The sun's not yellow, it's chicken

Perhaps I shouldn't have started reading Heart-Shaped Box after visiting Alcatraz and all its attendant coolness/creepiness. It's not like the audio tour was highlighted with weird creaks and the misery of men penned up on a barren rock. No. And it's not like the damn book has already creeped me out after a mere 50 pages. And it's not like there is no damn freezer in this freaking hotel room, so I'm not even safe from the book when I'm done reading, and I've hid it under my sweatshirt. Nope.