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Dear diary: a humorous look at the musings of Osama bin Laden




Supporters of Afghanistan's Taliban movement shout slogans in favor of Osama Bin Laden.
Supporters of Afghanistan's Taliban movement shout slogans in favor of Osama Bin Laden.
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We’ve learned about al Qaida leader Osama bin Laden’s diary entries on planning mass casualty terrorist attacks, on continuing the global jihad in the face of American aggression and his musings on the state of Islam. But what about the mundane details of bin Laden’s five years hiding out in Pakistan? Did he complain about being trapped in close quarters with his wife (wives); did he spy on any of his neighbors; did he long for the simple pleasures of the outside world, like a big flat screen TV or a BLT on rye bread? KPCC and Patt Morrison have obtained exclusive access to bin Laden’s diary and we will bring you excerpts of the al Qaida leader’s life behind the walls of his Abbottabad compound. From his demands that his kids clean up the living room to his long deliberations on what robes to wear for a given day, Patt goes beyond the pesky terrorism stuff and drills down on the life of Osama bin Laden.

Guests:

Alonzo Bodden, regular on Comedy Congress; winner of season 3 of NBC’s Last Comic Standing and regular performer and field correspondent for The Tonight Show with Jay Leno

Ben Gleib, regular on Comedy Congress; touring stand up comic, regular panelist on the E! Network’s Chelsea Lately, regular performer on the CBS The Late Late Show and on NBC’s Last Call with Carson Daly

Diary exclusives as imagined by

  • Ben Gleib
  • Dear diary,

    August 4, 2007
    It has been a veeeery long day. It's year 4. Still stuck in this
    compound.
    I'm so lonely. My 4 wives are no help. I can't even remember three
    of their names. Plus they are no help because I don't respect women
    enough to talk to them.
    Starting to think maybe attacking america was a stupid idea.
    No one understands me.
    In this isolation, it's starting to feel like everyone is an infidel.
    Even my courier has been looking at me funny. I fear i will be alone
    forever.

    Dear Diary,

    January 22, 2008
    I am bored. My email server is very slow. I mean the guy has to
    walk forty miles and wait for gamers to be done playing doom at the
    local internet cafe to even send my messages out. Then i have to
    wait 9 days for him to return. so as not to arise suspicion. but i
    suspect he is banging a girl in Islamabad, and that too is the
    culprit to blame for his long absences.

    So be it. time is a neverending spinning top in here. much like in
    the movie inception.
    that leonardo dicaprio is really wonderful. anywho, goodnight, and
    good luck.

    Dearest of all diaries,

    March 9, 2008
    Osama here again. ah, who am i kidding, you probably know that by
    now. i'm going to be blunt. i miss the relationship i USED to have
    with america. they used to give me gifts. weapons. money. their
    undying support. then, inexplicably, things started to change.
    Russia gets out of our hair, and, suddenly out of the clear blue sky,
    i start feeling the USA is just not that into me. i mean i'll always
    have the weapons they gave me. but i miss the affection. i miss the
    phone calls. most of all, i miss ronald reagan. he spoiled me like
    only a real sugar daddy can. he was my daddy warbucks. and i was his
    little orphan osama.

    Dearest of all diaries,

    December 25th, 2009.
    Feeling particularly powerful today. I don't know why exactly. It's
    a good hair day. Plus some dude on an airplane in america attempted
    to blow up his underwear. Sounds like a painful way to go to me.
    But I appreciate the effort. And I bet his testicles appreciate that
    it was a botched attempt! Heyo! But for real though, it's kin dof
    impressive what i've done. i mean i suffered from depression for a
    couple years, i suggest people do some cracy things, and suddenly,
    boom, i'm this big feared mastermind. Baiting people into terrorist
    acts. Thats what a mastermind does. He baits. If he's particularly
    good, he masterbates. What? that's the way a mastermind baits
    people. Get your mind out of the gutter. But for real though. My
    al queda dudes are too loyal. I mean they kill themselves to punish
    people a world away, who they have never met. because I got annoyed
    back in the day that those people built military bases in my home
    country. I don't even care anymore. HAven't been bothered by it in
    over a decade. But this perception of anger had kind of become my
    thing. So may as well go with it. It gives me respect!
    But my guys, I mean really, are they gullible or what? I mean they
    murder themselves to get 72 girls in heaven who have never had sex?!
    I can't believe they bought that. i have 4 wives! they are my
    goddesses. WINNING! sorry. just love me some charlie sheen. he
    just tells it like it is. by the way, did you know that his producer
    chuck lorre's real name is chaim. that means he's a jew. pretty
    funny right? anywho, point is these guys are killing themselves for
    virgins, and I have 4 girls here who have done it plenty of times,
    and i got to tell you. it's overrated. However, i do grant you,
    it's hard to get turned on when your wife has just cut a whole in a
    burka. and all you get to see is her nose and eyes. I mean i am a
    nose man, but still, it gets old. literally. Okay, enough jokes!
    Anywho, my eyelids are feeling droopy, and I already had far too much
    haggen daaz, so Osama's been enough of a bad boy for one evening.
    good night. and good luck. all my love, OBL.

    Dearest of all diaries,

    April 29, 2011.
    My courier finally brought over that X Box i've been dying for. The
    graphics are incredible. It really feels like you are killing
    people. Not that i would know. I'm always having my followers do it
    for me. i mean really these guys gotta start thinking for
    themselves. it's like i'm sick of them being so needy all the time.
    If only my followers had an X Box, they'd be able to blow off a lot
    more steam. but what can you do? you gotta go with the followers
    that brought you there. they may not be perfect, but they blindly do
    what i say, so that's pretty good. I gotta be honest. I fantasize
    sometimes about, at the end of one of my ridiculous, predictable
    videos where i tell people to renew their vigilance against the west,
    i fantasize about, at the end, putting on a mesh hat, ashton kutcher
    style, and telling all my al queada members that they've been
    punked. man, i mean i've been getting them good. ...but alas, i
    dont have have the gumption to do it. i'm a lot of things. but i've
    never been a great practical joker. i just chicken out last minute
    and never reveal it. anyway, we all have our limitations. speaking
    of ashton kutcher, here's an idea i've had for a few weeks now. why
    doesnt he replace charlie sheen on 2 and a half men. i think he'd be
    very charming, and bring a certain Je Ne Sais Quoi to the role.
    yeah. i have been in this compound way too long, so long, i'm pretty
    sure the americans will never find me. nighty night. sweet dreams.
    xoxo. Osama.

    Dear diary,

    May 1, 2011
    I'm having that dream again. it's late. it's dark. and the navy
    seals descend on my compound. two of them burst into my room. i
    push one of my wives at them. they shove her aside and shoot me in
    the eye. i've had this dream a million times, but somehow this time
    it feels more real. wait! WHAT IS THAT NOISE!? no. i must be
    hearing things. relax osama, relax. its just your imagination
    playing tricks on you. breathe in, breathe out. wax on, wax off.
    wait, no, what was that? Oh no, my door has been smashed in. quick,
    let me push one of my wives at them. oh damn, that didnt work! Ow!
    I've just been shot in the chest! It hurts, alot, but this is not
    like my dream at all. in my dream i get shot in the... wait, where
    is he aiming now? ...uh oh.
    Osama. Out.