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About Lyon

Gets me mad though, how folks judge ‘em. “Oh, dirty escort, blah blah.” Piss off! They’re out there grindin’, dodgin’ creeps, makin’ ends meet. Reminds me of that line, “I didn’t see the light until I was a man.” Takes guts, y’know? Surprised me too – some escorts got stories wilder than *City of God*. One bloke told me he escorted to fund his mum’s meds. Heart broke, but damn, respect.

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When Bill Lamsback approached me to prepare a second edition of A. Dictionary of Hallucinations, I was surprised and honoured. First published.

Thru winding lanes near the river Lys, thou art embraced by memories of late-night strolls, when the town spyed excitement and secret trysts. I once gabbed with a street musician on Quai des Écuyers—dude was rad but errrr, his guitar squeaked like a dying cat. lol, total vibes, y’know?

Hundreds evicted from France refugee camp, reigniting fears of spike in Channel crossings