Yoz Grahame

It must have been in September of… ‘53? ‘54? Having blown most of my accounts at the casino, I wandered along the Boulevard Louis II, despondent. Suddenly my gaze was captured by a figure silhouetted against the water, her long blonde tresses waving, beckoning me. Moonlight curved sensuously over her red satin dress, the long skirt billowing, affording me thrilling glances of her ankles. She turned to me and smiled, her hand firm on the collar of the ocelot by her side.

She sucked at blackjack too. Damn.

... was when he married me .

It was at a book signing in Portland, Oregon in 2000. I sent McSweeney’s an email about it which you can read somewhere here.

In 1996 I drove Matt to a Yahoo! blag in London in my blue Honda Civic. Well, I say “in” – I was in the Honda Civic. He was standing on the roof.

He very kindly gave me a lift home from MashupCamp, putting up with me rambling incessantly most of the way.

He has one of the best devlish grins you’ll ever see.

Ask him about Angelo Zgorelec.

He’s a big happy grinning bloke, and he seems to know everyone.

Quinn dragged me into his office at the EFF, I think.