My movie namesake describes me thus: “She’s the devil incarnate. She’s Christine. Body by Plymouth, soul by Satan.”
When I am not busy mowing people over in the guise of a ’58 Plymouth Fury possessed by hell, you are likely to find me being stalked by operatic phantoms and demon goats. Oh, and when I was eleven I ran a website dedicated exclusively to cats (not of the musical kind). That last part is actually true.