Pete is dead. I killed him, I ate his corpse. I am Pete now.

(Or I'm back from Philadelphia and if I don't get a fuckin' burrito in the next ten minutes I will be on the fucking news, live coverage, helicopters documenting the horrors silently while the news dicks find themselves speechless for the first time in their careers. Tanks will roll in and then roll back out as the driver, acting automatically from sheer terror, ignores the tank commander's orders to proceed. Drones will be sent in to no avail. The president is on the phone. Wikipedia says "This article documents a current event" at the top of a page entitled "Expulsion of Los Angeles from the State of California". People keep refreshing Twitter but no one can find words. The president is on the phone, pick up. The air raid sirens are deafening. Mexico is reinforcing its border defenses for the first time since 1848. I really need a fucking burrito.)