I Don't Remember The Hotel Rooms Or

After You Hear Even The Shortest Great Story, It Should Fill You With A Little Bit Of Fear.

The Only Thing I Shy Away From Is Non-consensual Violence. I Can't Write A Story Where Someone Is A Simple Victim Because It's Boring.

Some Mythological Fat Asswipe Drives Our National Economy.

A Hotel, He Told Me, Was A Big House Where A Lot Of People Lived And Ate And Slept, But No One Knew Each Other. He Said That Described Most Families In The Outside World.

We Are Not Special. We Are Not Crap Or Trash, Either. We Just Are. We Just Are, And What Happens Just Happens.