I had been corresponding with a lady in San Francisco for several months. Her name was Liza Weston and she survived by giving dance lessons, including ballet, in her own studio. She was...

“What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?” We got into my car and she told me where she lived. We stopped for a couple of big steaks, vegetables, stuff for a salad, potatoes, b...

murder the roaches spit out paper clips and the helicopter circles and cir… smelling for blood

The next time you listen to Borod… remember he was just a chemist who wrote music to relax; his house was jammed with peor e: students, artists, drunkards, bur…

this time has finished me. I feel like the German troops whipped by snow and the communists walking bent with newspapers stuffed into

these boys have got class they ought to make kings out of old men rolling cigarettes in rooms small enough

people went into vacant lots and pulled up greens to cook and the men rolled Bull Durham or smoked Wings (10 a pack) and the dogs were thin and the cats were thin and the cats learned h...

I went upstairs to 409, had a stiff scotch and water, took some money out of the top drawer, went down the steps, got in my car and drove to the racetrack. I got there in time for the f...

unaccountably we are alone forever alone and it was meant to be that way, was never meant

Katherine stayed 4 or 5 more days. We had reached the time of the month when it was risky for Katherine to fuck. I couldn’t stand rubbers. Katherine got some contraceptive foam. Meanwhi...

Back in L.A., there was almost a week of peace. Then the phone rang. It was the owner of a Manhattan Beach nightclub, Marty Seavers. I had read there a couple of times before. The club ...

they say that nothing is wasted: either that or it all is.