while Charles Manson, Esq., pats the bongoes and recites scabrous prose poems party
Next, exploring my powerhouse elder brother's desk I came across a body-building mag, called Tensio-Dynamism or something, one of the ones that explains to you how to kick the shit out of anyone who bugs you at the seaside. Resignedly I went back to my room, curled up in bed with it, started turnin…
Legless buskers cavorted outside Holland Park Underground. I bought some newspapers (Fleet Street's big two, in fact, the Sun and the Mirror), leftily dropped ten pence into the musicians' bowler hat and stood there reading the headlines, tapping my foot to a trilled-up version of 'Oh, You Beautifu…
with a frowsy sigh, she offered to take me on a tour of the school
this is nearly always tolerable if one is wholehearted about it and almost invariably emetic if one isn't
