The third time you commit murder, you change into that extra shirt you brought along, the one that’s not covered in blood, and you go out for a drink.
The five of us are the big brains supposedly in charge of Hell. Really, we’re a bunch of second-rate mechanics trying to keep the wheels from coming off a burning gasoline truck skidding toward a scho...
The Magistrate says something to him and stands at the edge of the flatbed, a preacher addressing his flock. Charlie Manson laying out the plans for Helter Skelter.
The Bad Dad thing usually works. Hellions are big on pecking orders and I have to remind them regularly who’s at the top. Now they need a pat on the head from Good Dad before things go all Hansel and...
No, humans are good at growing bones, toenails, and cancer. That’s about it.
My ass and back ache like someone gave me a baseball-bat massage.
Maybe home isn’t the place you love, just the place you know best.
Make her stop. I’m hungover and she has a robot. It’s not fair. Life is fair only in the grave and in the bedroom. This, you will notice, is neither.
Look at my face. I didn’t get these scars in pillow fights. That seems to convince her. Never doubt the power of ugly.
Kids need their minds blown every now and then. It’ll keep them from thinking that managing a McDonald’s is the most they can hope for.
I’ve got plenty on my plate. Till then, Ishii can piss his sorrows in a teapot and brew himself a hot cup of fuck off.
It’s part of why I came to Los Angeles. My real work. I kill the dead.
It’s not necessary to fill every moment with your own voice. Silence terrifies you. You see your own existence as so tenuous that you’re afraid you’ll pop like a bubble if, at every opportunity, you d...
It’s like God left his lunch in the microwave and you get to finish it.
It's so quiet and peaceful out here I'm getting bored with breathing. Maybe we'll get lucky and the world will go to Hell again. Fingers crossed.
I'm trying very hard not to think about anything I'm doing. Of all the iffy things I've ever done in my life, I've never had to ditch a body before. While it's giving me a migraine right now, I think...
I say, The Elmer Gantry act is very convincing, but why pretend you’re Wormwood? That doesn’t make any sense.
I say, How do I look? Like a pail of manure dragged down a bumpy road and dumped into a river of puke, says a familiar voice from behind me.
I pull the cork and pour a glass full. Give it a sniff. There it is. The heady bouquet of gasoline and hot pepper. I sip it and shudder a little. It burns just right going down.
I played minigolf once, but the windmill scared me. I try to avoid excitement these days.