You Aren't Ever Going To Be Anything

I'm Writing This Book Because We're All Going To Die.

Ah, You Always Go For The Ones Who Don't Really Want You

It All Ends In Tears Anyway.

I Could Hear Dean, Blissful And Blabbering And Frantically Rocking. Only A Guy Who's Spent Five Years In Jail Can Go To Such Maniacal Helpless Extremes; Beseeching At The Portals Of The Soft Source, Mad With A Completely Phsycial Realization Of The Origins Of Life-bliss; Blindly Seeking To Return The Way He Came

If You Own A Rug You Own Too Much.