Everybody needs a hobby, but people find release in many surprising ways. A mechanic might unwind by knitting, a ballet dancer might take up boxing. But what do you do to unwind after, say, a long day at the genocide factory? Just ask these guys:
#6. Hitler Loved Disney and Sketched Characters
Everybody knows Hitler was an artist, and while paintings of his have supposedly popped up before, recent sketches discovered in 2008 shed a little more light on the twisted mind behind the madman: He was a Mouseketeer. Well, in spirit anyway. The sketches were of two of the seven dwarfs, Bashful and Doc, along with an unsigned sketch of Pinocchio.
Everyone needs a hobby.
Hitler wasn't just a casual fan either. He not only owned a copy of Snow White, he thought it was one of the greatest movies ever created. His love for all things Disney was so well known that Joseph Goebbels, history's second greatest monster, gave Hitler Mickey Mouse paraphernalia. Goebbels later wrote in his diary that Hitler was "very pleased." This was presumably followed by "he clapped his hands in glee, and immediately ran to his room to change into the mouse ears and Donald Duck footy pajamas."
#5. Osama Bin Laden Ruled the Volleyball Court
Osama Bin Laden hates America. He hates everything about it: The sacrilegious freedoms we enjoy, our arrogant politics, the way America snorts when it laughs. You know this already; you've probably seen his Vlogs. He just hates America so fucking much, he loathes every fiber of its black, accursed soul... well, except for volleyball. That shit's awesome.
We're not making this up; stories of Bin Laden's volleyball prowess come from insiders like his former bodyguard, Nasser al-Bahri.
So why is America's number one enemy also the number one fan of the homoerotic near-orgy from Top Gun? Maybe his love for volleyball is the one exception that proves the rule, or maybe it's actually the cause for his hatred; a bitter jealousy at all of our immaculate beaches and regulation nets coming from a dude stuck in a low-ceilinged cave using old clotheslines. Or perhaps, just perhaps, the 6'4 Arab guy in a country where rural villagers think fun is forbidden by God is predisposed to dominate the crap out of that sport.
You might say he's "built for the game."
Oh, and throw in the fact that Mohammed Atef, the former chief of Al-Qaeda, also used to be a star volleyball player, but wasn't allowed to play on the same team as Osama because they were just that good, and we think the United States' next move is clear: Stage a fake volleyball competition, and arrest the unnaturally skilled giant with the fake beard (over his regular beard).
Hey, it worked for Robin Hood.
#4. Saddam Hussein Wrote Sappy Romance Novels.
In late 2001, CIA officials found a novel at an Arabic book store in London titled Zabibah and the King. Penned under the clever pseudonym "S. Hussein," (seriously, how did we ever catch that guy?!)
Ladies, are your loins quivering yet? If not, you are in direct violation of Iraqi law.
Zabibah and the King is an allegorical novel based on the history of Iraq... in the same way that Transformers is an allegorical TV show about the industrial revolution. Liberties are taken, is what we're saying here. The book is set in ancient Iraq, where the fair and just King (Saddam) falls in love with the beautiful and innocent Zabibah (Iraq). After several long, thinly veiled discussions on God, love, poetry, matted back hair and dank spider-holes, the King and Zabibah eventually fall deep in love.
Ladies love a man with his own gilded throne.
But on a walk from the King's Palace to her home, Zabibah is attacked and raped by her cruel husband. Here's a line from the actual passage:
Yes, the girl is Iraq, the fair-haired (?) King is Saddam himself, and the cruel husband is the United States of America. And if you actually needed that explanation to get the subtext, you owe your elementary school English teacher a sternly worded note, though you'll probably need some help writing it. Then again, perhaps we're being unfair here: We shouldn't exactly be expecting subtlety from the guy commissioning 30-foot gold statues of himself for every town square in the country.
...Is that a disco ball on his head?