Dear Diary,
I wish the idiot/savant Sabeeh would quit that "Is that a B-52 I hear? Hey guys, is that a B-52 I hear?" every few minutes. These people are only here because I have plans for them to deliver a few sticks of dynamite for them to personally deliver to some towns near here.
Then he won't hear the B-52's anymore, but the lovely voices of 72 pristine virgins.
Someone made it through with a Dominoes pizza and it turns out to he Faatih, and it turns out to be covered with pork sausage and Faatih turns out to be headless.
There is a funny-looking but probably tasty little dog wandering around the caves with a WWI flying ace headgear on. We have tried many times to capture him but he always gets away. Then he grabs one's headgear turban with his teeth and sends him spinning into the sand like a top.
Uhoh, no...
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