At a reunion the other day, a volley of fact finding small talk was launched at my starboard side by a chirpy scouser: “What are you doing these days?” “Nothing,” I said in an honest kind of way. “Where do you live then?” “Well, nowhere really.” “You must live somwhere, surely?” “Not for any length […]

“I can’t believe you went to work after the weekend we all just had. I’ve phoned in sick for you for less,” I said to R. Indeed it had only been three days since I phoned his place of work to tell them R. was too unwell to get out of bed. I didn’t mention

I was whore-harrassingly drunk on my last night in Italy, and decided to watch the televised California governatorial public debate. I must say that the Huffy woman spoke a fair bit of sense, but that Lieutenant Governor Cruz Bustamante was pants. Not only did he look smug and arrogant, but he looked like his title