I knew this day would come, when I would make the news. Granted, I thought I looked a little fat in my New York Times profile, but I've heard that "human fear" adds fifteen pounds -- especially when you're part fission, part fusion.
For years, I was an underground secret. President Ahmadinejad denied my existence to the public, but that was just a game -- I was his prize, his soul mate, and the mother of his children.
And I'm sure it pained him, to lie to the West. He claimed my existence was laughable -- but our love was anything but that. Mahmoud would come down, visit me, and whisper sweet nothings into my hydro-explosive chamber. I can't even remember how many times we watched Annie Hall together. Mahmoud loves Woody Allen.
But now my existence is common knowledge. I'm in the open. We're free to explore our love by romantically decimating the world. But that's love.
You know, being in a hole in the ground for an extended period of time really takes a toll on you -- just ask John McCain. I'm ready to spread my aerodynamic sensory flaps and see the world -- or destroy it, depending on my mood. But people don't want to hear about my detailed past, all they want to know is what I plan to do in the future. The West wants to know if I come in peace. Considering I have the capacity to kill millions of people, desolate miles of landmass, and probably dissect the seemingly unstoppable New York Jets' defense -- all in the drop of a bomb -- I'd say "peace" is about the last thing on my mind.
Mahmoud has always been an advocate for me to express myself in every way possible. He loves my poetry and thought my most recent screenplay was "sharply written and devastatingly murderous," like a young, cylinder-like Stanley Kubrick.
I've always loved to write. Maybe I can start one of those blogs. But what shall I blog about? Ah! How about I blog about each Democracy I destroy. Every time Mahmoud deploys me, I will take my MacBook with me, and write about how I've turned functional societies led by sane, Holocaust-informed leaders, into rubble-filled wastelands. And to think, if America had actually looked at their intelligence instead of getting involved with Iraq, I never would have been writing my first blog post here!
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