26 November 2014

When I was walking to work this morning (technically yesterday) I remembered the last thing I thought about before I passed out the previous night: it was my character Gritt Calhoon on a boat to Antarctica, saying, “O ghosts of fuckin’ mist and ice, guide this blessed fuckin’ vessel to the wastes of the South Pole. May our boots taste that dead earth at first light. Amen.”