Terribly New York

There’s something about travel that cannot help but make even the biggest moron think of all the science involved. How does the plane stay up? Where does all our wee go when we flush; do the birds get wet? Why is this bread so hard? And so on. There’s also something about being a visitor…

Stupid Mafia

“Remember, my dear – people suck.” said Socrates to Aristotle shortly before being dragged to his hemlocky death. Or something. Or not. Whatever. I’m reminded of the made up quote mid-paddy as I tear around my Las Vegas hotel room at ten to five in the morning, my decadent Nevadan lie-in plopped on from a…

Return to Hollywood

I’m lying on a makeshift bed on the floor with one ear trying to tune out the ladysnores of Girlfriend 1, and the other ear trying to tune in to signs of life from Girlfriend 2, who sleeps disconcertingly like she’s dead. Outside I can hear the sky being unzipped by the trails of planes;…

Love Sack, Baby

I’ve always been absolutely useless at saying goodbyes. Even the easy kind. Leaving friends at the pub will often be a fifteen minute hug-fest, then I’ll be halfway out the door when something in my heart will lurch. I’ll turn around with a false memory of having left a tissue strewn on the floor and…

Voices In Your Head

It’s oft been said that talking to yourself is the first sign of madness. It’s the kind of thing annoying people say when they find you muttering over dropped paperwork. You know the scene: you berate yourself out loud for being clumsy, then they lean in and shrug “You know what they say… First sign…