I can't help but notice that some of the side streets of Bloomingthon get really dark after midnight. Doesn't help to be kind of unsober and talking out loud to yourself about drinking the blood of angels (cause the blood of men runs dry), bloody mary, the dream beneath New York, buzzsaw cocks and filleting machines. Gets kind of spooky, it does.
However, I imagine it's also pretty spooky have to be a tiny co-ed having to pass a bulky-unwashed type talking aloud about such things on the sidewalk. Took off at quite a pace, she did.
Finished reading. The Ashes of Eden. And. The Return. And. Spectre. By William. Shatner.
They are. Full of. Short. Disjointed sentences. Kind of like. This. Every scene break. Ends. With someone. About to die. But never actually. Doing so.
From what I know. Of Shatner's speech style. This is. Par for the course.
For some reason. I find this.