A Lizard in a Woman’s Skin
Lucio Fulci’s A Woman in a Lizard’s Skin (1971) has all the acid-eater lingo a person could want. Als, no J&B but plenty of keys to the doors of perception.
If you got a little drunk every night instead of spending all that money on Dr. Kerr, it would soon cure your insomnia.
I present to you the 1970s: White phone, brown shirt, short tunic
Trust me; the grey looks great.
“Any other drugs?”
“Hashish, LSD, cocaine, marijuana” or, as they call it in New Orleans, Tuesday.
You found me out. I’m the killer.