I never thought the letters you received were true, until I had a mind-blowing experience I'd like to share with your readers. I was taking a 60-mile motorcycle ride through Washington State back roads that make Deal's Gap look like a Nebraska highway, the pocketa-pocketa-pocketa of my finely-tuned steed singing a symphony as I passed Troy Bayliss on his Ducati like he was standing still, and all of this with my bike still in the shop. My riding group, composed of lean, muscular Gen-X boys whom I had taken under my wing (more on that in my next letter), stopped at a gas station where I beheld the most stunning creature I have ever seen in my 40, er, 45, uh, 42, uh, forty-something years on this Earth. She was a dusky Palestinian wearing skin-tight leathers and a Semtex belt. I nearly creamed my jeans imagining her binding my hands and feet as she probed my Bekaa Valley with the bayonet of her AK-47 while calling me her "dirty little Zionist entity." I instantly forgot about my wife/ex-wife/girlfriend/blow-up doll/semen-encrusted sock as l felt the burgeoning growth of all three inches of my "Seattle Space Needle" (that's eleven-and-a-half Chicago inches)...
Hey, he dated a Palestinian. He knows all about the last 100 years of Middle East history. Doesn't seem to want to acknowledge the Nazi/Palestinian link, though. Oh, wait - it happened out of his sight and before he was born, so it doesn't count.
And he still keeps referring to my watching Fox News despite me telling him about 1,000 times that I don't watch Fox News.
He continually beclowns himself.
(My last word on the Middle East - Israel produces a hugely disproportionate number of Nobel Prize winners, PhDs, etc etc. If Israel did not exist, "Palestine" would be just another willfully backwards Arab sh!thole.)