No relations since June so it’s no wonder my massive morning wood won’t fit through the bedroom door. Being a man of principle is not always easy and sometimes quite stupid, especially in light of chronic physical pain and a history of trauma – life is short-lived, death arbitrary, particularly round these parts (that East Village ‘splosion singed both eyebrows and visage).

Think beach, baby boy, and not Rockaway or Jones, but the real ones far away but so close, where you can still see your size 14s two feet in the water, and mermaids just offshore.