Nothing feels better than being right. Even if you win a bet on which day you’ll die, at least there’ll be a sense of accomplishment to mitigate the pain. Unfortunately, I’m usually wrong and my soon-to-be-married-person absolutely loves repeating her catchphrase “god you’re such an idiot” with feverish consistency. I might not ever remember where I left my keys, if I closed the refrigerator door, or what I was supposed to get at the grocery store, but I found at least one thing I can write into the “win” column: Getting one of those fancy new digital assistants is akin to inviting Big Brother into your sanctuary.
Tuesday, December 27, 2016
Thursday, May 12, 2016
Budweiser is the kind of beer you drink when you don’t want to impress someone, or you just got dumped and need to take eighty cans to the head on the cheap, or you have off on a Tuesday and you’ve already been to the grocery store and finished the laundry and it’s 11:30 in the morning. It’s there, it’s acceptable, and it quiets the voices for a few hours. But this summer, Anheuser-Busch will try to climb up another wrung of the social ladder from “something to puke out” to “the imbibeable embodiment of the entire fucking country.”
That’s right. The Budweiser label will be usurped by an even more recognizable name: America
Saturday, February 28, 2015
Friday, February 20, 2015
Wednesday, February 18, 2015
The fine people at The Oddville Press have done me the favor of including my story, “Ashes” in their fourth issue. You can download the whole deal for free right here. It’s only kinda depressing. You’ve got ten minutes. Just look at it. C’mon. You’re already on the internet.
Thursday, December 25, 2014
Happy Christmas everybody. The fine folks at Roadside Fiction have given me the great honor of including my story “Pennies” in an issue that has been posted today. Feel free to follow this link right here and check it out. It’s free, it’s fun, it’s a way to escape the in-laws for a hot minute so why the hell not, eh?
Saturday, December 13, 2014
One day about eight years ago while walking down the sidewalk, I decided to start believing in magic, astrology, and all the things that can’t be explained with rational discourse. I figured it would make life more exciting to believe the dude with the top hat actually just sawed his arm off, or the full moon would make people go crazy, or that the person who cut me off will soon drive into a reservoir and be punished for his behavior. However, I soon talked myself out of it because I am apparently not programmed to believe in anything I can’t touch, smell, or lick. And that’s pretty much how my life has been, just walking around and calling bullshit on everything people say. But today I decided to take a step back from that and put that nagging voice in the back of my mind that says at all times “this is fucking stupid this is fucking stupid” on hold, and go see a psychic.
Saturday, November 22, 2014
About 8 years ago, I was convinced to sit outside a Best Buy on Thanksgiving night to wait in line for when the store opened before dawn. We set up a tent along the side of the building and drank beers. Friends popped in and out to have a couple beers before going about their night. We peed in between cars. It was fun. And when the doors finally opened I found a tub of Seinfeld DVDs and called it a day. This is my only Black Friday experience.
Since then, I’ve realized that even showing up to get a few cheap DVDs is contributing to the monster that has taken hold of our country. Thanksgiving has been eclipsed by sales starting earlier and earlier to the point where people look forward to the holiday not because they want to drink booze with their family at noon and watch football, but because they want to hammer out some Christmas shopping and possibly trample a couple people in the process. And I, for one, think that is really fucked up.
Monday, November 3, 2014
I love riding my bike. It’s probably the closest a person can come to flying without the risk of becoming a giant Spaghettio splatter-stain on the ground. The tires glide over the pavement and your direction is shifted by slight angle differentiations like a bird floating on the breeze. It’s beautiful. You get to see the city without sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic and, best of all, you get to get the shit knocked out of you by passing cars.
Sunday, September 14, 2014
You never really want to be the guy that people talk about the next day in the manner of, “Jesus Christ, did you see the guy…” and then filling in a story of maniacal shouting. Throughout the majority of my life, I’ve done a good job of avoiding this. I like to think of myself as a mostly mild-mannered fella but unfortunately, you can’t be surrounded by brain dead breathing zombies that go through their days oblivious to the fact that they are living in a society with other human beings without blowing your stack every once in a while. For your consideration, I’ve compiled a few recent examples of instances such as this and maybe we can work our way through them and find out who’s crazy: Me, or everybody else in the whole world. I think it’s obviously everybody else but hey, I’ve been wrong once or twice before (but not for a very, very long time).