John Graves – Our Vintner of Discontent

Most LUSSO readers are bon viveurs and sybarites to a man and lady. That much is obvious. You wouldn’t be reading now if you were some undiscerning peasant only interested in Jeremy Kyle reruns and the yellow sticker reduced to clear shelf at Lidl. However, we can’t all be Renaissance Men with total mastery over…
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Gordon’s Alive: LUSSO interviews Gordon Bijelonic

Gordon Bijelonic enters the room impressively, with what appears to be an entourage. Two well-dressed men, one impish and Danish, the other an imposing African-American, shake our hands and admire the Ebony Suite, which will serve as the setting for our interview. Gordon is already staying at the May Fair. LUSSO has just upgraded him…
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You Got the Mussel. I Got The Prawn.

Shorty suggested Sheekey’s because: a) he thought I’d get a hick-style kick out of them having a doorman; and b) he’s trying to get out of the Square Mile to spend his bonus so as not to draw attention to the latest seven-figure sum in his account. “I could sit in Sheekey’s in a SS…
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Dinner, Dinner, Dinner, Dinner, Fat Man!

“I realise that, Shorty, but where are we going?” “Dinner.” “I know what the evening meal’s called, Shorty, I sometimes have three. But where are we going?” I’ll spare y’all the rest of the conversation, just believe me when I say it went on for quite some time with Shorty chuckling like a hick who’s…
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Spy Girl – Expecting the Spanish Inquisition

The memo from HQ reads as follows: Olive stones. Very dubious involvement of suspect from Morocco. Go to La Bobadilla. Find out all you can. Sorely tempted to try out my new sedative dart gun on the outward flight full of frightful stags and hens, before I arrive in Malaga. The thought of someone with a…
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Simon Barnett: I Don’t Like Mondays

On a Monday January 29th 1979, Brenda Spencer, a 16-year-old San Diego high school student, took a rifle and opened fire on the elementary school opposite where she lived. She killed 2 adults (including the principal) and injured 9 kids before going back to her home. Police surrounded her house and before she finally gave…
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Grand Hotel Kempinski, Switzerland

Uncle Bernie would never buy anything German, Japanese or Swiss. The German thing was obvious (under duress, he would get in the Mercedes cabs lined up at Ben Gurion Airport, but not before crying, ‘to the Guilt-mobile, Robin!’). He tried to buy me a non-Japanese walkman for my birthday – the American-built shonky mini reel-to-reel…
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