I have drunk deeply of the hateraid and now nothing touches my hard, calloused soul. There are those who maintain I never had one to start with.
Monday, January 06, 2003
F*cking suicide bombers. I've long since passed the point where I think anything other than "kill 'em all and bury 'em in pig fat", but James Lileks sums up his feelings with rather more elegance than I've managed.
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