hi, my name is george w. bush.
i’m the president of the united states of america.
i have a message to osama bin laden.
osama, im calling you out.
i want to meet with you at an agreed-upon location and i want to beat your ass.
man to man.
face to face.
i’m sick, quite frankly, of this cat and mouse kiddie game of hide and seek and i am giving you one week to stand up to me as a man and take the licking you so deserve.
if you’re so badass, why don’t you meet me, the american white devil, anywhere you want so i can slap that stupid look off your face.
i know you’re probably thinking that this is a trap, that the armed forces of the united states, or the u.n., or the northern alliance will jump out from the bushes and capture your sorry ass, and imprison you.
but i’m hereby giving you temporary immunity. you have no excuse to decline this offer.
i swear upon my word as president, on my word as a Christian, on my word as an American citizen that your safety will be guaranteed up to your meeting with me. and if you survive the single handed texas asskicking that i will deliver on your person, i will assure your safety back into whatever dusty hole you’re currently hiding in.
but the only way you’ll get home is through me, osama, and only you would call that gopher hole home.
simply put, if you think you’re man enough to take me, i want a piece of you and i will do whatever it takes to make this happen.
im going to grab you with my own hands and prove to you, and to the world, that even though we are both sons of millionaire oil men, there’s a difference between you and i.
you are a slimy, lying, gutless, cheap-shot artist who hides behind religion and ignorance in your sick quest to have others murder innocent people under your twisted leadership.
you give cowards a bad name.
i am the embodiment of american vengence, and you’ve awaken an innocent giant who’s going to kick your clueless ass into tomorrow.
your mother’s womb weeps at its place in history
and your father’s nuts have shrivelled in shame.
we can do this in switzerland, or antarctica, or right in front of mecca for all i care you big nosed freak.
you can have as many of your measly bodyguards around me, if it’s me who you distrust, but i assure you that no one other than me will attack you.
somehow, i don’t expect the same sportsmanship from you.
but i don’t care, osama bin laden. this is what a leader should do.
before you have one of your goons take a sneaky sniper shot at me from 300 yards, allow me the pleasure to serve you a slice of texas justice, of american payback, if you are indeed a man.
which i doubt.
ive seen you walk on your hind legs, so you must at least be a mammal.
you have a beard, but so do many of your wives.
people refer to you as “he” so i assume you’re male, but i am curious as to if you are truly a man.
you’ve yet to act like one.
meet me at the coliseum in rome.
let me see who you are.
lets settle this beef you have with my country
and with freedom.
be there on time, you pathetic eyesore.
don’t pretend that you didn’t get this.
get off the little boy and come meet a man.
i’m going to be there and i’m going to be waiting for you with just my bare fists.
scum of the desert.
creator of lies.
with a face that neither your mother or allah could love.
prove to the world that you’re a man, and meet me.
noon, you dirty fake.