Category Archives: PARIS

SKIN COLD AS ICE by Peter Nolan Smith

When Lou Reed died three years ago, a friend called to ask, if I had known the singer. I said, “No.” El-Roy was a pussy hound and asked if I thought Nico was a good fuck. “I don’t know,” I replied and hung up thinking one thing. The Velvet Underground’s singer was probably great in […]

GHOULS OF PERE LA CHAISE by Peter Nolan Smith

The 1980s are thirty years in the past and when I tell stories, the listeners suspect that I’m lying about jumping off the Quincy Quarries cliffs or nearly making love with Darryl Hannah in Jamaica or watching bears eat garbage at a dump in Maine. Sometimes I wonder if they are right, but my memory […]

HERMAPHRODITE by Peter Nolan Smith

Back in the early 80s the Louvre belonged to art historians and lovers of the finer things in life. Few common people visited the former Bourbon palace and once a week I wandered the museum’s dusty corridor without any disturbance to my admiration of its vast collection. At that time I was le psychionomiste of […]

Willie DeVille 1986

One night in 1986 Willie DeVille came to the Royal Lieu with Jorgen Osterloh, Aurora Clemente, and Dean Tavourlos. Willie was with his wife. We knew each other from CBGBs. He gave me a line of smack. Willie was good for that. It was brown. Jorgen said he was going back to his apartment in […]

Bullet Holes A Les Bains-Douches

The entrance to Les Bains-Douches was at the top of stone stairs on Rue Le Bourg l’Abbe. Heavy wooden doors contained thick glass provided protection for the clientele and our security force or Blck Jack, Mark, and me, the physionomiste ie doorman. Every night hundreds of Parisiennes and foreigners stood on the sidewalk waiting for […]