Adieu, Groucho Club
An establishment where my heart and my lighter were stolen.
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Nicholas Lezard
Nicholas Lezard writes the Down and Out column for the New Statesman.
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Waitrose is a big part of my life
Here I am, writing about my shopping again: eat your heart out, Adrian Chiles.
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Another week, another encounter with the long arm of the law
Despite my best efforts, it seems my council tax bill has come a-knocking.
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Confronting the achingly cool with an aching heart – and aching gums
My eldest child has summoned my mouth infection and I to Brighton.
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My four years in Wittgensteinian austerity
As another anniversary in the Hove-l goes by, I realise I’m happy enough.
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Severely provoked, I retain my chastity with bittersweet regret
Experience has taught me that the best way to behave when being shouted at by a woman is to…
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In an effort to see off the bailiffs, I am open to article suggestions
A reader’s letter about me reviewing Waitrose wine is amusing, but I wonder if he is being a little…
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A severe case of Trump-Harris-debate-itis
I had visions of a ruptured blood vessel and my vital fluids gushing all over Boots’ terrified customers…
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Listening to Debussy at thrash metal volume
One shouldn’t use a fork to scoop ear wax out, but I was getting frantic.
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