Why The Hell Shouldn't I Run Away

We Traveled For Two Weeks With A Pickled Hippo.

I Had My Whole Life Planned.. I Knew Exactly Where It Was Taking Me.

I Am Ninety. Or Ninety-three. One Or The Other.

...poking A Lump Of Red Jello That Jiggles Outrageously, Like A Breast I Once Knew.

The Only Thing That Makes Me Crazier Than Writing Is Not Writing.