Osama bin Laden - My Fake Diary
Sunday, 19 October 2008
11:50 PM It is now late at night and I have had to come outside the cave to sleep because of Omed's smelling the cave up. We tried fanning out the cave with sheets and blankets but all we accomplished was that my sheets and blankets now smell like cooked Omed. I am writing this from beside a well-concealed fire as the men fetch me more sheets and blankets.
12:30 AM They bring me the late OMED'S sheets and blankets, the idiots. I'm putting some of the dead camel parts (How I shall miss Clyde) in the cave to rot. Anything is better than the Omed smell. Meanwhile, I shiver in the cold, wrapped only in my spare turbans. Should I freeze to death during the night, I hope one of my virgins is a big fat cozy one.
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