Never argue with the surreal; there's no winning against irrationality.
Kate GriffinMots clés the-midnight-mayor
I was the apprentice of Robert James Bakker. I'm sure you've heard of him. I am a sorcerer. I was there when Bakker died. We... made it happen. I too have met death, and did not have to peel the bones away from my chest to survive the encounter. I am also, and incidentally, the Midnight Mayor, the blue electric angels, the fire in the wire, the song in the telephones, and we are having a bad week. Be smart; fear us.
Kate GriffinMots clés the-midnight-mayor a-madness-of-angels matthew-swift the-neon-court
Whoever had said in the guidebooks that the bum bag was a sensible device against theft had lied; no single item of dressware ever invented cried out "mug me" more than a pouch of zip-up plastic suspended by your groin.
Kate GriffinMots clés humor the-midnight-mayor bum-bag fanny-pack kate-griffin
Always be polite to possible murderers: that was the twenty-four-hour-shopping philosophy.
Kate GriffinMots clés shopping the-midnight-mayor kate-griffin
Curiosity may have killed the cat, but paranoia was what tied it up in a sack and buried it in wet concrete.
Kate GriffinMots clés curiosity the-midnight-mayor kate-griffin
Paranoia seems more reasonable when you've got twelve stitches in your side.
Kate GriffinMots clés paranoia the-midnight-mayor kate-griffin
The whole calamity would be in one of those police reports that D. B. Sinclair and his "concerned citizens" filed carefully under "T" for "Things" at the back of a locked filing cabinet in the vehicle-licensing centre a day before a bonfire got accidentally out of control.
Kate GriffinMots clés the-midnight-mayor matthew-swift kate-griffin
But it's not healthy!” replied the Hag. “A mortal and a god sharing the same flesh?”
“You know, this isn't why we're here. I can get abuse pretty much wherever.”
“Yeah,” sighed the Maid, “but I bet a tenner I can make you cry in half a minute.
Mots clés mother the-midnight-mayor kate-griffin hag maiden
I looked at Judith. "This sounds strange, but I don't suppose you saw three mad women with a cauldron of boiling tea pass by this way?"
"No," she replied. The polite voice of reasonable people scared of exciting the madman.
"Flash of light? Puff of smoke? Erm..." I tried to find a polite way of describing the symptoms of spontaneous teleportation without using the dreaded "teleportation" word. I failed. I slumped back into the sand. What kind of mystic kept a spatial vortex at the bottom of their cauldrons of tea anyway?
Mots clés humor tea teleportation the-midnight-mayor kate-griffin
Men don't ask other men if they're getting home OK, they just assume that beneath the frail, weak exterior lurks a muscle-building kung fu master fearless of ever being mugged.
Kate GriffinMots clés humor men the-midnight-mayor kate-griffin
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