HOTEL AMOUR

HOTEL AMOUR

I’m not sure how to frame this so I’ll just come out and say it. I suffer from F.O.S.T or Fear of Sex Toys.  Ever since gorgeous Gail (blue mascara, cherry pout, high as a kite from the night before) burst into my university bedroom early Sunday morning 33 years ago,...
OUT OF THE MOUTHS OF BABES

OUT OF THE MOUTHS OF BABES

OUT OF THE MOUTHS OF BABES On New Year’s Eve many moons ago I went to a cocktail party hosted by supreme beings. They had the right sofa, the right cushions, the right scented candle (Diptyque’s Tubéreuse if I recall) and the right shade of Bone on their sitting...