Dear Diary,
I am sitting here in my hole in the ground, twiddling my thumbs. That is, the thumbs I cut off of a dozen or so infidels. I'm bored and wish I had a Chutes and Ladders game, or a Word Search book.
I would search for words like "killalltheinfidels," and "iamthekingoftheworld," and "getmeoutofthisstinkingholeintheground," and "ilikepeanutbutterandjellysandwicheswithpotatochipsinsidebecausetheycrunchlikethebonesofaninfidel."
Yeah, I'll ask Santa will bring me one of those. Or the Great Pumpkin.
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