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Take all American women
who are within five years of menopause -
train us for a few weeks,
 outfit
us with automatic weapons,
grenades, gas masks, moisturizer with SPF15,
Prozac, hormones, chocolate, and canned tuna -
drop us (parachuted, preferably) across the landscape of
Afghanistan, and let us do what comes naturally.
Think about it.
Our anger quotient alone, even when doing standard stuff
like grocery shopping and paying bills,
is formidable enough to make even
armed men in turbans tremble.
We've had our children,
we would gladly suffer or die to protect them
and their future. We'd like to get away from our husbands,
if they haven't left already.
And for those of us who are single,
the prospect of finding a good man with whom to share life is about as likely as being struck by
lightning. We have nothing to lose.
We've survived the water diet, the protein diet,
the carbohydrate diet, and the grapefruit diet in
gyms and saunas across America and never lost
a pound. We can easily survive months
in the hostile terrain of Afghanistan
with no food at all!
We've spent years tracking down our husbands
or lovers in bars, hardware stores, or sporting events...
finding bin Laden in some cave will be no problem.
Uniting all the warring tribes of Afghanistan
in a new government? Oh, please...
we've planned the seating arrangements for
in-laws and extended families at Thanksgiving dinners
for years...
we understand tribal warfare.
Between us, we've divorced enough husbands
to know every trick there is or how they hide,
launder, or cover-up bank accounts and money sources.
We know how to find that money
and we know how to seize it ... with or without
the government's help!
Let us go and fight. The Taliban hates women.
Imagine their terror as we crawl like ants
with hot-flashes over their godforsaken terrain.
I'm going to write my Congresswoman.
You should, too!
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