A former bon vivant and terror of a number of New Orleans bars in the mad, gay 1980s, I’m now quietly retired and widowed in San Francisco. I have a crooked nose due to an unfortunate Frisbee accident.
To live is to battle with trolls in the vaults of heart and brain. To write; this is to sit in judgment over one's Self. Henrik Ibsen
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Memoirs on the death of camp
An Unauthorized Autobiography
"One way or another, we all work for our vice."
An Unauthorized Autobiography
No kids, no pets, no sports
An Unauthorized Autobiography
An Unauthorized Autobiography
An Unauthorized Autobiography
An Unauthorized Autobiography
An Unauthorized Autobiography
An Unauthorized Autobiography
An Unauthorized Autobiography
An Unauthorized Autobiography
An Unauthorized Autobiography
I landed on your site via Tomass Hawkke’s blog. Spent an hour this morning reading your witty and articulate posts. Good stuff.
You wrote about the recent weather in San Francisco, and believe me there is nothing dearer to an English person’s heart than commenting on the weather. Here, it’s been relatively mild, but with savage gales and constant rain. If some weather forecaster on the BBC says we’ll have a drought this year, I swear I’ll throw a shoe at the telly.
Anyway, just to say, I eagerly await your next posts.
Robert.
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Your life (and therefore blog) is very interesting and I love that it is decorated with men with erections 😀
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cristianspresiga@gmail.com can email, I make a request, thanks
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