Eleven years all told. Five for the trial

Eleven years all told. Five for the trial and appeals. Four in maximum security. And two along Death Row. Every day all I thought about was my last meal. I'd have

the Limburger and onion sandwich with chives, a potent-enough blend to linger on through the afterlife. There's nothing like an eternal flavor blast to mask the guilt of patricide.

Thought one of the Menedez brothers. He was the sensitive one. The one who didn't "really" want to do it. But his big brother pressured him, now he's doing life without parole.

He read his mail. "Dear Erik Menendez, I know you are sensitive & misunderstood, but I understand. You didn't want to do it. Perhaps you will marry me, even if you don't want to?

Love, Hilda xxoo." He pondered a bit before writing back: "Dearest Hilda, You are amazing. U never met me, yet u know me. I will marry u. Luv, Erik Menedez. (Pleeze send picture.)

Hilda was proud of her voluptuousness & sent her best sofa lounging shot. She was pouting & grasping a carton of Ben & Gerry's Cookie Dough Icecream. When Erik Menedez got the pic

of Hilda and he ex boyfriend, he Erik tried to maintain is temperance by breathing slowly, but he couldn't hold for long and bursted out in anger. Hilda argued but couldn't

Resist becoming a fly just to annoy Erik The Red. Erik The Blue was already declared legally dangerous by the thought police, having hung out with Erik The Green. The three Eriks,

of course, were not bloodkin but siblings of the same anarchistic unthought disorganization. But if you do become a fly to agitate, you should fly without buzzing too loud around

the head of Brahma, lest you wake him and end this universe forever. But flies do not heed any warnings, and so the end came about with a soft buzz instead of a bang.