Speed
I learned that part of being alive is screaming your heart out to something. Anything. That sometimes crying and listening to the Rent soundtrack is a good thing. A necessary thing. And, most of all, I learned that some of the best thinking is done on long, silent drives.
I Can Hear The Piano
Influence is in the wrong hands. The kids want more. They deserve better.
Exile In Her Guyville
I wanted to marry her and then die a week later so she’d write great songs about how I fucked like an experimental Viagra-fueled monkey
The Summer Of Bones
Punch yourself in the side of the head and join me in that moment.
Better For The Roads We Crossed
I learned that part of being alive is screaming your heart out to something. Anything. That sometimes crying and listening to the Rent soundtrack is a good thing. A necessary thing. And, most of all, I learned that some of the best thinking is done on long, silent drives.
Porsche: The Speed Of Belief
I was shell-shocked enough from seeing Magnus’s collection of P-cars online, and now I am standing in his incredible goth-rock palace with a bunch of Porsche execs.
Stranger Things & Summer Nights
“You’re gonna enjoy it, I’m sure. It’s so Stephen King-ish,” he said to me during one of our summer chitchats. The book fell into oblivion then, mostly because we were too busy making out.
Raul From Brazil
I hadn’t been into motorcycles before I came to Israel, to the Kibbutz Maayan Zvi, just south of Haifa. But my deep feelings for Raul included the bike as well, because it was a part of him.
Cape Town Heroes
Bailey’s driving like a maniac while I sit in the back, smoking a cigarette, ecstatic. Engines rev, lights flash, tires squeal — suddenly your life and a movie converge.
You Never Saw A Taste Like This
I was in 2nd grade when Crystal Pepsi came out. I loved the stuff. Like Pogs and the O.J. Simpson trial, clear cola was an icon of its time.
Jim Rockford Never Drove An Alfa
You don’t just jump in a car and magically know how to drive it. You have to practice at the limit to know the limit.
Living In Love In The Year Of The Tiger
The soft, thick leather of the steering wheel begged for a gentle touch; the engine's natural rumble was backed up by Audi's turbocharged powerplant; and the 505-watt Bang & Olufsen sound system bumped harder than anyone would ever need.
Don’t Feed The Monkeys
As the whacka-whacka guitar intro of Van Halen’s “Atomic Punk” fills my head, I pick up the pace and David Lee Roth’s shriek segues into Led Zeppelin’s strutting “Black Dog.”
Don't Shoot Chopin
In the mirror, I’m a barely recognizable 98 pounds — “Olsen-twin chic” as I call it. But there’s nothing chic about this at all. I’ve been self-destructive, chasing pretenses of glamour — and for what? I’m disgusted with myself.
The Crown On 53
He pleads with God for answers — something to ease Charlotte’s suffering. His fingers drum nervously on the wheel as he pulls up to the church. He sits for a minute. Finally, he kills the engine.
Everybar, USA
I need more than just a drink, I need a pick-me-up, a familiar taste. After all, the pineapple is the symbol of hospitality. Why not order Stiggins’ and hope for the best?
Love For Fifty Bucks
Maybe that’s where I belonged after all. Oh, how this journey had fallen apart. A night that had once sparkled, and now, here I was, sliding into the backseat of a squad car.
My Green Bible Study
One morning I was slumped over my oatmeal, barely awake after another night of tossing and turning. Maggie brought up medical marijuana.
Pinky Rings & Chevys
There are a few of us having a fancy meal and drinking a douchey French rosé called Ruse le Douche, talking about how dissecting comedy is awful. It’s the show’s host, the playwright, my girlfriend, and myself. I should have gotten more stoned.