Werewolves out in the World, Part X

“X” as in Jason X, yes. I did love that installment. Jason all chrome, and in space, with the same machete as ever? I can’t even imagine how to imagine that. Luckily I just got to go the movies, see it. Anyway, this may be the longest of these screencap sessions yet. Reason being: been a crazy last few days. Anybody wanting to catch up with the nine rider that came before, here’s the clicks: Gunter Glieben Glauten Globen [ at which point Mutt Lange ceases to be of any help, and we have to fall back on normal/boring numbers . . . ] Five, as in, how many fingers Homer doesn’t have Six, that is, when the REAL Jason comes back to F13 Seven, that being the number-son that’s automagically a werewolf Eight, the butterfly’s favorite number Nine, homophone AND scrambled-up letters for “nien,” which has surely led to many hilarious confusions At which point, let’s go: Truth? You know how, say, a person might write a story about dog-headed people in order to rid himself of the very real fear of a dog-headed human? Purely hyopthetical, here. Like, Sam Waterston-era Law & Order hypothetical. As in, not talking about anybody in this room. In the same way, I thought that if I were to write about yoga pants (which weren’t a thing in the years Mongrels is getting written) and stretch pants and tights and hose and leggings, then maybe, just maybe, it would finally dawn on me, the difference between them all, that my wife  . . . → → →

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