“I want you all to STAND UP! Greet the person next to you and say, “HELLO, MY NAME IS BLANK, AND I AM A WRITER!” This was years ago, at a literary convention. I was five months into an excruciating pregnancy, my brain swamped in chemicals that caused it to hear hungry tiger roars and…
. I loved it. I hated it. It felt sick there and so special too. Like Nigger Ben Butte, all wrong, distasteful even, but sickly compelling in its defiance.
“Oh…crap. I was really hoping for Roman gold hoards. Not children frozen for eternity in terror clutching at their dead mothers’ throats.”
I’ve turned in nine chapters of my book in under three months, maybe about four more to go. The book is funny. I am funny. Underwear and toilets are funny. It all comes together. I have friends who are disppointed in how I’ve chosen to use my way with words. People who think humor…
The relationship budding between me and my accountant bares similarities to that between my beloved Pam, and her own very talented accountant, Cyril. Let’s watch, shall we? Once again I sit in Mike the CPA’s office to talk about why I should have to pay taxes on the art and information I offer the…
I was right. It took about a week for the baffle-coma to wear off. Or maybe it was two weeks. I don’t know actually – time doesn’t penetrate a coma state. I counted time in congratulations and people’s praise of me. And in the rare backhanded, seething compliment. But since I’ve stopped desiring to tell…
Every other writer I know works a hell of a lot harder than my lazy ass and if you judge by effort, I do not deserve what I’ve garnered in my 2 and a half year career. The other night I got to talk on late night radio about a little listicle…
Sibling Day. So that’s a thing is it? Well, here is what I have to say about that. I still don’t know what I did. I thought everything was fine. Mom died, leaving us full grown orphans. We buried her together, next to our father, each of us shouldering some burden of not being anyone’s…
I had my birthday, and my friends left me long wonderful messages both on my Facebook wall and in private. And I noticed something. After sooo many of the messages, there would be another typed below it quickly. *meant “their” not there *my autocorrect is awful, sorry *forgive my spelling I make money by…
I’m always so surprised to find out everything isn’t exactly like I thought it was. The things I take for granted could fill an ocean, a vast and fearful one. I wrote this in tribute to a lifetime of tunnel vision and missteps. You Were Oblivious You were born on a big flat rock on…
You're Doing It Wrong 