If You Believe That Your Thoughts Originate

There Was A Time When I Liked A Good Riot. Put On Some Heavy Old Street Clothes That Could Stand A Bit Of Sidewalk-scraping, Infect Myself With Something Good And Contagious, Then Go Out And Stamp On Some Cops. It Was Great, Being Nine Years Old.

Santa Monica's Only Walkable If Death Is No Hurdle. The Air's The Wrong Colour. People Put Sunglasses On Their Dogs. It's A Hideous Place Where Humans Are Not Welcome And Those Who Stay Suffer Eight Kinds Of Brain Damage.

What? I Bring Joy To The World. I Am Filled With Mirth And Sunlight. Also, I Am Batman.

Scotch Whisky Is Made From Barley And The Morning Dew On Angel's Nipples.

I Grew Up In The 80s In England: We'd Wake Up Each Morning And Look Out The Window To See If The Government Had Finally Put Daleks On The Streets.