Dear Jebbo,
This morning, I am told that Aileen Carol Wuornos, the insane lesbian ex-prostitute serial killer
who has been taking up valuable space in Florida State Prison for over a decade, is scheduled to die by lethal injection. In fact,
at this very moment, she has no doubt already scarfed down her last plate of vermin-infested prison chow, been shackled,
and is being led down a long, fluorescent-lit corridor to the chamber where you, my baby brother, will have the
near-orgasmic pleasure of snuffing out her life like you're a living God! Why, just thinking about it, I am so excited right
now, it's all I can do to keep from taking a letter opener to the soft underbelly of my dog Barney and turning that
worthless, yappy shit factory inside-out once and for all!
Christ, I miss the executions, Jeb! I miss the panicked last minute phone calls from their incompetent, under-educated
bleeding heart public defenders, just begging for the mercy I would sometimes pretend I was capable of
mustering. I miss the crowds of bloodthirsty pro-execution protesters and their violent, rhythmic chants for state-sponsored
murder - regardless of what any nonsense "DNA evidence" says. But more than anything, I miss the closed-circuit audio broadcasts
of the actual executions that the warden set up for me.
It's like a gorgeous symphony of death: the soft swooshing of the doomed prisoner's canvas jumpsuit, the whizzing and delicate
jingling of leather straps
and buckles as they're fastened to the slab, and the soft squeaks of an executioner's rubber souls on prison linoleum. And
then a hiss - long and melancholy - as the plungers deliver their toxic cocktail into the soon-to-be corpse of that probably born-again
scumbag over whom you now hold complete remote control. And then - if you're lucky - a climactic and extended groan of indescribable
agony, followed by blessed silence.
I recorded every last one of those lethal injections on high-bias Maxell XLII-S tapes, too. Still listen to them all the time.
Just let me know if you want to borrow any. You are having tapes made of Aileen Carol Wuornos, right Jeb? Please tell me you're having tapes made. I only have 152 in my library,
and I know every last one forwards and backwards. It's liking watching porno - you can't worked up over the same damned money shot again
and again. I need new material up here, Jeb!
Anyway, I have to go, but I just wanted to say good luck, and have fun wasting that psychotic white trash lezbo whore.
Because remember, it's like daddy said: nothing makes you look like more of a man to the voters than when you have the courage to tell someone
else to go kill some skinny white bitch who's locked up in a cage. Unless of course it's a negra, or a retard, or a 14 year-old negra
retard - then you look like even more of a man.
See you at Thanksgiving.
Your Brother,
- G
P.S. - Let me know about the tapes!
###
White House Information:
THE PRESIDENT: Good morning. Please be seated. Today, before leaving the White House for a long day of talking
about terrorism at the many $2000/plate Republican party fundraisers that are essential to protecting America
from the marauding Muslamoid hordes, I wanted to take a minute to share with you an e-mail message I have just
written to Florida Governor Jeb Bush on this, a day of some importance for his re-election campaign.
