When, fueled by drink and revenge-thirst, anger, sexual frustration and overweening self-pity, in in a final narcissistic convulsion, the writer rolls up his or her thwarted vanity into one giant ball and fires it out on to the page in a continuous spewing volley of articulate bile.
― colin s barrow (colin s barrow), Thursday, 24 April 2003 12:26 (twenty-two years ago)