And Of Course, The Answer Came To

As A Young Child I Had Santa And Jesus All Mixed Up. I Could Identify Coke Or Pepsi With Just One Sip, But I Could Not Tell You For Sure Why They Strapped Santa To A Cross. Had He Missed A House? Had A Good Little Girl Somewhere In The World Not Received The Doll He'd Promised Her, Making The Father Angry?

To Me, These People Were As Exotic As Animals In A Zoo. I'd Never Seen Anything Like Them. I Wasn't Sure Whether I Wanted To Be One Of Them Or Simply Live Among Them Taking Notes And Photographs.

You Are Allowed To Be Alive. You Are Allowed To Be Somebody Different. You Are Allowed To Not Say Goodbye To Anybody Or Explain A Single Thing To Anyone, Ever.

What Police Officer Would Dare Ticket Death's Minivan?

I Never Get Sick Of Writing My Own Stories Because There's A Certain Comfort In Knowing You Will Never Run Out Of Material. It's Relaxing, Actually, To Write.