This book might never have been written had I not spent a night eating goat testicle soup with tribesman next door to the snow-covered mountains of Mongolia. Let me introduce myself. My name is Maxim Efimov, Russian émigré and adventurer in the tradition of the Austrian Baron von Munchausen. Dearest readers, you might say that Munchausen greatly exaggerated his travels – that he was even a liar. But let me assure you that when you travel around the breadth of this extraordinary world and live to tell the tale, that you have the most extraordinary adventures which go beyond the imaginings of most human beings.
I was only half way into my goat testicle soup, when I came across a dark haired, ravishing beauty with very large breasts. She had sparking dark eyes that enchanted and amazed. I felt as light headed as a young school boy experiencing love for the first time. She reminded me so much of that gypsy song, “Ochi Chernye” – “Dark eyes” for my English speaking friends – about a man who has seen such a great beauty, only to be denied her affections. That was a depressing thought and one I decided to get used to, because surely this impressionable girl would not set her sights on me. But as Fortuna would have it, she chose me as her companion and lover for an exquisite night of the pleasures of the flesh.
Yet it was also on this night that I had the great misfortune of contracting Islamophobia, a terrible disease that ravaged my soul and played malicious games with my neurons. How do I know that it’s terrible? Well just watch the television and you will see Imams, religious scholars, believers, social justice warriors, and Russell Brand tell you how terrible this Islamophobia is. I also experienced the terrible symptoms first hand. I began to question whether Islam was perhaps flawed in some way and may have inspired terrible things, like the apostasy law, the blasphemy law, female genital mutilation, oppression of women, and the persecution of religious minorities. These were terrible thoughts to have – and the sad reality is that many of the people with Islamophobia suffer in silence.
So to prevent such a fate from befalling me, I searched for a cure… on the internet. Lo and behold, I came across the Saudi Foundation for the Eradication of Islamophobia. This Saudi Foundation was determined to cure all of humanity of the Islamophobia STD. It provided each patient with a multi-room apartment in a palace overlooking the Persian Gulf. I was fed grapes, dates, Persian caviar (which had to be smuggled in through the port of Dubai, because Saudi Arabia’s foreign relations with Iran are terrible on a good day), falafel, beef with that lovely sesame sauce, chicken, and many other things by a cabal of the most beautiful concubines. I did not need to use any forks, spoons, or knives or get my hands dirty, because the hands of these gracious creatures were my utensils. Sometimes I got brief indigestion, because I got into the habit of lying back on pillows of red silk while feeling the cool sea breezes from the Persian Gulf. I am sure you can understand my predicament.
...
I was only half way into my goat testicle soup, when I came across a dark haired, ravishing beauty with very large breasts. She had sparking dark eyes that enchanted and amazed. I felt as light headed as a young school boy experiencing love for the first time. She reminded me so much of that gypsy song, “Ochi Chernye” – “Dark eyes” for my English speaking friends – about a man who has seen such a great beauty, only to be denied her affections. That was a depressing thought and one I decided to get used to, because surely this impressionable girl would not set her sights on me. But as Fortuna would have it, she chose me as her companion and lover for an exquisite night of the pleasures of the flesh.
Yet it was also on this night that I had the great misfortune of contracting Islamophobia, a terrible disease that ravaged my soul and played malicious games with my neurons. How do I know that it’s terrible? Well just watch the television and you will see Imams, religious scholars, believers, social justice warriors, and Russell Brand tell you how terrible this Islamophobia is. I also experienced the terrible symptoms first hand. I began to question whether Islam was perhaps flawed in some way and may have inspired terrible things, like the apostasy law, the blasphemy law, female genital mutilation, oppression of women, and the persecution of religious minorities. These were terrible thoughts to have – and the sad reality is that many of the people with Islamophobia suffer in silence.
So to prevent such a fate from befalling me, I searched for a cure… on the internet. Lo and behold, I came across the Saudi Foundation for the Eradication of Islamophobia. This Saudi Foundation was determined to cure all of humanity of the Islamophobia STD. It provided each patient with a multi-room apartment in a palace overlooking the Persian Gulf. I was fed grapes, dates, Persian caviar (which had to be smuggled in through the port of Dubai, because Saudi Arabia’s foreign relations with Iran are terrible on a good day), falafel, beef with that lovely sesame sauce, chicken, and many other things by a cabal of the most beautiful concubines. I did not need to use any forks, spoons, or knives or get my hands dirty, because the hands of these gracious creatures were my utensils. Sometimes I got brief indigestion, because I got into the habit of lying back on pillows of red silk while feeling the cool sea breezes from the Persian Gulf. I am sure you can understand my predicament.
...
