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Asma bint Marwan

The Stages of Jihad

By Wolfgang Bruno.

2005-3-18

Wolfgang Bruno is an author writing a book about the Internet movement of ex-Muslims. All of Bruno’s essays can be freely published and reprinted by anybody who wants to.


Miguel Mendex vs Ali Sina

From: MIGUEL MENDEZ To: faithfreedom2@gmail.com Date: Apr 26, 2006 10:16 PMDEAR ALI SINA I'VE STUMBLED ON YOUR WEBSITE BY MISTAKE. I DID READ THE MISEDUCATION YOU ARE PROVIDING TO PEOPLE. I DO RESPECT YOUR BOLDNESS BUT NOT YOUR CHALLENGE. NOT BECAUSE I AGREE WITH YOU, I WON'T CHALLENGE YOU BECAUSE IT WILL BE MEANINGLESS. YOUR HAVE A ERRONEOUS-VIEW ABOUT ISLAM AND ITS PROPHET.

The Search for Yaser Abdel Said (Part 36)

Okay, so the game was up. “On the count of three…” the gun would go off and they would see who the coward was…”Mr. Piffy. So Che Guevara had figured out who he was. It hadn’t taken much—Piffy had given himself away repeatedly, he couldn’t blame everything on Asma bint Marwan and the chances were one hundred to one that Ward Churchill’s patron saint had stuffed enough bullets up his butt to blow Bernard Piffy to Kingdome Come with a few left over for the peanut farmer from Plains, Georgia. A double-homicide was in the offing.

The Search for Yaser Abdel Said (Part 33)

It wasn’t Des Moines, Iowa, or Gun Blast, Texas, it was Gaza City, the land of Yasser Arafat and Hamas, of car bombings, honor killings and nasty old men filled with 1,400 years of hatred. But no one had promised Piffy a rose garden, least of all Asma bint Marwan. He got off the bus from Rafah carrying puppy dog in a covered birdcage—yes, a covered birdcage. The mutt was sound asleep and no one could see inside so no one was the wiser. The first thing Piffy noticed about Gaza was the smell, a combination of cooking oil, horse and donkey sweat and raw sewage.

The Islamic Psycho



What brought you here?: 
Does Islam means peace ? The danger of Islam.

The Search for Yaser Abdel Said (Part 32)

Asma bint Marwan could be very persuasive when she crossed her legs and looked into Piffy’s eyes. There was far more thigh than miniskirt and that suited Piffy just fine. She was like Marilyn Monroe standing over a heating grate designed by the Marquis de Sade. She would have given Potsie Weber a heart attack. There wasn’t anything in the world Bernard Piffy would have liked better at the present time than a trip in bint Marwan’s magic oscillating traveling bra—her time warp—the magnificent H. G.

The Search for Yaser Abdel Said (part 24)

The nikab proved to be an excellent disguise. No one paid much attention to him. He passed within an arm’s length of three different Bobbies and one even smiled at him. He got back to his apartment without any difficulty It was when Piffy removed the nikab that he discovered that Asma bint Marwan, as usual, had had the last laugh. Secreted in one of the pockets of the bulky garment was puppy dog! Yes, puppy dog! The infernal pooch had been dozing. It came awake at the first touch—or maybe it was the sudden exposure to fresh air. It bared its shark’s teeth and hissed like a cat. Piffy set St.

The Search for Yaser Abdel Said (part 18)

The Professor looked up from the newspaper he had been reading. “If I didn’t know better,” he said, “I would think this was our man Piffy, but that couldn’t be. It would be ludicrous to even think so.” “Piffy?” said Joe. “Our man in London?” Joe was proprietor of Joe’s Bar and Grille and Gun Club. “What’s he up to now?

The Search for Yaser Abdel Said (part 16)

Oh, yes, he had went and done it this time! No one in the history of law enforcement had ever attempted a more ridiculous hair-brained scheme—not Inspector Clouseau; not Maxwell Smart, not Tracer Bullet; not Deputy Dawg. It was a new low—for him, for his profession, for humankind. What on earth had possessed him to think he could pull off something so incredibly stupid? Asma bint Marwan?

The Search for Yaser Abdel Said (Part 15)

If only he had been Mike Hammer or Hulk Hogan or even George Costanza, he might have had a chance, but he was Bernard Piffy—worse yet, a ten-year-old Bernard Piffy, a puny little kid who would have had trouble handling Shirley Temple on the deck of the Good Ship Lollipop, and here he was in the clutches of King Kong’s Siamese twin, the notorious Yaser Abdel Said. At least he thought it was Said. And it was all thanks to Asma bint Marwan and the latest of her hair-brained schemes. He would be lucky if he got out of this alive! And then he got angry—very angry.


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