Osama bin Laden - My Fake Diary
Tuesday, 18 November 2008
November 18th, I think. Like it makes a difference.
The men have been going in the wrong cave again. How many times do I have to tell them, "You crap in #2 cave! Why do you think we called it #2, because it was our second favorite? #2 is our shit cave and you start all the way in the back and work your way towards the front or you never take a step again in my cave!"
Maybe it is already full. I'll have to check.
It was not full and now I cannot come into my own cave until I get new shoes. A rule is a rule.
We had a gathering. I tell them #2 again and take a light because someone never made it to the back. Lizard-shits are an awful thing.
I saw Mullamar hunkered down in #3 and I rubbed his face in it to teach him a lesson and had him low-crawl over to #2.
I say "Men, if we do this right and get our shit together, the desert tumblebugs will do the rest. You know you should take a light or a torch. Remember poor Emir geeting stung on the balls by the scorpion?
That's a horrible way to go.
Some of you take Mullamar to Baghdad. He's on my shit list. Also, see if poor Emir is still alive but don't give him anything that he can use to kill himself. Slip him to the Americans. Who knows, maybe the other part will swell up and he will be popular.
No. No. Mullamar, go with the men to Baghdad. You are on my shit list."
This is what was said and done. Tomorrow, probably a repeat. So the date does not matter.
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