Minsk! How Pissed-off That Sounded! It Was

Slasher Hathaway Marks His Territory By Spending Money. He Might As Well Have Pissed On Her. It Means Nothing.

He Seemed Wild And Dangerous And Carefree--well, He Would, Would'nt He? What Were Motorcycles And Black Leather Pants If Not The Uniform Of A Wild, Dangerous And Carefree Man?

Failed Relationships Can Be Described As So Much Wasted Makeup. Forget The Laughs, Forget The Fights, Forget The Sex, Forget The Jealousy. But Take Off Your Hat And Observe A Moment's Silence For The Legions Of Unknown Tubes Of Foundation, Mascara, Eyeliner, Blusher And Lipstick Who Died That It Might All Have Been Possible. But Who Died In Vain.

The Back Windows Looked Out Over The Fields, Then The Atlantic, Maybe A Hundred Yards Away. Actually, I'm Just Making That Bit Up. I Had No Idea How Far Away The Sea Was. Only Men Could Do Things Like That. "half A Mile." "fifty Yards." Giving Directions, That Sort Of Thing. I Could Look At A Woman And Say "thirty-six C." Or "let's Try It In The Next Size Up." But I Had No Idea How Far Away Tim's Sea Was Except That I Wouldn't Want To Walk To It In High Heels.

Some Think Love Can Be Measured By The Amount Of Butterflies In Their Tummy. Others Think Love Can Be Measured In Bunches Of Flowers, Or By Using The Words 'for Ever.' But Love Can Only Truly Be Measured By Actions. It Can Be A Small Thing, Such As Peeling An Orange For A Person You Love Because You Know They Don't Like Doing It.