so i had it all mapped out, a nice little tribute to darko milosevic, son of serbian murderer-despot and war criminal slobodan milosevic. i mean i really had a full work-up on this cat planned, but i hop on the interweb, and nothing. no pictures, no articles, no journal entries. naught. as if this guy didn't even exist. which is a shame, because he really is quite the character, just like his daddy was. surely not a coincidence following daddy's trouble with the Hague.
the only reason i know about this maniac is because of a 2002 article in bob guccione, jr's now defunct gear magazine. a grainy, full-page portrait of the sharp jawed, dead-eyed fuck. all spiked bleached blonde hair and pinky rings and tracky bottoms and sharp suits. real eurotrash, but you'd better not call him that to his face. lest you wanna be missing yours.
i laughed out loud at one particular anecdote: darko is at a cafe, minding his business, when a mentally retarded, elderly gentleman a few tables over begins witlessly staring at him in a retard's stupor. unforgiving of the fact that the man is not well, darko becomes noticeably agitated, shouting at the idiot to stop looking at him. of course the poor bastard doesn't respond.
so what does darko do?
he yanks his chrome IMI Mark XIX .50 AE Desert Eagle (the gun weighs nearly five pounds mind you) from his belt and proceeds to pistolwhip the retard in front of a restaurant full of people. he only stopped on account of fatigue. fucken thing's heavy!
talk about stuntin like my daddy! this was around the height of the ethnic cleansing over there.
bottom line: the guy heads an ecstasy and heroin syndicate that rivals those of mother russia, and he's crashed no less than 38 ferraris. think prince nazeem meets uday and qusay hussein, but without the boxing championships or the raping parties. ok, maybe there were some raping parties, but the journo was just too afraid to confront dude on it. eastern europe's a brutal place. they won't hear you scream.
and ps, i'll betcha darko's doing a lot of celebratory retard pistol-whipping and ferrari-crashin' after the serbian vic in the Eurovision Song Contest 2007. unless he's in exile or prison or fucking dead. thanks to the interweb blackout on this cat, i really wouldn't know.
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