A Heap of Random Thoughts
Love books. Love reading. Don’t love a genre.
The fact that the number of SF authors who would have sex with their cats is not zero is disconcerting to say the least.
Ishmael Reed should be as popular Kurt Vonnegut.
You can judge how healthy a relationship is by how well its members can work together in a kitchen.
Heavy metal is good. Louder heavy metal is better.
Mental incontinence might be more destructive than mental incompetence.
Some folks are ignorant chuckleheads more in love with mansplaining and the sounds of their own voices than in actually saying something worth acknowledging.
The best thing about writing by hand is the sense of accomplishment one feels when one’s pen runs out of ink.
“He cried like some high school twerp screaming emo at the world because the mall’s book kiosk didn’t carry Naked Lunch.”
Some folks think of books as entertainment. I prefer to think of them as mind-altering substances.
Yesterweird 
Mind-altering. Your mind must be gumby-like by now.
More like Mr. Fantastic.
You know, once I had a teacher when I was very young, maybe 2nd grade, ask us to come up with our own examples of a simile. She’d just taught us the concept. I said that someone jumped as high as the incredible hulk.
She said that was wrong. That the hulk wasn’t known for jumping. That a frog would be the better comparison.
Glad that you understand the important references.
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