When I was 33, my father gave me his shotgun. He was recklessly unconcerned about the consequences of giving his most incompetent offspring a firearm. I thought I should use it. So I headed out to someone’s unused farmland to shoot birds with three Chicago detectives. Continue reading
MonthOctober 2014
Apparently, the last functioning remnant of my masculinity has been deemed a threat and is now being slated for destruction. Continue reading
This post is a treat from Past Jeff. I was looking through old files and found something Past Jeff wrote just for me. Oh Past Jeff, what zany thoughts do you have for us today?? Continue reading
Friends, feel free to stop right here. Because there’s only an “um” and an “or” separating humor from horror (ok, so there are two R’s in horror–the whole thing only really works when you say it aloud–but that’s really getting way off track here. JUST CALM THE HELL DOWN). However, this is America, and you have every right to read this post and decide which this is all on your own. Or don’t. Or really don’t.
On June 1st 2006. my dad lost his very one-sided battle with pulmonary fibrosis. Before he died, and since, I’ve been trying to capture my feelings in fiction. I found this short bit looking through old files. Very little of it is fiction.
Jill and I weren’t always a couple. In fact, before 1997 we didn’t even know the other existed. As in, alive. Crazy, I know. But true. Continue reading
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