Please, please

Is there an antidote to chuckling? Please, give me the drug! I simply can't stop chuckling since I learned they creamed Osama Bin Mama's lard-ass! I just can't get off the chuckle wagon. I just regret that the Israelis didn't do it . . . they've done everything else!

No, that crafty bastard Obama did it . . . I'm just bursting with pride. That fucker swallowed it and looked totally normal to the world for weeks, kissing babies and making policies and all the time he knew he was going to ram a fucking missile up Bin Laden's ass. That's called a poker face!

I'm not a jingoist US-loving right-of-center but I just cannot keep from almost jumping up and down and shouting YES! YES! That motherfucker, who I lamentably called dead only months after 9/11, was alive all the time! Like a fucking cockroach, hiding in the gutters . . . I hope the entire time he was absolutely terrified. He should have been. I just wish I could have been there, with just one kick to the head . . . no, two. Make it a baseball bat and a razor blade.

He made the entire fucking world's life miserable for nigh on two decades and I puke in his grave. Thank god they just fucking killed him instead of capturing him. Sorry, they didn't kill him. They put him down.

Strike one, Obama! Strike three, Osama!