I swear, Mr. Bush. I had my bin Laden on the kitchen table, all ready to go, my mom had checked it and she said it looked good. I left it on the table because I knew that it was important for us to bring in our bin Laden today, because you told us that yesterday. But when I got downstairs this morning, the bin Laden was gone and my dog looked really guilty. And the bus was coming so I didn’t have time to look for it. I’m so sorry, it will never happen again.
Maybe my cheese slipped off the cracker, but:
I’m pretty sure that this was stolichnaya’s sarcastic take on how the Taliban has reacted to the US demands to turn over Bin Laden…
Am I right?
Actually, I would think that this is stolichnaya’s sarcastic take on the Taliban’s new claim that bin Laden is now missing.
And I think it’s hilarious. 
This is why I always keep a spare in my Hide-a-Bin, underneath my front fender.
Here you go.
I always look behind my sofa cushions first, then under the radiator and as a last resort, inside my slippers. Sometimes the ferrets hide things in there.
OKay…I had Osama when I went to the store, and I remember seeing him there by the lamp after I got back, so I didn’t leave him at the store. Did I check the bathroom? I don’t know why I’d take him in there, but maybe I did. No, not here. Wait, what jacket was I wearing?
Well, even though I knew this was probably going to be a news website when I clicked on the link, still, when I glanced at the headline and lead–
–I had the distinct impression that I’d stumbled into The Onion by mistake. Or into the “WTC possible Onion headlines” thread.
That is fuck-ing funny, dudes.
g’dammit!!!
Name the movie !
Name the movie or I’m going to have a fit here.
Hell, you just almost killed me. Death of office worker caused by aspirating banana.
Five will get you ten that we should pay a little special attention to anyone answering phones over at Taliban HQ wearing Groucho glasses.
“Osama who?”
Perhaps you left him in your other pants. Check carefully, you don’t want him going through the laundry.
Just dandy, stolichnaya!
“Well, Osama told us he was just running down to the 7-Eleven for a Big Gulp, but he didn’t say when he’d be back…dude, we’re totally good for it, man, as soon as he gets back he’s all yours”
Here’s the thing. I met Osama at a strip club last night where he was strictly observing Islamic law with a Gin Rickey. And in the interest of national security (and with a hope of shaking hands with Gehard Schroeder one day), I started innocently flirting with him, telling him how hot I thought the Anthrax crop dusting plan was…and I asked him for his phone number.
He stuttered a little bit, got a napkin and wrote his number down, and told me to meet him outside by his car. He said he’d be RIGHT THERE. He promised. He promised to buy me breakfast and everything. But he never showed. I waited until like 2:30.
stupid terrorists. They never call.
sniff
I love you guys.
That was from The Green Mile
I shot Osama bin Laden in my pajamas the other day. How he got into my pajamas, I’ll never know.
Think hard. Where did you have your bin Laden last?