A BUTCHER WRAPPED IN A MYSTERY INSIDE A STEAMING PILE OF SHIT

Fucking Narzees. They only pretend to be dead. (Can't croak while there's still work to do.) I'll bet this scumbag is still practicing what he calls 'gynecology' on someone, somewhere.

Two bits there's a trail of organs leading from his cottage to the beach. You know: lungs, livers, vaginae.

The 'conversion' to Islam is a nice touch, though. Wouldn't doubt that for a second.

A man is what he is not and is not what he is. Don't quote me on that. (That's because I didn't say it first. ) Look it up; you got the Google, no?

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Hey: on a lighter note, it's gonna rain here on Saturday. That will be the urine -- er, icing on the cake. Cause then it's s'posed to freeze up again in a matter of hours. Yippee... if I get a decent push off the twenty feet of fucking snow in my backyard -- and with a half-assed tailwind -- I'll be in Stockholm by breakfast. Just in time for one of their planet-saving conferences. Win/win.

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I like pie.

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This space for lease.

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