What Went Wrong? Nothing And Everything.

I’m Not The Smartest Guy In The World, But I’m Certainly Not The Dumbest. I Mean, I’ve Read Books Like "the Unbearable Lightness Of Being" And "love In The Time Of Cholera", And I Think I’ve Understood Them. They’re About Girls, Right? Just Kidding. But I Have To Say My All-time Favorite Book Is Johnny Cash’s Autobiography "cash" By Johnny Cash.

But I Suspect That All Writers Come Up With Premises Of Some Kind, Fragments Of Narrative Or Scenarios, In The Course Of A Working Week.

The Plain State Of Being Human Is Dramatic Enough For Anyone; You Don't Need To Be A Heroin Addict Or A Performance Poet To Experience Extremity. You Just Have To Love Someone.

Between The Ages Of Fourteen And Twenty-four, Foreplay Changes From Being Something That Boys Want To Do And Girls Don't, To Something That Women Want And Men Can't Be Bothered With. ... The Perfect Match, If You Ask Me, Is Between The Cosmo Woman And The Fourteen-year Old Boy.

You Spend Christmas At Somebody's House, You Worry About Their Operations, You Give Them Hugs And Kisses And Flowers, You See Them In Their Dressing Gown...and Then Bang, That's It. Gone Forever. And Sooner Or Later There Will Be Another Mum, Another Christmas, More Varicose Veins. They're All The Same. Only The Addresses, And The Colors Of The Dressing Gown, Change.