Is It My Face?

I’ve been on a mini-vacation from work for the past five days, and for me that’s meant staying in and getting other work done—housework, writing, social media, etc. But I got a call at around 7:30 on Friday night from a friend who was at the Waffle House with her girlfriend eating dinner. She asked me to join them, so I told her to order me a waffle with half a cup of coffee and that I’d be there in five. We were just shooting the shit, as you do at the Waffle House, talking about books, and at one […] Read More

Love Doesn’t Live Here Anymore

I noticed that I created a tag for my blog posts called “love,” and when I noticed it I wondered why I had done such a thing. All things considered, I mean, vis à vis love and me, it seemed a little…weird, to say the very least. So imagine my relief when I saw that there were only two posts tagged with the word “love.” One was a post about the mutual birthdays of Steve Martin, Gary Larson, and Wim Wenders. The other was about an aquarium fish named Diane that I had a brief flirtation with before she was […] Read More

No Insurance Against Happy Accidents

The day almost ended without my posting on The Blog. And let me tell you, it was not because I’ve been sitting around eating chocolate truffles, watching college football, and reading movie magazines. No. I’ve been up since 6:30 working on building my publishing/media empire. Adding pages to my website. Creating more promotional materials for all the books and stories I’ve written throughout my adulthood that I cannot even give away at this juncture. I really don’t know why I keep flogging this dead fish. Please stop asking me. Anyway. Last evening I was watching some animated shorts based on […] Read More

Reading in 2018: Sad!

Last year I set a goal via Good Reads: I would read 45 books between January and December. In keeping with what we will just call “the story of my life,” I failed to read 45 books – but I did manage to read 38 books.

What Am I Doing?

I’m just writing a blog post to let you know that I won’t be writing a blog post tonight. It’s all too much right now. Sometimes it is always all too much. But I have promises to keep. And shit to do before I sleep. Also, this: “[I]f I wasn’t getting paid, and I wasn’t having fun, what was I doing?” – Donald Antrim, on writing

Huge News!

What really, really upset me about this experience was realizing the show was being aired on the A&E network. I mean, A&E used to be a network that showcased ARTS & ENTERTAINMENT – entertainment that was really more arts-related than cop-related.

The Adding Machine Post

Suffice to say, the Burroughs family of St. Louis had a lot of money. It was this money that afforded William Seward Burroughs II a spot at Harvard, from which he graduated in 1936, as well as the freedom to pursue writing and shooting up heroin and sex-seeking holidays in Tangier. This money, with what he made as reporter, also financed a fateful stint in Mexico City.

The Bloomsbury Memories Post

It’s a long story that doesn’t bear repeating here on my blog, but I dug out an old, OOOLLLLD piece of writing last week because I think I finally found the perfect person to share it with. So I took this collection of paper pages and retyped the whole thing into a Word document. As I explained to the person who might appreciate it more than anyone else in my past or current life, this piece of writing is so old that I sent it to the New Yorker magazine via snail mail and received my rejection via snail mail […] Read More

Prelude to Bloomsbury Memories Post

I crawled into my bed a little early last night – not to sleep, but to read under the covers with Chrissy at the foot of the bed, and all right with the world. As I lay there, I kept letting the thought flit through my mind that I needed to get up and write a blog post. I knew what I was going to write and everything, and I kept thinking about it. Somewhere along the way, that thought stopped flitting, circling a few times and settling down with its tail wrapped around its body just like Chrissy. It […] Read More

Sorry. I Gotta Go Blog.

Add to all that the fact that I just sent a message on FB to a friend of mine which said: “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I feel like I’m inside a goddamn wiffle ball filled with jingle bells half the time.”

Ghostbangers?

Now. I ask you: why are these women going from men directly to water creatures and spirits without even trying out having sex with other human women? Believe me, it’s not just a ghost who could make a woman say, “It was very strange, but the sex was amazing!”