It was that night I discovered that most things you consider evil or wicked are simply lonely, and lacking in the social niceties.
A man tells his stories so many times that he becomes the stories. They live on after him, and in that way he becomes immortal.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go home and have a heart attack.
Why the fuck didn't you tell us somebody was in the bathroom? Slipped your mind? Did you forget that somebody was in there with a goddamn hand cannon?
Well, let's not start sucking each other's dicks quite yet.
If my answers frighten you then you should cease asking scary questions.
Everybody's there, and I mean everybody. And the strange thing is, there's not a sad face to be found, everyone's just so happy to see you.