How I Committed Suicide and Lost My Virginity

And I'm walking towards the attack site with the explosive belt several sizes too big for me, and my pants keep falling down. I'm anxious that I might hiccup or cough or sneeze, and end up being one of those bumbling terrorists who only manage to blow themselves up without harming anyone else.

Homo (Source)

I dreamed I was a devout Muslim. And while it's disappointing that the Hadith is of a much lower quality than the Mishnah [Translator's note: Jewish oral law], at least the Muslims will respect me. And then they announce in the refugee camp that they need suicide bombers. And everyone says: By Allah, I'd really like to, but I can't, I have to work. Go take that devout Muslim, who spends all day killing himself in the world of Islam, sitting in the mosque and parroting the Quran like a parrot, not contributing to the GDP. He didn't even enlist in the resistance movement, the parasite. So they put an explosive belt on me, but because I didn't enlist, I'm the scrawniest terrorist, and I'm walking towards the attack site with the explosive belt several sizes too big for me, and my pants keep falling down. I'm anxious that I might hiccup or cough or sneeze, and end up being one of those bumbling terrorists who only manage to blow themselves up without harming anyone else. Actually, this thought is quite amusing to me, and I'm trying hard to hold back my laughter, attempting to think about sad things like Nakba and Naksa and bassa and ikhsa pikhsa [Translator's note: wordplay on Arabic terms for catastrophe], but of course that's exactly what happens, and from laughing so hard I wet myself, the belt gets wet - and boom. Well, at least according to Sharia law I'm still considered a martyr, and I haven't lost my seventy virgins. No need to tell anyone what really happened, and I'll tell the virgins I was a war hero - a real man.

And I start planning what to do with the virgins, because actually, it's not as simple as it sounds and it's best not to make mistakes at the beginning. Even with a very optimistic assumption that I'll have the virility for four times a day, it still means that each one will have sex less than once every two weeks, and that can cause problems, not to mention lesbians. It only takes one to corrupt them all. And let's not even talk about the possibility that I might not be able to get it up with the less attractive ones, I mean some have mustaches, and that's a recipe for insults and fights and complications that could turn paradise into hell. Not to mention how it would be with 70 women getting their periods together. And in general, virgins are very difficult, it's a nightmare. I need to start giving them a lecture on female sexuality, otherwise there will be trouble. And who knows if I'll live up to expectations. And here comes the angel in charge of the harem, and I whisper to him: I'm embarrassed to ask, but is there Viagra here? And the angel laughs: It's not what you imagine. And I ask: What do you mean? And the angel asks: Do you want love or just sex? We brought women of the kind capable of loving you, you don't want to rape them, right? And I say: God forbid, I respect women very much. And the angel laughs: Oh, you'll respect them alright. They're heavyweight leftists. And he closes the door behind me - boom.

And then I hear shouts: Here comes the oppressive patriarchal man, who's come to oppress us and thinks his phallus will rule us. We'll show him what sisterhood is, right sisters? And another one shouts: Leave him alone, he's in a state of alienation from his inner feelings, he needs re-education, to connect with his feminine side. And another pulls her hair: Stop being condescending to the maligned Mizrahi man [Translator's note: Jews of Middle Eastern or North African descent], you colonialist, enough with the Orientalist-racist paternalism. And another one curses her: You misogynistic beast and victim of self-hatred, every penetration is rape, let's show him what rape is. And another one with half a mustache and green hair, who defines herself as a gender that changes with every word, says: P.eople s.isters I ask and/or ask that we respect every p.erson as they/them/she/he/it. And here comes a vegan for whom meat is murder and therefore has nothing to grab onto, holding a knife and calling: Down with the patriarchy! Let's castrate him and liberate the balls of freedom from the tyranny of the phallus. And I cling to the wall and cry out: Dear virgins! I'm really sorry... I too am a victim of patriarchy and oppression! I can't be the man you've been waiting for all this time. And they rage: Why? And I wipe away a tear: Don't you understand? I... I'm gay.