Tristan Hazell lives and works in the shadow of the Westway on Portobello Road. What follows is a collection of observations, reviews, social comment, fiction, poetry, art criticism and more. Much of it is fiction and some of it will offend someone somewhere, I hope.

Friday, September 28, 2012

Midge Ure gets a custard pie.

Or was it a Viennese whirl?

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