boneless ones, eh. I guess that amounts to dinner and a date. In reverse.
They are inverted...
Two Arabs are sitting in a Gaza Strip bar chatting over a pint of fermented goats milk.
One pulls his wallet out and starts flipping through pictures and they start reminiscing.
“This is my oldest son, hes 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, dont they?”