Sunday, August 17, 2003

Alas, it is with a heavy heart that I greet you this morning. Sadness weighs heavy upon my soul, for I have just learned that my good friend and lifelong source of inspiration, the Great and Glorious Field Marshall Idi Amin Dada, has died. Indeed, Idi set the standard by which all other unmercifully murderous bloodthirsty despotic tyrants are measured. And I am not ashamed to admit that there where some areas where I just couldn't quite equal his many accomplishments. For example, eating the flesh of my victims and keeping their heads in the fridge always seemed a just a tad eccentric to me. I don't care if it does taste like chicken--human flesh just isn't my cup of tea.

I last saw Idi at TerrorCon '97 at the Beirut Hilton. That was a blast (literally)!!! I remember that after a while, the valets got really nervous because so many of the cars they were parking were blowing up!!! HAHAHAHA!!!!

In fact, if you ever want to see a valet piss his pants, here's what you do: When you hand him the carkeys, start running like bloddy hell and jam your fingers in your ears! With a little luck, they'll even drop a load in their shorts! Ah, to be young and foolish again....

Where was I? Oh, right. TerrorCon '97.... Anyway, during Osama's PowerPoint presentation on flight schools, Idi, Yasser Arafat, Charles Taylor, and I went out barhopping. Eventually we picked up some hot chicks and headed back to the hotel for an orgy. And you know what they always say about brothers being popular among women? Well, I found out it was true. Yasser and I just stood there dumbfounded when Taylor and Amin dropped trou and unfurled their, well, what can only be described as "pythons." I mean, don't get me wrong: I'm no little earthworm myself, and I've never had any complaints from the ladies, but those two.... Well, those things just weren't human.

Anyway, you may recall that earlier this year I had a chance to rent a room in Idi's villa. This was back in early March when the Saudis offered me exile. But I decided to pass on it. But don't get me wrong: Amin was a cool guy to hang with for a while, maybe go out on the town with. That sort of thing.

But overall, that lifestyle just wasn't for me. I mean, the occasional loud party punctuated by screaming human sacrifices followed by extravagant cannibalistic feasts was okay now and then. But EVERY frikkin' night?!?! I mean, who did he think he was? Ben Affleck?