![]() ![]() ![]() After that it's one long refrain of "Where's my fucking column?!" ![]() "That ignorant, thick-lipped, evil, whorehopping editor phones me up and says, "Does the word contract mean anything to you, Jerusalem?" I was having a mildly paranoid day, mostly due to the fact that the mad priest lady from over the river had taken to nailing weasels to my front door again."Īnd so it is that to avoid being sued Spider Jerusalem has to return to a noisy, stinking city he loathes but which feeds him exactly what he needs to write, and hunt down old friend Mitchell Royce, city editor of The Word, for a regular, paying column in which to scream truth to apathy and blind eyes turned. ![]() So here is he is with not a word written, hairy and naked and covered in tattoos, the guns now bartered for drugs which have long since run out and the devil is wanting his due: Five years ago he sold his ass to a publisher for a two-book deal whose advance he squandered on escaping his fans by barricading himself up in a shack on a mountainside and surrounding it with mines, guns and ammunition. Aim it right, and you can blow a kneecap off the world."Ĭampaigning journalist Spider Jerusalem is a very cranky man. It's only got one bullet in it, but if you aim right, that's all you need. ![]()
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