Oct 13
Iron Maiden’s Gonna Git Ya It was me, my three brothers, Pete, Steve and Alex, and my son who’d recently gladdened my liberal heart by adopting the urban moniker, Laz-E-Jay, all the male Koweskis left alive gathered on the grassy slope of Credit One amphitheater, what will always be known as Tinley Park to me, …
Sep 29
Scream for Me, Chicago! “S’up, asshole, whatcha doing September 22nd?” My brother, Steve, never calls me the Polish Hammer because he calls himself the Polish Hammer. He calls me “asshole” since that’s what our mother called me. It’s the same reason I always call Steve “asshole.” I’m certainly not going to call him the Polish …
Sep 22
Out on the Streets of Hammond I’m fifty-one years old, staring down the barrel of fifty-two, and I still have no fucking idea what I wanna be when I grow up. I remember coming close to deciding about ten years ago when I was slinging funny books at The Deep. Life was good. Stress free. …
Sep 15
Collecting Collectors So, I had my book launch for Mister Joe’s Pirates last Saturday at the Seidr Brewery in beautiful downtown Arab, Alabama. Seidr boasts a Norse mythology theme, which is to say all the drinks are named after Viking shit and the bartenders are forced to cultivate aggressive facial hair. It’s not talked about …
Sep 08
The Great Funeral Home Candy Bar Heist 1. “I’m telling you guys, last Halloween me and my cousin trick-or-treated Dombrowski Funereal Home and they were giving away full-sized Snicker bars,” Skiba said. Brian didn’t buy it. He’d come to a point in their friendship where he doubted every word spouted from Skiba’s lips. In the …
Sep 01
They Control Your Image We were called to the middle of the plant for an impromptu meeting. I was afraid it was going to devolve into another lecture on bathroom breaks. Management hates it when anybody poops on the clock. Despite there being more video surveillance cameras than a PornHub taxi trained on the bathroom …
Aug 28
Mister Joe’s Pirates by Karl Koweski (Roadside Press) Karl Koweski’s Mister Joe’s Pirates is an unapologetically profane, funny, and unexpectedly heartfelt novel that finds surprising humanity in the fading industrial landscape of Northwest Indiana. At first glance, it appears to be a crude comedy about washed-up barflies coaching a hopeless Little League team. By the …
Aug 25
Chaos to the Fly 4 (the finale) 5. “I wouldn’t mind getting the Polish flag tattooed on my arm,” Vic allowed. “It’d give me something to point at if I’m ever caught out doing something stupid. Or maybe a Polish warbird, you know. Something that’ll warn a fella they’re messing with at least a third-generation …
Aug 18
Chaos to the Fly 3 3. “Why is it, every game, every practice, feels like I just walked out of the Twilight Zone?” Brian asked. “I didn’t think it was too bad,” Wesley said. “Learn something, didja?” Milsap and Brian exchanged uneasy glances. They’d agreed beforehand not to include Wesley in any discussions concerning the …
Aug 11
Chaos to the Fly 2 2. Nine o’clock in the morning, Coach Vic and Coach Pete showed up for practice dead drunk and immediately began cracking open pony boy bottles of Little King Ale. “You gotta be kidding me,” Brian said. “It’s nine o’clock in the morning, and they’re already bombed out of their …
