“While you swallow bleached pasta, consider how close you are to death.”
As the Art World descends on Venice’s canals for the 60th Biennale, Spike’s hedonist columnist dishes out the best way to get drunk between bridges and where to eat like Hemingway.
Does all the leather on LA corners mean rockstars are in again? A recovering sex columnist on straight men dressing gay and the groupie as style’s new muse.
From fake-masturbating above Tito’s motorcade to republishing her mother’s poems, a retrospective in Vienna brings together a half-century of irreverent polymathy.
Set amid early 2000s punk and aching intensely with bad choices and deep longing, the novel is a needle-sharp portrait of a young woman and how far she’ll go to find acceptance.
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