Jean Simmons

I woke up in a damned hard bed this morning, one surrounded by yellow plaster walls and dirty green-checked carpeting, the hotel room AC still rattling a vague metallic staccato that had kept me awake for most of the night. Rolling out from under the covers, I wandered off to the toilet, flipping on the TV set along the way. As I stood leaning with one hand against the far wall and watching last night’s beer and Long Island Iced Tea arc into the bowl, I heard Charles Osgood …Read the Rest