Apr 07
Back to Fighting Ninjas Again When I think about myself, as a mildly neurotic, self-obsessed, self-analytical writer of confessional poems and columns sometimes must, and I think of all the amazing feats I’ve accomplished even though I was born without hair, my mind becomes a carnival, a lovefest, a celebration of all things Polish Hammer. …
Mar 31
One Flew Over the Chicken Coop The world is slam dancing on the edge of the mosh pit of mass insanity, my friends. Maybe Iran is an inferno of burning oil fields. Maybe Israel is a smoking crater. Who the fuck knows, and who can you trust to tell you? I can say with certainty …
Mar 24
A Legacy of Rabbit Chasing I’ve always been fond of telling my co-workers “If you stand by the river long enough, the bodies of your enemies will float on by.” Apparently, it’s an unattributable idiom. I suppose you could point to Sun Tzu or Confucius if you absolutely must take your crackerjack philosophy from the …
Mar 17
A Man Called “Tellahoe” I hate to think the majority of people are born to lose. And I’m not inclined to debate the nature versus nurture narrative except to say I doubt anyone’s ever been pulled from the womb screaming racial epithets, wearing a MAGA hat. And it’s not my intention to get political in …
Mar 10
Some People Say I Was Anointed By Christ to Write Columns Milt settles into his catnapper, grabs the remote and flicks on the five o’clock news. “All right, let’s see what the mad man’s up to, now.” He’s referring to the Tangerine Lunatic, of course. A man he’s voted for three times, and he’ll vote …
Mar 03
The Bathroom Habits of the Desperate Rabble Bippy the supervising clown approaches at a fast walk, a stunt-legged trot, really, the pace he uses when he tries to catch me jotting insults into my Moleskine notebook which is crazy, of course, since I make no attempt to hide my literary aspirations on the clock. He …
Feb 24
A Tale of Two Bobbies I’ve seen a lot of stupid shit during my fifty-one year stay on this jackass planet. A friend of mine, his grown ass son tried to siphon gas out of a hearse one night. He decided to flick his Zippo so he could see how much progress he was making, …
Feb 17
The Ballad of Bippy the Clown Sometimes when you write a weekly column for an online literary zine, you just have to vent to your imagined readership about the shit that especially pisses you off. Here in the land of Hydra Hydraulics, it’s been a steady stream of sixty plus hour work weeks since …
Feb 10
Early Morning Smoke Alarm Sunday morning, my wife wakes up and stares at the bedroom ceiling for twenty minutes. This sort of behavior never bodes well for me. Twenty minutes of deep thought is usually followed by the sort of pronouncements that can ruin a man’s day. Examples range from “you spend entirely too much …
Feb 03
In the Summer of Short Pants and Flannel So, here’s a story. This one goes way back, thirty plus years, back in the summer of short pants and flannel when I was beginning to dig what the boys from Seattle were laying down but couldn’t quite turn loose of Skid Row, Queensryche and Saigon Kick. …
