As With All Other Aspects Of Fiction,

I Saw Something Even More Beautiful Than A Sense Of Humor: An Appreciation For Life’s Essential Absurdity.

Hemingway Sucks. If I Set Out To Write That Way, It Would Have Been Been Hollow And Lifeless Because It Wasn't Me.

It Was Life, Often Unsatisfying, Frequently Cruel, Usually Boring, Sometimes Beautiful, Once In A While Exhilarating.

Now I Think All Of Us Were Born With A Hole In Our Hearts, And We Go Around Looking For The Person Who Can Fill It. You... You Fill Me Up.

Close Your Eyes And Click Your Heals Three Times...because There's No Place Like Dome.