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Nothing Says “Found You!” Like a Double Tap to the Head

Brothers,

I received a call from my father at 10 o’clock Sunday night. All he said was, “Check Fox News.” I was in the middle of having a drink or two with some friends, so you can imagine the looks I got when the TV guide told us that the program was “The Royal Wedding Recap.” I thought pops had finally lost it. Instead, I was greeted by Geraldo’s moustache informing me of the demise of a certain Saudi Arabian Asshole, which would also be a sweet ass name for a drink (recipe ideas?). Well, you know the rest of the story, and if you’re any kind of serious about being an American, you’ve been drinking and rocking a full on patriot chub while jamming Boston’s Star-Spangled banner on repeat since then. I haven’t seen people this excited since my drunken pledge brothers discovered that the McRib was back at McDonald’s, except in this situation, the McRib is bin Laden and McDonald’s is Pakistan, and we just shot the McRib in the fucking face.

It’s nice to see that for a while, everyone can set aside their bullshit and celebrate the important things in life…a 5.56 mm round embedded in a scumbag’s cranium. It’s nice to be able to say that our President has done the unequivocally right thing. It’s nice to see a small victory among all of the shit that our boys go through. Here’s what I don’t like, though. I don’t like sea burials. Look, I get it. Give the man his Islamic ritual to prevent retaliatory attacks. Bury him at sea so that his grave doesn’t become a target, or worse, a shrine for radical douchers. I totally get that. I’m just pissed because I had some sweet ideas on what to do with the body that would have been fuckin’ tits. These ideas totally would have worked; I can even recommend a good taxidermist:

1. Set him up at the front door of CIA headquarters with his hand extended. This way, the first thing our Spooks do when they walk in for work is high-five bin Laden, as if to say, “Good game, bud. But don’t ever fucking play hide and seek with the USA.”

2. Use him in the final challenge of the History Channel’s phenomenal series, “Top Shot.” I’m thinking we set him up 700 yards away and have the two finalists hang upside down and try to tag his ass with a .50 cal.

3. Have a nationwide essay contest for kids ages 6-12 to win what I like to call “The Osama Piñata” for their next birthday. The subject of the essay will be: “Justify Sterling Cooper’s recent intramural outburst, and make a case for his banishment from intramural events to be lifted.” The winner will get to pummel bin Laden’s body at his/her (but let’s be honest, probably his) birthday party until it releases its contents. What would ordinarily be candy will be replaced by pocket Constitutions and fake ID’s for all his friends.

Finally, let’s all take a step back. This milestone is important, but we’ve got a long way to go. I vote that we take this week off from seriousness. Let’s celebrate what just happened properly. Drink bourbon because it’s American. Slam broads because it’s fun. Ignore liberals because they’re dumb. Buy every veteran you see a drink because it’s right. And above all, prepare for next week, because there are still a lot of terrorists threatening Lady Liberty. And I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to go back to war.

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Sterling Cooper

Sterling Cooper is a contributing writer for Total Frat Move and Post Grad Problems. He has never understood why people like sand, and has been in a bitter ten year rivalry with Muggsy Bogues, for reasons neither of them choose to reveal.

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