I feel kind of ashamed of myself now. Here I thought you were this bad-ass terrorist like Wulfgar in the Stallone vehicle Nighthawks. You know, the leather jackets and steely gaze. Hah! You're fuckin' kidding me, right? You weren't like that at all were you? You were more like Grady from Sanford and Son.
I thought you were this rich billionaire. Your family has made a whole shit-pot full of cash in oil and construction. And look at the place you wound up in. Man, I can buy a place in Detroit for a hundred bucks that's nicer than that. Are those walls made of Quikrete? I know that the climate there in Pakistan can be rather harsh but couldn't you spring for some mildew wash and a few gallons of Glidden? And it might not have been a bad idea to have a crew from Janisource in a couple times a month to tidy up. Come on, where's your self respect?
And for fucks sake, Pakistan? Not exactly the place that comes to mind when I think of world-class resorts. You could have lived anywhere. Trim that beard up and people in Belize would have thought you were Kenny Loggins. I know...too late now, right?
Apparently it wasn't really necessary to bother the Navy Seals to go get your raggedy ass. I think a van load of ROTC candidates could have done the job.
Whatever. I'm glad you're gone. And it does my heart good to know the last thing you saw was an Americans eyes looking at you over his sights.
So long, Asshole.
