5 Reasons Why London Made Me Smile This Month Or Jack Kerouac Was Kind Of An Arsehole, Wasn’t He?

In which I discuss my motivations for writing, and ponder why a certain douche nozzle frat boy is considered a literary iconoclast, remarkable novelist and poet.* You know that feeling you get that’s like a surge of inspiration, an electric current pushing you forward and physically forcing you to bring a pen to paper, to write…Read more 5 Reasons Why London Made Me Smile This Month Or Jack Kerouac Was Kind Of An Arsehole, Wasn’t He?

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