Board The Cows! We've Come To Enslave

Who But The Mad Would Choose To Keep On Living? In The End, Aren't We All Just A Little Crazy?

It's Only His Thumb Brushing Slowly Across The Lower Edge Of My Lip, But It's As If Time Slows And The Sweep Of That Thumb Below My Mouth Takes Forever. It Is No Spell That I Know Of, But It Holds Such Magic, I Can Scarcely Breath. He Pulls His Hand Away Fast, Aware Of What He's Done. But His Touch Lingers.

Time Has No Meaning. I Feel As If I Have Been Left In The Desert To Die And Am Eagerly Awaiting The Vultures To Begin Their Work And End My Misery.

Gonzo Narrows His Eyes. 'how Often Do You Clean That Thing?' 'every Night,' The Waitress Answers. Her Smile Is Strained. 'that's It? Do You Know How Long It Takes For Listeria To Grow Under Those Hot Lamps, Even With Ice?' Here We Go. 'it Can Happen In Just Five Hours. Five Hours And You've Got The Salad Bar Of Death!' The Waitress Looks Confused. 'from Listerine?

Really, Being A Librarian Is A Much More Dangerous Job Than You Realize.