(((Rotting Corpse Mistaken For Al Goldstein)))

Thursday, April 16th, 2009

 

You lowlife scumbag pricks - I am fucking a viable, living human (albeit demonstrably worn out).  There is no way I can write this fucking blog in this gulag.  My lawyer, Charles,  visits me with pastrami and the New York Times, but for him to transcribe my notes to this fucking blog would require him to walk and chew gum at the same time  (and he is Italian, a dego guinea wop street lawyer who has the gift of talk, but not the gift of walking and talking at the same time).

I live on the 13th Floor of the VA Hospital in Brooklyn.  If you want proof that I still exist, come up here and visit me you fucking cum-filled anal fistula! Bring Katz’ patrami ONLY…unless you want to open up your checkbook and show your genorosity.

I fuck all of you in the ass, hold the vaseline.  You losers! What the fuck did you think? That I just sat here on the ward all day and ponder you assholes who actually READ my fucking blog!?? FUCCCCCK YOU!

Let’s get back to reality.  I want to get the fuck out of this shithole immediately.  My life is not over yet.  I am planning to make it to Florida (like Ratso Rizzo in Midnight Cowboy!).  I can live off Social Security and bang some old Jewish cunt whose husband left her a forutne. 

Does anyone have a spare condo that they would let me stay in until the Fall? I am serious.

Fuck you and I will be back. 

FUUUUUUUUUCKKKKKK YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOU!

 

Al