Yes, of course I’m still writing but I haven’t had much time to put anything online lately. I’m gaining momentum for a new book I started. It will be a story about a personal trainer much like myself but of course everything I write about will be fictional…

I'm going to the beach. I think I'll have a few beers. I think I'll jump in the ocean late at night with all my clothes on and watch my wallet wash up ont he shore...nah, that's been done before...

An open letter to the little cocksucker that was riding my ass in the Nissan Pathfinder last night: Listen you fucking little prick, when you drive so closely that I can’t see your headlights you are putting me in danger. I could give a good Goddamn if you drive yourself off a cliff or run into a boulder but when you start fucking with my well-being then I get pissed. So, I went 25 miles per hour in a 45 zone. It pissed you off didn’t it? Your second mistake was when you pulled up to the stop light and gave me the finger. You realized you made a mistake when you saw my eyes get big. I’ve never seen anyone drive so fast in all my life. Word to the wise: Don’t come anywhere near where you saw me last. I wrote down your license plate number and I’m waiting to find you and beat the shit out of you.

What would you do if you had a second chance? Ask yourself what is really important...

With the fool moon staring me in my one good eye I plucked stars from the sky and placed them on my dashboard. In time the inside of my car melted away with the light and soon my retinas gave way to dust. What was left of me blew in a gust of wind to the ocean where the salty water inflated my microscopic dehydrated parts. I was reborn and floated in a sea of krill—pieces of me thinking of you—when a great baleen whale filtered me through. I was digested and pieced together by a troll that lived behind the whale's spleen. The whale later spit up a new me on a beach where you lay nude sunbathing—breasts falling over your ribs. I tore off my seaweed Speedo and we fucked. When we were done I held you and I shivered. You asked why and I said because I wasn't angry anymore, that I knew what was important. The anger had kept me warm but it had kept me from you...

Why are people such weasels?