We Don’t All Get Dessert

At age 11, I was smack-dab the middle of those years ramping up to manhood. This was a time when things dropped and other things grew and every hormone in my body was like an irate grocery store customer taking out their bad day on the…

Santa Shouldn’t Have Gave My Dad That Crossbow

The leather soles of his boots looked like the shadows of skyscrapers traced by a blood-red sky. I stood quivering in an unfamiliar panic as I gave his shoe an urgent nudge, then I punched his foot with elevated desperation, and with a final heave I…

In Search of Beardlightenment

November has come and gone with the same chart authority as a Asher Roth single, and just like that interesting, yet, momentary chart-topping white rapper, we feel a little cheated by the possibilities, and the woulda, coulda, shouda’s. The only difference was our hopes involved…

The Weekly Bump: Post-Thanksgiving Depression

I hear the hum of the tires – buzz of the wings – on my Monday morning drive after a long weekend in a more pronounced way. The slight bumps in the road rattle my struggling car. The creaks and groans of the chassis remind…

The Collective Hatred of Nickelback Saves Lives

John had been out in the frigid December wind all day, in the dirt, slaving for the scraps of his lost ambition. He’s alone most of his days at work – allowing for him he would take little sips of whiskey from a flask. Everyone…