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Be Careful What You Wish For
"Seventy-Two Virgins" -- a cautionary tale for jihadists, by Steve Martin in The New Yorker. Here's an excerpt:

Virgin No. 1: Yuck.

Virgin No. 2: Ick.

Virgin No. 3: Ew.

Virgin No. 4: Ow.

Virgin No. 5: Do you like cats? I have fourteen!

Virgin No. 6: I’m Becky. I’ll be legal in two years.

Virgin No. 7: Here, I’ll just pull down your zipper. Oh, sorry!

Virgin No. 8: Can we cuddle first?

Virgin No. 9: It was a garlic-and-onion pizza. Why?

Virgin No. 10: . . . so I see Heath, and he goes, “Like, what are you doing here?,” and I go, “I’m hangin’ out,” so he goes, “Like, what?” . . .

Virgin No. 11: First you’re going to have to show me an up-to-date health certificate.

Virgin No. 12: Hurry! My parents are due home!

Virgin No. 13: Do you want the regular or the special?

Virgin No. 14: I’m eighty-four. So what?

Virgin No. 15: Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!

Virgin No. 16: Even I know that’s tiny.

Virgin No. 17: “Do it”? Meaning what?

Virgin No. 18: I’m saving myself for Jesus.


Posted by aalkon at February 11, 2007 10:08 AM


#68. Guess it's time to throw out my Aramis cologne..... Now that I think about it, I've had it over a decade.

Posted by: eric at February 11, 2007 8:18 AM

I like #17. She sounds like a bitch.

Posted by: Lena at February 11, 2007 8:49 AM

I suspect bitches are better in bed.

Posted by: Amy Alkon at February 11, 2007 8:53 AM

#66 for me. I like a girl with an adventurous side...

Posted by: eric at February 11, 2007 9:19 AM

I like #65 -- who has a certain astronautish flair:

Virgin No. 65: They’re called “adult diapers.” Why?

Posted by: Amy Alkon at February 11, 2007 9:27 AM

I have to say I find I have a strange infatuation with the far out space nut. A woman of passion -- the ungolddigger. It's like a breath of fresh air after living in Hollywood for so long. So she has homicidal tendencies. Nobody's perfect.

Posted by: Paul Hrissikopoulos at February 11, 2007 10:36 AM

Eric - Are you British? Are there other brits in CDA?

Paul - We've been waiting all these years for an astronaut to do something manly and passionate, and here it is.

Posted by: Crid at February 11, 2007 2:33 PM

Crid- my dad was born in South Shields, England, my mom raised in Edinburgh, Scotland, but I was born in sunny Southern California. The makeup here in CDA is probably 97%+ Caucasian mix from Europe, most a couple generations back American. Before the baby, I got to travel to England at least once a year.... sorta like Amy with Paris is how I feel about London / Edinburg. Why do you ask?

Posted by: eric at February 11, 2007 4:08 PM

Just looking for clues! You mentioned it in a comment two years ago that I missed. Have you ever seen the red brick on Broad Street?

That is so cool.

Posted by: Crid at February 11, 2007 5:52 PM

That's great! Yep, hung out in Soho many a day- there is even a photo around here somewhere of me in the doorway of the John Snow Pub with a big rugby guy I pissed off, contemplating whether to pummel me or not.

Yeppers, one of these days we all gotta meet at some pub in Europe for a week or two.

LYT- theres a movie there somewhere. I get 1% of gross for the idea.

Posted by: eric at February 11, 2007 6:26 PM

I went to Edinburgh once, Eric, and loved it. Those gigantic stone stairways -- everyone lived in a friggin old castle of some sort. I met an old lady in a park, and she took me to her flat for some tea. She read my tea leaves. Total wacko. Loved the blood pudding wrapped in inky newspaper! I still have a couple of old singles by Scottish punk bands from the early 80s, Josef K, the Fire Engines.

Posted by: Lena at February 11, 2007 10:13 PM

Oh, my! I adored London and Edinburgh, and my best memories are of the people I met from loitering in public spaces at odd hours!

Edinburgh was memorable for me for all the evangelists who descended upon us in the park while we were playing frisbee to engage us in theological debate, along with the drunken atheist who loudly engaged the Presbyterians on our behalf! Then one of the evangelists took us out for haggis. :)

At the end of my London trip my friends and I found ourselves too broke to afford a hotel room for the night and my plane left at some ungodly hour the next morning anyway, so at 2 a.m., we decided to spend the night on the lawn of the National Gallery. To protect ourselves from potential attackers, our brilliant plan was to act completely crazy whenever anyone walked by. Well, everyone who passed by decided it was a party and joined us!!! We had about 20 people at one point, just laughing and talking. Awesome.

Posted by: Melissa G at February 12, 2007 8:03 AM

On one of my travels to (or from, it was a while ago) Edinburgh from London via train, I was sitting in the middle of a car with two opposing rugby fan squads. As they both were singing their team's song, louder and louder, a beer bottle went sailing past my head. Within minutes it was a melee, with fists and blood and shouting that lasted for a good half hour. They never stopped the train though, and in the end everyone seemed to have had a good time.

Posted by: eric at February 12, 2007 9:37 AM

I hit Edinburgh for Robbie Burns Day three decades ago. The compere offered a bottle of Scotch if I'd sing "Wee Willie Wallikie" ( which I have never heard ). I got it .... airliner size.

Posted by: opit at February 14, 2007 4:18 PM

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