Hi there. Remember me? So maybe my veins decided to be a little less pesky for you. But guess what you skinny fucks. I'm sitting on a cloud right now, sippin' on an apple-tini and eating some cereal. Whats up? Want to know how it all went down? Let's take a peek.
Ohio executed a 5-foot-7, 267-pound double murderer who argued his obesity made death by lethal injection inhumane.
Yea well guess what assholes, it hurt like fuck. Don't let anyone tell you that's humane. Once the poison hits your bloodstream and gets to your brain it makes you think some fucked up thoughts! All of a sudden my life flashed before my eyes like a roadslut's titties on whip 'em out Wednesday! Shit had a real weird bitter taste too. Whatever... Just know that I'm watching you shower.
Richard Cooey, 41, died at 10:28 a.m. Tuesday at the Southern Ohio Correctional Facility in Lucasville, said Jim Gravelle, a spokesman with state attorney general's office.
The moment my soul shook loose its mortal coil, I was shot like out of a cannon up to heaven where I came face to face with my maker. His name is Herman, in case you were curious. He's funny, likes action movies, and can't drive a stick shift. Also seems to buy any horse-pucky you want to sling at him: "Yes Herman, I'm soooo sorry for the rape and murders. Now let me into your beach party." Hook. Line. Sinker.
Cooey's attorneys had argued that his weight problem would make it difficult for prison staff to access a vein. A prisons spokeswoman said Cooey received a pre-execution exam early Tuesday and was cleared.
The only time you're ever bummed to pass a physical when you find out you're healthy enough to be stuck.
Cooey, who killed two University of Akron students in 1986, walked into the death chamber at 10:15 a.m. wearing gray pants and was strapped onto the gurney.
What they wont tell you: When I walking in to the death chamber there was a massive boner beneath my gray pants. Wonder why they didn't mention the fucking awesome Hawaiian shirt I was wearing.
"You (expletive) haven't paid any attention to anything I've said in the last 22 1/2 years, why would anyone pay any attention to anything I've had to say now," Cooey said looking at the ceiling. He made no other comment.
Yes, I said it looking at the ceiling because I was fucking strapped to a gurney you shitstain. Besides, what words could I have left them with? Why would I give a flaming fuck what those people thought of me?
Cooey tapped the fingers of his left hand several times before he died and his face took on a purple shade.
I was mid-wicked drum solo to Baba O'Reilly in my head when it hit. Rocking out with my Cockring out till the very end motherfuckers. And I'm still doing it up here too. Me and Moonie even hang out sometimes, though I have to drive.
Six family members of one of his victims watched the execution. Summit County Prosecutor Sherri Bevan Walsh said the family was disappointed that Cooey was vulgar and hateful at the end.
What did they want? A hug? The fact that their relatives were so fuckable/killable was what got me in that mess in the first place! I'll tell you what's vulgar. Stabbing a defenseless fat man in the arm with poison needles. That's what.
Anyway, I guess you're all probably wondering what it's like to be dead. It's not that different from being alive really. Sure the beer's always cold and the fish is always fresh, but it's not all different. Sometimes you don't wipe so good and wind up with skid marks. Sometimes the car craps out and you have to take it to the shop. And gas is expensive as hell up here too folks. But don't bother whining to Herman about it, like he gives a shit. He's right now sitting in an inflated kid's pool in his underpants drinking a brewdog, waggling his dong at some high school girls that died in a cheerleader bus accident a few years back. No age of consent up here either, which is mainly because you don't really need to pursue relations, you're just kind of constantly in this state of awesome warm tingliness. So the dong waggling doesn't really bother anyone because it's like why bother. Herm's just a sick silly fuck that way. My parents are here, but there usually off playing bridge or making pies for me to have really gotten the chance to kind of interface with them about how them molesting me and keeping me in a cage for the better part of my youth may have wound up screwing me up a little bit. But I will, and I am going to eat the shit out of those pies. Also there's always music playing, if you're into that sort of thing. You just sort of think of what song you'd like to hear then BAM! there it is. No one else can hear it, which is nice because you can crank that shit and rock out and still be respectful to your neighbors. The biggest difference might be that you appear to everyone as you see yourself, in an ideal sort of state. Which is awesome, because if you'll recall, when I bought the farm I was a fat sack of shit. Look, I gotta jet, I'm going to go school some folks at Rock Band - the entertainment center in this place is fucking dope! Anyway, see you soon. You, specifically. I'll see you in like 8 days and... 6 hours and 14 minutes.
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