You're Going To Break My Heart, Aren't

Even A Mentally Challenged Shark Would Figure Out That Sea Turtles Did Not Wear Boxer Shorts Printed In Flying Piggies, And No Sea Turtle Would Be Yattering Streams Of Obscenities Between Chain-smoker Gasps Of Breath.

She Was An Alien, Really - A Sort Of Eating, Pooping, Tantrum Machine - And He Didn't Understand Anything About Her Species.

. . . And So Charlie Asher . . . Led An Army Of Fourteen-inch-tall Bundles Of Animal Bits, Armed With Everything From Knitting Needles To A Spork, Into The Storm Sewers Of San Fransciso.

He Was A Writer And Words Were His Weapons.

If You Have Come To These Pages For Laughter, May You Find It. If You Are Here To Be Offended, May Your Ire Rise And Your Blood Boil. If You Seek An Adventure, May This Song Sing You Away To Blissful Escape. If You Need To Test Or Confirm Your Beliefs, May You Reach Comfortable Conclusions. All Books Reveal Perfection, By What They Are Or What They Are Not. May You Find That Which You Seek, In These Pages Or Outside Them. May You Find Perfection, And Know It By Name.