Good Writin' Ain't Necessarily Good Readin'.

Loved. You Can't Use It In The Past Tense. Death Does Not Stop That Love At All.

I Don't Think You Fully Understand The Public, My Friend; In This Country, When Something Is Out Of Order, Then The Quickest Way To Get It Fixed Is The Best Way.

We'd Just Shared The Last Beer And Slung The Empty Can Out The Window At A Stop Sign And Were Just Waiting Back To Get The Feel Of The Day, Swimming In That Kind Of Tasty Drowsiness That Comes Over You After A Day Of Going Hard At Something You Enjoy Doing -- Half Sunburned And Half Drunk And Keeping Awake Only Because You Wanted To Savor The Taste As Long As You Could.

I Was Raised A Christian And Was A Stone-faced Acid Head.

This World Belongs To The Strong, My Friend! The Ritual Of Our Existence Is Based On The Strong Getting Stronger By Devouring The Weak. We Must Face Up To This. No More Than Right That It Should Be This Way. We Must Learn To Accept It As A Law Of The Natural World. The Rabbits Accept Their Role In The Ritual And Recognize The Wolf As The Strong. In Defense, The Rabbit Becomes Sly And Frightened And Elusive And He Digs Holes And Hides When The Wolf Is About. And He Endures, He Goes On. He Knows His Place. He Most Certainly Doesn't Challenge The Wolf To Combat. Now, Would That Be Wise? Would It?