What If I Left My Memory In

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.

Wolves Ate Even Mighty Hunters, For There Was No Honor Or Code Among Predators, And Everyone's Guts Steam The Same Way When Torn Open On A Cold Night.

He Was In Blue Jeans And A Work Shirt, Which Is Another Weird Quirk Of Rich Old Men. Just One Of The Guys Here. Blue Jeans And A Work Shirt, Salt Of The Earth, Working Man Like Yourself. Like They're Somehow Uncomfortable About Being Rich Enough To Sleep In A Bed Made Of Vaginas Being Pulled Around The Town At Night By A Fleet Of Gold-covered Midgets.

Drinking Is Fun! It Makes Me Feel Horrible And Sexy!

The Book Is Almost Always Better Than The Movie. You Could Have No Better Case In Point Than From Hell, Alan Moore's Best Graphic Novel To Date, Brilliantly Illustrated By Eddie Campbell. It's Hard To Describe Just How Much Better The Book Is. It's Like, "if The Movie Was An Episode Of Battlestar Galactica With A Guest Appearance By The Smurfs And Everyone Spoke Dutch, The Graphic Novel Is Citizen Kane With Added Sex Scenes And Music By Your Favourite Ten Bands And Everyone In The World You Ever Hated Dies At The End." That's How Much Better It Is.