Sheeting down at my sealed double glazing locked bubble shaking the day with your reign armies queueing behind you, diaries full anti-sun missiles at the ready 'don't you dare try it, squire'

If you can sit above all the hard work and claim it for your own You'll be a man ager, my son. Profuse apologies to RK Really, really terribly sorry.

A cute boy lends me his shoes and I'm speechless...

My general space at this point in time...

He’s got a Pistol Mr Wilson He’s gone and got himself a gun He’s gonna shoot somebody down sir I think it’s time for us to run. He’s walking up towards the school sir

I want to see through Ginsberg's eyes, Tattered prince of the lower East side,

Chapter Six ‘When was the last time that we had sex, Shelly?’ he fired at her back. She stopped, turned and looked at him with tears tracking down her cheeks, but didn’t answer. ‘When was the last time that we actually succeeded in having full on, penetrative, go-until-the-end, sex? Oh, I don’t mean the last time we attempted anything resembling a love life. Do you remember that, Shelly? Do you? It was nearly two months ago so you might have forgotten. We’d just got all romantic, settled down to business and there he is, standing outside the locked door shouting, Shelly Fucking May, at the top of his fucking voice. Couldn’t ignore him, could you? Couldn’t block it out for five damned minutes and pretend to be a proper wife. No, first time, last time, every fucking time, Sammy has to come first. What about me, Shelly? What about me?’

And so it was with Adrian the day was over and it was time to go home. Adrian would have gone home, but he did not have a home to go to.

Quicky thru the train window.