Beautiful fake seashells it is not really creepy for Wolverine to have as nails. Didn’t he also moonlight as a pimp? And didn’t his blades turn, werewolf-style, into a vast unwieldy collection of cheap drugstore tissues he was nevertheless proud of?
I asked my cousin nicely if he also had this weird way of surviving. No, he blurted. He was a terrible conversationalist. But he was also a diabetic – in fact he was known as The Orange Diabetic, because he was orange, and sort of pasty, and he loved looking at himself in the bathroom mirror, which was how he survived; a part of his face was cleverly abridged, canceled out, like a rectangular strip of wallpaper carefully torn off the wall, gone, missing, colorlessly fasered – this part now lives in your aquarium and turns a scary shocking blue whenever an inquisitive goldfish swims by too closely or inquisitively.
THAT’S how my cousin survived.