Category: Various

It’s morning here. I don’t know the exact time because I don’t know exactly where I am on the globe. I don’t know what time it is where I live either, but my intuition tells me my son is getting ready for bed, somewhere between 10 hours and a full calendar day behind. Far enough behind at least that, when I go home, I’ll technically arrive before I even leave. I can never really figure out the time thing, so as far as I’m concerned it’s just today, now.

I’m writing this from a reclined

You’re in a movie theater.

You’ve long awaited this day. You’ve watched every trailer, you’ve researched the entire cast, you even read the book. At one point it seemed like a lifetime away, and now you’re here. You’ve already traded your right arm for admission and you’ve settled into your seat with your butter-drenched cancercorn and the booze you managed to sneak in. Your stomach tightens as the lights dim and the screen goes white. It’s starting now. The only problem is, you’re not watching the movie. You’re looking at

One of the staff members at my son’s elementary school was very rude to him and I this morning. I’m actively trying to control my temper, especially in front of him, so rather than acting out of emotion, I resorted to going home and writing her a nice email. I’ve decided to withhold her name, so in this entry she will be appropriately referred to as Mrs. Dumkhunt.

Dear Mrs. Dumkhunt,

Let me first say that I hope this letter finds you in high

I’ve collected books for as long as I can remember. It started with Curious George and graduated to Goosebumps before snowballing into books on hip hop, biographies of gangsters and cultural figures, politics, history, art and wherever my weekly obsessions led me. But my personal library has recently reached a whole new level of pretentiousness. I often brag to a friend that his own assortment will never out-snob mine. I can’t, however, fully take credit for the magnitude of my current collection.

I started working at a small bookstore in the summer of ’05. While to

Truthfully? I think everyone should ingest marijuana at least once in their lifetime, if for no other reason than the root beer float. Have you ever had a root beer float while high on marijuana? Soda and ice cream, together, at the same time? It’s almost too much. Your sensory receptors aren’t built to withstand such an experience. Your neocortex starts flashing red lights as sirens blare and alarms sound off. That’s some shit evolution never intended to let exist. We made that, and it’s gotten to the point where I won’t even eat ice cream sober. Now, this mig

Whoa. I’ve already broken soil on another blog entry and it hasn’t even been an entire year since my last. Perhaps my stars are aligning. Or perhaps I’m just beginning to give less of a shit about my other endeavors and real responsibilities. Either way:

My family and I were having breakfast at my son’s favorite diner a quick fifteen-minute-or-so bike ride from our home. It being his favorite has little to do with the food since he generally eats one of the same three things at every restaurant on the planet, and more to do with the fact that it’s connec

I’ve wanted to start writing again for nearly a year now but always wind up distracted with one of the many other things I think I enjoy doing, all of which I dabble in just enough to declare myself a practitioner. But this seems as good an opportunity as any being as how I can barely walk – or even stand up – and I find Game of Thrones about as entertaining as a bath tub of horse shit.

Six days ago, I threw my back out attempting to pick up a large amount of nothing at all. It was a small pile of dead leaves. A handful, actually. I basically bent over twenty-seven