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Dear Diary,

I'm a patient man. Lord knows, I stayed holed up in that hell hole they called a "compound" watching grainy rerurns of "The Late Show" starring Joan RIvers, a Jewess, I believe, but this is intolerable.

Here I am, its now been a year, and not a single virgin has shown her face or any other parts.

Could it all be a lie, Dear Diary? Is it possible that the promise of 72 virgins was just a way to communicate with the rocks between my legs at the expense of the rocks between my ears?

And Dear Diary, thank you so much for letting me use some of your pages to wipe up while I wait for my reward.

Is it just me, Dear Diary, or is it like the heat of a thousand Saudi days here?

I just pray that the virgins are not hirsuite and do not sweat like all of the others.

You always understand me, Dear Diary

Osammie.

Dear Diary,

Today Ismail and I peeked through Fadheela's bedroom window & jacked it, then her father, Sheik Abdullah heard our nosies and set the camels on us.

Well it's really amazing just how attractive a camel can be. And when God willing the horse of the desert and I share the same heat cycle magic can happen.

I had thought about saving myself for the 72 virgins that await me, but I thought that I should just spend a little more time on this earth, rotting my brain and teeth, as I spend these days sipping Pepsi.

As supple as Fadheela appeared to be as she was putting on a second burqa, I wondered why we didn't use the letter "U" after "Q". After that, I wondered if there was something else waiting for me.

Just then came that beautiful beast charging at me.

I'm so embarrassed Diary, I don't think I can write anymore.

What if someone finds you?

At least my videos will be safe.

Oh Blessed be the annointed one, but that John Holmes was hung.

Until tomorrow, Dear Diary.

Dear Diary,

I just love Fatima, but it's as if I don't even exist. I just want us to be friends. Should I blow myself up, Dear Diary?