Horror Is The Removal Of

Friendship Is Like Peeing On Yourself: Everyone Can See It, But Only You Get The Warm Feeling That It Brings.

The Man Who Smiles When Things Go Wrong Has Thought Of Someone To Blame It On.

Then She Did See It There - Just A Face, Peering Through The Curtains, Hanging In Midair Like A Mask. A Head-scarf Concealed The Hair And The Glassy Eyes Stared Inhumanly, But It Wasn’t A Mask, It Couldn’t Be. The Skin Had Been Powdered Dead-white And Two Hectic Spots Of Rouge Centered On The Cheekbones. It Wasn’t A Mask. It Was The Face Of A Crazy Old Woman. Mary Started To Scream, And Then The Curtains Parted Further And A Hand Appeared, Holding A Butcher’s Knife. It Was The Knife That, A Moment Later, Cut Off Her Scream. And Her Head.

Despite My Ghoulish Reputation, I Really Have The Heart Of A Small Boy. I Keep It In A Jar On My Desk.

Funny How We Take It For Granted That We Know All There Is To Know About Another Person, Just Because We See Them Frequently Or Because Of Some Strong Emotional Tie.