#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
I would, of course, prefer to be w… instead of with a photograph of an… to the sound of the anvil chorus a… girls kicking high, showing everyt… but I might as well be dead right…
here comes the fishhead singing here comes the baked potato in dra… here comes nothing to do all day l… here comes another night of no sle… here comes the phone wringing the…
listen, man, don’t tell me about t… sent, we didn’t receive them, we are very careful with manuscrip… we bake them burn them
no one is sorry I am leaving, not even I; but there should be a minstrel or at least a glass of wine. bothers the young most, I think:
I came out of the bar and checked the message board. The plane was on time. Katherine was in the air and moving towards me. I sat down and waited. Across from me was a well-groomed woma...
I walked into the counselor’s office. It was Eddie Beaver sitting behind the desk. The clerks called him “Skinny Beaver.” He had a pointed head, pointed nose, pointed chin. He was all p...
I keep thinking it will be outside now waiting for me blue front bumper twisted
sitting on a 2nd-floor porch at 1:… while looking out over the city. could be worse. we needn’t accomplish great things…
It was a Wednesday night, 12:30 am and I was very sick. My stomach was raw, but I managed to hold down a few beers. Tammie was with me and she seemed sympathetic. Dancy was at her grand...
too much too little too fat too thin or nobody.
A week later I was driving down Hollywood Boulevard with Lydia. A weekly entertainment newspaper published in California at that time had asked me to write an article on the life of the...
One day I was at the bar between races and I saw this woman. God or somebody keeps creating women and tossing them out on the streets, and this one’s ass is too big and that one’s tits ...
Then the supervisor moved us to a new aisle. We had been there ten hours. “Before you begin,” the soup said, "I want to tell you some– thing. Each tray of this type of mail must be stuc...
majestic, majic infinite my little girl is sun on the carpet—
I am in this low—slung sports car painted a deep, rich yellow driving under an Italian sun. I have a British accent. I’m wearing dark shades