Read comics. All comics. And then cut them open to steal their power.

Its a strange world. Lets keep it that way.

Santa Monica's only walkable if death is no hurdle. The air's the wrong colour. People put sunglasses on their dogs. It's a hideous place where humans are not welcome and those who stay suffer eight kinds of brain damage.

Dance like you're stamping on a human face forever, love like you've been in a serious car crash that minced the front of your brain, stab like no one can arrest you, and live like there's no such thing as God.

What if I left my memory in the future and I have to catch up to it?

I was having a mildly paranoid day, mostly due to the fact that the mad priest lady from over the river had taken to nailing weasels to my front door again.

What? I bring joy to the world. I am filled with mirth and sunlight. Also, I am Batman.