Dope Island: The Fiend's lament, short and bittersweet
Even at my career peak, I probably was nowhere near as prominent nor had the readership as this guy. Yet I think I had the same feeling of dread that any given female would gladly crush me under her stilettoes (or Doc Martens) if she could. Feelings that turned out well founded. Too much film-noir feeling in childhood? Or am I onto something about the working conditions. On the plus side, newspapers are dying out, so fewer fellows will be at risk.