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Kindle Notes & Highlights
Everyone looked murderous and inbred. When the sun shone they would cast off their thick woollens, unscrew their faces, and smile. But in winter the whole city looked like a casting call for Deliverance.
Years of chain smoking had left her face looking like a holiday home for lines and wrinkles.
Roadkill was right: they couldn’t force him to make a complaint against the people who blackened his eye, split his lip, loosened three of his teeth, cracked one of his ribs and kicked him repeatedly in the goolies. They were his goolies after all.
‘There speaks someone who’s never had kids. Soon as the little buggers learn to talk they don’t stop till their hormones kick in and they become teenagers. Then you can’t get a bloody word out of them.
‘WHINGING POLICE BASTARD THROTTLED WITH OWN GENITALS IN PARKED CAR!’ He was just deciding whether it should be an OBE or a knighthood he’d get for killing the moaning wee sod
The day was dark as a lawyer’s soul.
Someone had climbed inside his head and was trying to push the contents out of his ears. His eyes, normally a reasonable crystal blue, looked like something out of The Brides of Dracula.
‘How you feeling?’ ‘Other than the brass band kicking seven shades of shite out of my brain? Not bad.’
