Must despise me.
Must nightly wallow in beds of your own feces and vomit, plotting unimaginably heinous vengeance upon me for reasons that I don't want to comprehend.
Why do I know this?
I picked up a couple used trade papers of Warren Ellis' Transmetropolitan.
I'd never read Transmetropolitan.
I'd never even really looked at the artwork.
I'd never even gotten a firm picture of who these people were.
I knew NOTHING.
I simply knew that Warren Ellis wrote it, and I like his blog so I decided perhaps I should read his fiction.
Perhaps I should read his fiction.
HOW COULD YOU PEOPLE ABANDON ME LIKE THIS? WHY DID YOU NOT REFUSE TO SPEAK TO ME UNTIL I HAD READ SOME OF THIS?
WHY DO YOU HATE ME?
Fuckers.
I hate this place.
gee, I think the book made something of an impression.
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