm in hell, I have some advice for how to combat this rampant epidemic. Some people argue that teens today need to have more safe sex education.  This is crap.  The less they know about sex, the better.  In fact, instead of learning about how sex works young students (6ish) should just be shown raw, uncut footage of their parents fucking.  The uglier the parents, the more turned off the kids will be.  Then when that footage is done, you show them a tape of the Hindenburg so they learn to equate intercourse with many, many people dying.  This way, none of the kids will want to have any sex, except for the sick bastards with step-moms and a desire to kill many, many people.

If that doesn't work, how about this.  It's the girls with the diseases, right?  And what helps women enjoy intercourse besides being tied up?  The clitoris.  In some Middle Eastern countries, it's removed so the girls will no longer enjoy sex and not cheat on their husbands.  This process seems to work well for the 8% of men that can find the clitoris.  If the girl doesn't enjoy sex, she's less likely to want to do it, unless she wants a promotion or something.

Maybe the problem is how provocatively your girls dress in America.  By showing off their mid-riff, long legs, large breasts, tight asses, and pouting lips (that's just the sixth graders) of course that's all the boys can think about is tapping that.  But I guarantee you if those girls were required to turn in those belly shirts for ponchos and their mascara for ski masks, the boys around them can entertain their imagination with other things (like world domination) and also not have to worry about hiding any erections behind their trapper keepers.

Up until now, I have largely ignored the conditioning of young boys.  Obviously they are going to have their urges, but there are different outlets besides girls (masturbating, priests, masturbating priests)  that they can turn to.  Spreading the belief that vaginas have teeth might also work to deter them, and then tell them a heart-wrenching bedtime story about their wonderful great, great grandfather that fought in some war and saved an entire village of people from a horrendous threat; but upon bedding a young lass as a show of gratitude, from her appreciative father, the great great grandfather died that night from a loss of blood after the girl's canine infested snatch bit his pecker clean off.  Then kiss their forehead and shut off the light to let that story sink in.

Or you could educate the kids about safe sex, but come on, where's the physical and psychological damage in that? 

My favorite news story this week was New York Governor Elliot Spitzer resigning after allegations that he was involved in a high class prostitution ring that sent upper class whores (own their own soap) to expensive hotels in some of the major U.S. cities.  This wouldn't be that ironic if Spitzer hadn't already cracked down on two prostitution rings previously; evidently because they wouldn't serve him.  Spitzer is a Democrat, obvious from the fact his prostitute was a girl.

Under the name "Client 9", Spitzer met with one of those upper class whores (read at third grade level) at an upscale Washington Hotel, paying $4,300 in cash for a 5'5" petite, pretty brunette at 105 pounds, or as I call them: happy meals.  I'm sure his came with a toy.

I don't see what your problem is in America.  It's ok to dress your ten year old girls like whores, but your governors can't bang them to relieve some stress every now and then?  Who's he supposed to bang, his wife?  Gross.  I don't know if you people are aware of this, but infidelity does not impact the way somebody governs, which is what you elected them for.  If you want a governor that's going to stay faithful to his wife, they have to look like Mrs. Kucinich.  Only Amanda Beard gets me harder.  Like to wear her like a beard.

Speaking of upper class whores (straight teeth), why is prostitution illegal in every state except Nevada?  It's the oldest profession in the world.  That's like outlawing farming.  You can make it legal, then tax it.  The more upper class the whore (no anal) the higher the tax.

For those of you that think I'm being hypocritical because of the way I treated women under my rule, that's just stuff I did for reputation's sake.  As the leader of Iraq, I was expected to treat women as inferiors.  In reality, I gladly would have let them sell their bodies for sex.  I probably would have been a preferred customer. Unlike Jews, I tip. 

There's nothing shameful about sex (except for the way it's done on beast tube- I don't care who you are, pigs should not fuck people) and a country that glorifies and basks in it like the U.S. shouldn't not be surprised when the men you grant so much power to use some of that power to bang high class whores (no track marks) that make their wives look like the Crypt Keeper.

Bottom Line: Anyone that works for a living ought to be able to spend that money on whatever they want, including high class whores (not cross-eyed) or low class whores (no eyes). 

It's nice to see that the American Congress has nothing better to do with its time than to investigate Major League Baseball.  That is why you went into my country right, to check for steroids?  I guess I should've told you guys I quit that shit in college.  People started getting suspicious when I batted .784 and hit 38 homeruns during our eight game season.  We lost in the play-offs to the Basra Peaceful Doves.  (Yeah, I get the irony)
 
You'll have to forgive me if I don't see the importance of this issue.  Should Barry Bonds have an asterisk next to his record?  I care more about what kind of music Pat Robertson likes to listen to.  (FYI, it's The Oak Ridge Boys and NWA)  Obviously he took steriods.  No one hits puberty at 29.  Does that matter?  Don't people go to baseball games for the homeruns?  And don't get me started on Raphael Palmeiro.  First steroids, then Viagra.  "I don't care if it's tiny, as long as it's HARD!" 
 
Which brings up a good point.  Is it worth it, as a man (or Russian woman) to have unparalled strength if that also makes your genitals shrink?  I gotta buddy (well had a buddy, I'm dead now) on my team that never quit the steroids.  I accidentally caught a glimpse of him in the shower years later and his junk looked like a knuckle-less thumb resting on a pair of marbles.
 
I also took some interest when that congressmen came out with the list of all the players in Major League Baseball that have used steroids.  I didn't know who the fuck they were.  I was checking to see how big their heads were.  It's funny the way steriods messes with your body.  Balls shrink, head blows up, acne on the back.  Fuck that, I'll settle for ground ball singles.  Although I guess if you're a woman, they're cheaper than a sex-change operation.  I heard that's what Kathleen Turner used. 
 
I also read that that stuff also reduces your sperm count, lowering your chances at making children.  This comes as a blessing for those of us that watch the illiterate strongmen on ESPN 2 that stack the cars on top of eachother/tear phone booths apart and hope they don't breed. 
 
Some other people I don't want to breed:  Britney Spears, anyone that's ever been on The Real World/Road Rules, guys over the age of 10 with mullets, women with unintentional mid-rifts, people who think Elvis is still alive, whoever wrote "Two Weeks Notice", anyone that dresses their pets to look like people, Larry the Cable Guy fans, Rush Limbaugh, anyone who's favorite color is silver, Kurds, women with too much arm hair, men with no arm hair, Ashlee Simpson, Ashton Kutcher, The Olsen Twins, Andy Dick, any Bush (including Billy), and Amy Winehouse, who would no doubt make Andrea Yates look like Carol Brady. 
 
People that should breed as often as possible: Tom Brady, Charlize Theron, George Clooney, Ted Nugent (that should mix things up a little), hot teens that don't fit previous categories, James Denton from Desperate Housewives (I'm not gay, but he could persuade me) fans C.S.I. and House, Jenny Finch (go ahead, try looking her up and not touching yourself) Tom Waits, and, with all respect, Carmen Electra would be doing humanity a large favor by never coming out of the bedroom. 
 
Peace.