It’s two thirty in the morning when you write off the second rented Ferrari. You leave it wrapped around a lamppost somewhere in East London and pay a passing teenage drug courier five hundred quid to lend you his BMX. By the time you reach your mistress's flat forty minutes later, the ketamine is already … Continue reading The Greatest Breakfast in the World →

...that one of my photographs accidentally won second prize in a Granta Magazine photography competition. I won't let it change me, honest.