Sometimes you have to walk. You have to walk miles to tramp out the shame and disgust. I had to walk 6 miles. I had a supermarket coupon ...

France. La France. O France. Comment tu es belle la France. Go fuck yourself in the arse, La France! It's too late to start again no...

My reading of SICK, accompanied on guitar by the one & only Mr Peter Doherty. L'Olympia, Paris, March 2016.

The last time I had seen Trey he was marching back and forth outside the 24hr pharmacy, fighting with himself over whether or not he sho...

My official website, containing all my collated writings, can be found below.

Stooped over in the shelter of a shop doorway I vomited up a sickness from the very dull of my gut. I remained like that, vomit water burn...