She was dressed all in black, save for her ashen skin and her hair, which was three different shades of red, covered by a black bandana. Her black T-shirt was Satanic in persuasion—Misfits or Danzig or Metallica—and her black cargo jeans were streaked with scar-zippers. Her eyelids dripped black liner. She wore black jackboots and a hangman's noose worth of necklaces, and her ears were trimmed with enough silver to stop a... More >>>
By Jim Walsh
Go ahead and try to land a flying house on my head. I dare you.