Two Arabs are sitting in a Gaza Strip bar chatting over a pint of fermented goat’s milk.
One pulls his wallet out and starts flipping through pictures and they start reminiscing.
"This is my oldest son, he’s a martyr."
"This is my second son. He is a martyr also."
After a pause and a deep sigh, the second Arab says wistfully,
"They blow up so fast, don’t they?"
Pull up your pants, turn off that damn rap and speak clear English, if you want to talk to me.
Thanks! You got em Romaniac! LOL