Friday, December 23, 2005

Babe Laden! 

Men of Zembla: what wouldn't you do for seventy-two of these? From GQ, courtesy of Tim Grieve at the War Room:
“You know Wafah bin Ladin?” Valvo asks the men loudly.

“Wafah Dufour,” she snaps, shooting him a look that’s more pleading than hostile.

The niece of the man who orchestrated the destruction of the World Trade Center seventy-eight blocks to the south has a point. After September 11, the name bin Laden (which is how it’s spelled when referring to Osama) turned radioactive, borderline satanic-by-association. It made her feel cursed, presumed guilty—made her wonder if it might keep her from ever getting a record deal. So she took her mother’s maiden name, Dufour, which makes for a better first impression, even though the bin Laden taint is always there . . . .

The face is alluring (big dark eyes, long lashes, plump lips, caramel skin), but she looks wounded. And there’s something else. At first I can’t quite figure it out, but then it hits me: She looks a little like her uncle, albeit a waify ninety-eight-pound tiny-footed version. Sexy Osama! I hold that thought while I listen to her explain that she’s his half niece and [any more like you at home? -- S.] one of hundreds of bin Ladens, most of whom are in Saudi Arabia, where she hasn’t been since she was 10. She has no contact with most of her relatives, including her father, doesn’t speak Arabic, has an American passport… The list goes on. “At the end of the day, I believe that the American people understand things and they have compassion and they see what’s fair,” she says. “They’re very fair, and that’s why I love America, and that’s why my mom loves America.”
According to word on the street, the charismatic Ms. bi-- pardon us; Ms. Dufour -- inked a multi-disc pact with the Carlyle Recording Group before they even heard her demo. To which we can only say Allahu Akbar! -- or, for our readers who are not fluent in Arabic, Hubba Hubba!

Categories: ,

| | Technorati Links | to Del.icio.us