I am a night owl. Well, not literally. I don’t have wings, live in a tree and swivel my head around 270 degrees.
If I had a dollar for every time I heard someone say they don't need therapy, I'd have about $12 and then I'd have to lose some of that in commission, exchanging it for pound sterling.
It was a warm, summer night in 1995. My friend and I had found a large, soggy paper bag of magic mushrooms in the back of a camper van off a suburban road in North London.
I got married in England in 2011. As a belated honeymoon, we travelled together across the United States in 2012. We ended up divorcing in 2015. All of these events are interconnected.
If I could be bothered to research and then draw up a pie chart of what made up web content, the largest piece of the pie would be porn. Of course it would.