Bat stood in the open door and said “I am a crime scene unit detective from the New York City Police Department, you heinous fucking mongoloid, and there is nothing I cannot do.

Writing comics? Still the best job in the world. I sit around all day making shit up and see it illustrated, in 99% of cases, exactly as I imagined it — if not better. I’ve...

The untreated cardboard sleeve around the venti-plus cup, stamped with biodegradable inks, proclaiming the coffee shop’s proud independence, the simple black printing on the flecked card making its own statement about authenticity.

If contemporary literary fiction doesn’t read a bit like science fiction then it’s probably not all that contemporary, is it

Tallow walked into Bat and Scarly’s office to find Bat slumped on a chair with his head on the workbench, turned away from the door, while Scarly softly sharpened on old straight razor on a...

Chris Claremont once said of Alan Moore, “if he could plot, we’d all have to get together and kill him.” Which utterly misses the most compelling part of Alan’s writing, the way he develops and...

I opened my eyes to see the rat taking a piss in my coffee mug. It was a huge brown bastard; had a body like a turd with legs and beady black eyes full of...

If you believe that your thoughts originate inside your brain, do you also believe that television shows are made inside your television set?

She’s really married?” Tallow said to Bat.”Yeah. Talia’s like this Scandinavian Amazon who can break rocks with her boobs. She could fit Scarly in her armpit. Sometimes I think she likes Scarly just because she...

Yesterday, here in the middle of the City, I saw a wolf turn into a Russian ex-gymnast and hand over a business card that read YOUR OWN PERSONAL TRANSHUMAN SECURITY WHORE! STERILIZED INNARDS! ACCEPTS ALL...

Once in a very blue moon, John Tallow imagined his younger self standing down the timeline of his present life, bare toes curling in teenage beach sand, looking ahead to today and watching his future...

By four o’clock, I’ve discounted suicide in favor of killing everyone else in the entire world instead.

There ain’t enough happens in soccer. It’s like watching twenty-two hair models kick a ball around for what seems like six months and then one of them falls over and the ball goes in the...

The City went to me in a LANDSLIDE, and you know why? Because all it wants is decent television, a bit of spare change for booze, and a blowjob every Saturday night.

Scotch whisky is made from barley and the morning dew on angel’s nipples.

Straight people are so fucking weird.

Did you ever want to set someone’s head on fire, just to see what it looked like? Did you ever stand in the street and think to yourself, I could make that nun go blind...

Where’s the elevator?” Mike asked, sheathing his weapon. Tallow felt a little better telling Mike there wasn’t an elevator and watching his face. But then Mike picked up the dolly, boxes and all, with one...

Mister Sun wondered if he really believed it was true that the heart is just a pump.

You think that drinking with a serial killer takes you into the midnight currents of the culture? I say bullshit. There’s been twelve TV documentaries, three movies and eight books about me. I’m more popular...

Drinking is fun! It makes me feel horrible and sexy!

The two guys who ran the place, always in Williamsburg hipster uniforms of short-sleeved shirts and neatly trimmed beards that looked stuck on with spirit gum, paid, as ever, no attention to anything but the...

To be a futurist, in pursuit of improving reality, is not to have your face continually turned upstream, waiting for the future to come. To improve reality is to clearly see where you are, and...

There’s one hole in every revolution, large or small. And it’s one word long— PEOPLE. No matter how big the idea they all stand under, people are small and weak and cheap and frightened. It’s...

I want a tattoo over my heart that reads TRY HARDER YOU LAZY PARAMEDIC SHITBAG OR I WILL HAUNT YOUR BEDROOM FOREVER

Tallow was nervously aware that his name was on the worse cold-case dump CSU had ever seen. He was not looking forward to having them look at him and judge by eye exactly how much...

That was a stupid idea I made up while drunk. Why did someone build that?

You never get tired of looking at the stars

Dance like you’re stamping on a human face forever, love like you’ve been in a serious car crash that minced the front of your brain, stab like no one can arrest you, and live like...

Detective John Tallow, 1st Precinct.””You,” said Scarly. “I hate you so much my dick is hard.

Our guy has a property office, John. And I don’t mean the Property Office here in One PP. I mean the huge fucking storage facility. A guy in there, with access to thousands of fucking...

At the departure gate, a drunken airport security woman was handing out box cutters to the passengers.

You’re miserable, edgy and tired. You’re in the perfect mood for journalism.

Tallow turned the corner into Bat and Scarly’s office to be greeted by a large plastic robot on the bench waving its arms and shouting, “Say hello to my l’il frien'” in an electronically processed...

Jim Rosato was recently married, to a Greek nurse. Rosato was half Irish and half Italian, and there was a pool on at the 1st as to which of the two would arrive at work...

He’d always liked women who’d talk back to him just a little bit. “Girls with balls” were good. Women with an actual mind of their own who could prove him wrong in something were, of...

The book is almost always better than the movie. You could have no better case in point than FROM HELL, Alan Moore’s best graphic novel to date, brilliantly illustrated by Eddie Campbell. It’s hard to...

The ECTs are moving the guns in small batches,” Bat said. “We’re making them take so many photos that one of them asked if she was being trained to shoot porno.

Of course I don’t care if you’re bleeding! I’m fucking autistic!

Here in Britain, of course, it’s Thank Fuck We Got Those Weird Jesus Bastards On The Boat Day

Writer’s block? I’ve heard of this. This is when a writer cannot write, yes? Then that person isn’t a writer anymore. I’m sorry, but the job is getting up in the fucking morning and writing...

He tried to close a hand around the precious coffee but had to jerk his fingers away, sharply enough that his wrist popped painfully. Tallow wondered if the other end of the coffee machine was...

The elevator doors opened to reveal a very large man brandishing a bloodstained antique phone receiver in a plastic bag and proclaiming, “I found this up him!””You know,” said Tallow, “I really have no response...