. It was the summer of the year before last. In a bar in Paris, in the early afternoon heat, Tony O'neill and I were swapping books, sc...

. To the two people who mailed this week wishing that my absence hopefully means I'm dead.... Well I'm not!  I've been trying a...

. The toughest thing about being poor was having no curtains. It meant the other kids could see in, could see the bare floors, the beat-u...

. Letter #1  Dear Alan, Do you ever think of the years 1988 – 1993, that incredible six year long summer we spent together which built ...

For those of you checking for a new post or feed, the wait is almost over.... There'll be a new Memoires post put up within the next f...

. Sick. We were sick. We lay in bed, wrapped up in filthy blankets, smoking, sometimes fucking, doing animal things, you know... like being...

. There's been a murder, a young girl, and now I can't sleep.  It happened a little over four hours ago. I woke up to a symphony ...