If you see everyone around you prosper while you continue to grovel in dogshite, don’t believe it’s because god hates you. it’s because he’s testing you. then ask WHY is he testing you? answer: because he hates you.

now that all that steve jobs bollocks is over, here’s my thought for the day: i have well nigh a billion times more respect for a drunken pissing bum in the street than a billionaire who spouts crap about buddhism & living your dream. living your dream has NOTHING to do with success. it has EVERYTHING to do with living on the barbaric jagged edge of your own quiet volition. the real buddhism in THAT story is: billions in the bank will NOT stave off death and disease, so clearly mateys. money IS NOT where it’s at!

June 2001. I’m in New York interpreting for a French minister of state who keeps getting personal stuff done with public money. and keeps staring at my (very fit, at the time) knees in my Chanel skirt suit (groan). me i’m just always making eyes at the hot hunky puerto rican dudes on the street corners. that’s democracy for you. a suite at the waldorf, work with a brainless c*nt and hot puerto rican dudes. (you heard it here first etc.)

obama let troy davis die. brazil’s lefty woman prez sanctions a big canal that’ll destroy more land and people. only proves it isn’t who you are. color gender bollocks. it’s where your heart is. that’s what will do it everytime. either you’re a rebel or you’re not. and how do you know? it’s based on what you’re willing to give up. that’s what it’s about. never anything else.  cheers!

Up after 3 hours of sleep again… burnout? come on in, it will have been just a few weeks since we last met… coffee, tea, whiskey, moi?

i can now calculate spine width based on paper types, i know when to release what kind of book, i know what makes a book good or not, where to print in the world and how much, i know marketing (what works what doesn’t, otherwise marketing evolves with the times and your own experience and product), i know how to edit AND i know how to manage authors (whew). and yes, i also write sometimes. i may not be a millionaire yet, but i’m damn proud of what i’ve learned in just 3 years. if you want to live life on your terms entirely, i absolutely recommend it. just negotiate your overdraft before you do (or your overgale, as mine tends to be… get it? draught? gale?).

wow. so THIS is what it feels like to write… damn authors. i feel like an old peasant mamma with hair on her chin who recalls what it was like to fall in love… (meanwhile the old fart upstairs pisses into his bowl with G-force, like he’s climbed up on a chair to do it, oh to stifle him in his sleep).

To write! the creativity, the thrill, the rampant unchecked (but entirely private) hostility i start to feel when i write… Bliss!

there are times when all you have is the present moment, and it is bliss that you can ride it right past the eiffel tower and have the bd st germain open up to you in a series of whorish green lights. ah paris, ma belle salope! if i didn’t have you, i’d have nothing.

Here’s my contribution to the ‘repost’ facebook disease which I truly do not comprehend: except mine’s a true story…

when I was twelve and got to my London middle school, the first friend I made (beyond the two BFF girls who adopted me right away) was a boy… his name was Lee, he was new like me, sat next to me, he was cute, but wouldn’t look at me. then another boy farted. or so Lee and I thought. And just like that, as we looked at each other and giggled, our friendship was born. Repost if flatulence has changed your life in any deep and personal way… (sigh)

mayhem? chaos? destruction? massive theft? people’s businesses wrecked? short-sightedness that achieves nothing? sure, very ugly. except when it’s in someone else’s country, way over the rainbow, it’s a righteous, even heroic war. but when it’s in your own backyard, it’s an intolerable affront to all that is holy, civilized and acceptable to polite society. welcome to baghdad!