Unabomber Diaries, Day V: THE END

It's April Fool's Day. Were Unabomber not a very serious, non fooling around sort of guy, he might have put a whoopie cushion on all of your seats just now. Sound implausible? Don't think I couldn't have done it. If I wanted to, I totally could have. But as I say, I don't fool around. Have you ever seen an anorak-wearer fool around? Of course not. Well, this will be Unabombers' last day here. He has memoirs to write, secluded shacks in the bush to build. That other clown will be back next week, paragraph breaks or not. Forget everything I've said this week if you like, but remember this one thing. Commit it to memory. Stick it on your fridge. Shave it in to your cat-- It's not the size of the man in the fight, it's the size of said man's anorak, and the length of his beard that counts. For real. Un-peace out. U.