. . .

She Wore Long Boots And High-Collars, Giving Away How Short She Looked And How Stupid She Felt.

Her binder was vague, with duct-tape and old pieces of baby-box cardboard, and spiral ink-designs.

I wanted to get in fights with her. Drop big, unnecessary words when we saw each other outside of school, holding her hands to keep them from hitting herself.

She meant everything she said and I couldn't understand a thing.

And I never wanted it to stop.

As Always, Thank You, Anonymous, For The Terrifying Postcard.

Nude Hat, Page 372.

Most times when I see Dr. Shumacher, I don't tell the doctor jack shit. The way I figure, I only have so many memories, and I don't want to use them up.

'Til You Move And Put A Gate Up.

Fink Park, someplace, writes, "He's a funny little gay man who tells stories about being funny, little, and gay. I have a lot of him because I, too, am funny, little, and gay, except for I'm not very funny, I'm pretty big, and I'm not gay."

. . .

Down, Lawn, Y Goa, Page 214.

"Oh, no," said Jess. "Aaaaagh. Help. We'll just panic, I s'pose."

. . .

Behind : Lists.

Marginally Good Record, Cumulatively Low-Voted Out Of Duty On Several Contributors' Lists, Propelling It To Top Spot

Everybody At Office Wishes It Murdered In A Car Park, But Chief Editor's Favourite

"Pounding," "Accomplished," "Belting," "Angular"

Massive Pop Act To Show We-Don't-Care-What-You-Think Journalistic Heroism, But Over-Expected & Safe Choice Undermines Effect

Sex-Free 4/4 Indie-Disco, Applauded As "First Real Marriage Of Rock & Dance"

Black Person

Unironically Used Rock Icon Careerist, Elected In For Historical & Name-Recognition Credibility

Warners Gave Us Suspicious Prostitutes With Large Hands

Small-Gone-Massive Indie Band, A Vote For A Music Writer's Life-Bred Illusions Of A Profound & Romantic Black Sheep Self-Image In The Face Of An Unrecognized Need For Deep-Down-They-Like-Me Social Acceptance

Beck