...or is it just us?
the bastard woke up this morning after what i can only describe as the most bomb proof drinking experience i've had in a great while. better thatn that. i have a cold and it feels better even though in didn't call it a night until 1 am. i think it had something to do with the fact that left hand rob and i thought that we saw grant morrison at the old town bar last night. probably wasn't him but then again damn if it didn't look like him (then again i did feel the urge to become invisible at some point).
anyway to my point. i woke up this morning (duh duh, duh nuh). and what did i see (duh duh, duh nuh). i saw a newspaper (duh duh, duh nuh), with guiliani's face looking at me (duh duh, duh nuh). okay if the bastard ever tries to do a blues song in blog form, please kill me. the front page from yesterday's daily news was on the kitchen table and it mentioned that rudy would be testifying in the sentencing peortion of the zacarias moussaoui trial yesterday. i came in and there was an article on it on the wire and this mother from california whose son was killed on flight 93 hopes that he doesn't get the death penalty because it will show muslims that we are a merciful nation and that if we killed him, the islamic community would label him a martyr anyway. quite frankly i don't want him put to death either. i want this man to spend the rest of his life in jail. i want him to know that rather than getting what would be a less painful death than he conspired to commit on others, i want him to know that we have his ass and he won't get the quick trip to his 734 virgins and free ice cream cake (sorry rob, it was too good not to use immediately) or whatever it is mass murderers get from their beliefs. this guy is no martyr. moussaoui was a leech on british society who collected unemployment benefits from the government while fomenting his hatred for the system that created the social program that put food on his table. i hope he not only rots in jail, i hope the stick him in solitary for the rest of his life so he has nothing for himself but 3 squares and conversations with the rats in the walls.