Benedetto sia'l giorno e'l mese e l'anno
e la stagione e'l tempo e l'ora e'l punto
e'l bel paese e'l loco ov'io fui giunto
da'duo begli occhi che legato m'ànno;

E benedetto il primo dolce affanno
ch'ì ebbi ad esser con Amor congiunto,
e l'arco e le saette ond'ì fui punto,
e le piaghe che'nfin al cor mi vanno.

Benedette le voci tante ch'io
chiamando il nome de mia donna ò sparte,
e i sospiri e le lagrime e'l desio;

e benedette sian tutte le carte
ov'io fama l'acquisto, e'l pensier mio,
ch'è sol di lei; si ch'altra non v'à parte.

i have spent all this weekend
building voodoo dolls
out of belly-button lint,
newspaper clippings, pipe cleaners,
and tufts of my own hair.

They all have names.
The Fearless Lemming.
Odenkirk.
Mr. Tweezles.
Vexorg, the Merciless.
Bob.

Forgive me father, for i have sinned
and i liked it...

Vexorg, true to his name,
slew the Lemming in single combat.
It was...disturbing, at best,
and quite messy.
Mr. Tweezles betrayed his sacred
post as medicine man,
poisoning Vexorg with krokodil.
I thought Odenkirk would
exhibit strength of character,
but he fled in the night
like a *****, most likely
in fear of Bob.
Mr. Tweezles should have paid attention
to that turn of events.
Bob fancied himself an attorney,
and Mr. Tweezles thought
himself clever and indestructible.

i am Dark Helmet,
playing puppet-master
with my dolls,
red-handed
intercepted.

Today's horoscope:
*Fear death by stupidity.