The sinking pub that won’t go under
There’s hardly a level surface in Roche’s, the boozer built on a bog in rural Ireland
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Life
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Life
Billie Eilish likes my mate’s band
The popstar’s praise “fucked up” Black Box Recorder’s retirement
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I bear little resemblance to my Wikipedia page
It had clearly been edited by someone trying to make me out to be an enemy of the people
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The highs and lows of London’s literary scene
Also: a dreamy new novel, and my relapse
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The death of the women’s magazine
The magazines I worked for weren’t perfect. But they were better than what we have now
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Borrowing money is wearying for the soul
It’s only two-thirds of the way through the month and I have minus £25 in the bank
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All good things must come to an end
On eating spaghetti alle vongole and getting a call from the bailiffs
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At my 36th Passover, I finally feel like a grown-up
When does one truly become an adult?
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