Welcome to Mike's Place, the world's first virtual bar. The disreputable dive for trenchcoat troublemakers, the louche lounge for leisurely losers. The sour speakeasy for the down-at-heel where good guys get killed for their watches and everybody knows your alias.
Superheroes, death and Frances. September 16th 2001
Happenstance and Kismet. August 9th 2001
Play it Again, Shy Steve. 22nd July 2001
What makes you tick, toots? June 23rd 2001
Einstein, God and injured nieces.
Whatever happened to Neville Braithwaite?
Edinburgh's Pot Laureate has a word.
Ah go on then. Fuck off out of it.
Want to get your face known around here? Talk to your barman. Problems solved, mysteries unravelled, advice on matters of the heart a speciality. Go on, lean on the bar. Whisper in my ear. Leave your email address and we'll let you know when the bar is redecorated or any new rumours start flying around.
Go on, pester a busy barman. You fucking cunt.
Down these mean streets a man must go who himself is not mean, who is neither tarnished nor afraid.
The simple Art of Murder, Raymond Chandler.
Try not to be so consumed with the future.
Leaving Las Vegas, John O'Brien.
You're customer 
and you don't get a prize.