Buh-Bye!

I wonder if Ken Lay will have fun dying his underwear pink? I wonder if he knows what anal rape feels like, and how it is to have one's front teeth bashed out for easy oral sodomy? I doubt he knows how to make prison wine in a toilet bowl or how to fashion a shiv from a toothbrush. How about getting stomped and kicked? Or waiting in a cold, dark prison cell for the onset of unimagined terror from those he spat on his whole miserable life? Because when I look in his face lately I see hubris, defiance and fear. Not a good mix in prison.

Make some room in there for King George, Kenny Boy.