Reminds me of cook I was stranded with in the Bronx back in 95. Took a side tunnel on the Dyre Ave subway line. We were lost for days, cooked part of my leg to survive. He loved the taste of my leg, and then decided to have the rest of me for some doggie bags; so I broke his neck.
Man do I hate the Bronx. Cheers Druid!
" War and embargo are public sadness. But every death is a private sadness."
- A woman in Iraq.
This message last edited by Eldered on 4/27/2004 at 9:52:34 PM.