I want to make a truce with the snow and ice. The terms of the agreement will be as such:

1. Snow and Ice may only come during the work week to optimize days off work. 2. Snow and Ice must vacate said state (in this case Pennsylvania) by no later than February 28^th 3. Snow and Ice will coax mother nature to hasten the golf season to begin in March and I will not shovel or salt either in the month of February 4. If snow and Ice terminate any portion of this contract they will cease to exist until further notice…

This guy’s nose is all bashed in. Some roided up dude smashed him a good. I’m sure they were both being assholes. Alcohol does this to people...actually, it makes assholes bigger assholes.

I say to him, “You can’t come back in. You fight and you’re out.”

He tries to push past me. I put my hands out and stop him.

“I know, I know, you don’t care,” he says. He’s drunk, way too drunk to be out in public.

“Caring has nothing to do with it,” I say, “I don’t want you bleeding on me.”

I go back inside and the door shuts behind me.

I've been neglecting the old blog as of late. There are several reasons for the drop off in posts. I've been working on and just completed another Burma Ludlow story which I'm going to submitt for publication. I'm also developing a book with him as the lead character. There's also the matter of me studying for the second part of my CSCS certification. I can't wait until that is over...

I have a story up on the online magazine Thug Lit. It is issue 11. Check it out when you have time.

Dan and Luch - Montego Bay, Jamaica

I'm back...not that you care...I'm just saying...

I’m leaving for Jamaica Friday…uh mon…so, I won’t be around for a while. I’ll drink a Red Stripe for you or maybe two or three or four…

I turned around and saw Trevor holding a guy up in the air by the lapels of his coat. “Open the door,” he cried. I shoved the door open and Trevor tried to push the guy through the doors but he grabbed onto the door handle on his way out and clung to it for dear life. I got behind Trevor. “Why are you throwing me out?” the guy said. “There’s a cop behind you,” I said. “You’d better leave now.” The guy let go of the door and turned around to see no one. We closed the doors behind him. I later learned one of the bouncers asked him to leave for acting like an ass and he said, “You make me leave.” Uhm, okay? If people knew how dumb they looked when they drank they would be very embarrassed. Then again maybe they just don’t care…

Your eyes are golden like the name tag on the tabby cat I hit with my car this morning. I didn’t mean to hit it but I did and I want you to know that because well, I like you. It’s true I don’t like cats but that has nothing to do with me hitting the cat, I can assure you. What do you say you and I grab a bite to eat? Chinese? Sorry, bad joke.

It is 52 degrees in Harrisburg with a nice stiff breeze blowing. Why was the mailman wearing shorts? Some people just can’t let go of summer…

Shoot Away

The intangible assets will be divided according to brain function; those with more developed frontal lobes will be rewarded accordingly. Those who neither ponder nor dream nor realize nor regret will be left in Montana. The entire state will be fenced off and there will be no chance for escape. Each individual left in Montana will be given their choice of a sidearm and rifle and all the ammo they can carry or pull in a stolen shopping cart. When the referee blows his whistle the shooting will begin. Each individual will have the right to defend him or herself against their own kind. Let the fun begin…

Brats

I was reading an article by Frank DeFord on SI.com about the fact that many schools have banned TAG! Yes, they claim it is dangerous and demeaning. Gee, what would happen if someone scraped a knee? Worse yet the article points out what if someone was “IT”! Can you imagine the stigma of being “IT”? We are raising the biggest bunch of pansies in history in this country. It’s no wonder kids are fat and out of shape since they’re not allowed to do anything anymore. Well, I take that back. Evidently they do get stuck inside those crane machines in arcades that you try to snag a stuffed animal with. I read an article about another kid climbing up into one of these machines because he wanted a Spongehead Bob doll. The mother said, “He’s a character.” He’s not a character he’s a fucking brat. If I would have gotten myself stuck like this as a child I would have gotten my ass smacked and rightly so. Let me take that back I would have NEVER had the audacity to climb into a machine to steal a stuffed animal. The article went on to show many other pictures of kids stuck in these machines across the country. Do people really think this is cute? Earth to bad parents, it’s not fucking cute, your child is an
undisciplined brat. I have an idea. Why don’t we stick broccoli in these machines? If the kids can’t pick up the broccoli it falls out onto a plate and they have to eat it effectively making them “IT.” They will be “IT” until they clear their plates and then when and only when their plates are cleared will they not be “IT”. If they refuse to eat the broccoli they will remain “IT” and they have to run laps around the machine until they’re gasping for air. These broccoli crane machines will make kids healthy again and help with self esteem. “Gee, Johnny you ate your entire plate of broccoli. You’re not it and guess what? You’re not a fat slob anymore either.”

Thief

Someone must have sneaked into my house and stolen my words last night. I had them hidden under the chamber pot (yes next to the rope ladder that leads to the cave where I keep my underground circus). If anyone has seen my words please contact me. Some of my words shouldn’t be seen by amateurs. They will surely be misconstrued and then there will be a lot of explaining to do which frankly I don’t have the energy for at this point. So, please, I’m begging you (the person or persons in possession of my words) please return them ASAP. If you are a hot woman then I will sleep with you to get them back. Thank-you and good-bye…

In the transverse plexis of the deepest muldoon you will encounter much more than the flipeye can contravolute.

Big Splash

The frog trumpeters blew in a hollowed out log which was quickly capped on either end with giant toilet plungers. BIG SPLASH. The alligators awoke from nightmares in which they battled giant shoe horns and human feet smelling of vinegar. The swamp queen slurped mud from a Pepsi can as the snails clinging to her barnacle laden ears whispered to her that everything would be cool. The crawdads scaled the Cyprus in a conga line shaking their hard shelled booty to the rhythm of the waves slapping against the shoreline. Somewhere deep in the thick swamp bottom, where the swamp king oft thrusts his crooked shower rod trident searching for full beers lost by drunken fisherman, there lays a projectile with USA stamped on the side. The heirs to the swamp throne are now born with extra toes which make it easier to dig for mollusks and to scratch their four low hanging testicles with….

Idiots

I’m often embarrassed to be part of the human species and this was never truer than when I was watching CNN this morning. A senator from some southern state was rallying supporters at a sub shop or some such place. The senator threw his arms in the air and pivoted on the heels of his alligator shoes. “I believe marriage is between a man and a woman.” The people around him went nuts. Being a heterosexual male I can honestly say that I was relieved to hear that senator support the sacred institution of marriage. Nothing is closer to God’s heart (I know because I know God personally) than marriage and it should not be desecrated by sinners coupling in unholy union…okay, yeah I’m fucking with you. When I see some fucking senator using the marriage ticket to garner votes it just plane pisses me off. These voters don’t understand that this senator doesn’t give a flying fuck about the institution of marriage he’s only trying to get their vote. What is so sacred about marriage anyway? Married men and women cheat on each other all the time. Men beat there wives. What’s the fucking big deal if two women get married? Aren’t there more important issues? Like global warming, over population, and the rich stealing from the poor? Small minds and greed will be the end of this earth and human beings.

I bite

I started bouncing at a bar downtown Friday night. I think the experience will be invaluable for writing. I just ask if you come to visit that you have your ID ready because I can’t let you in without it. And please for the love of God don’t start a fight. I may only weight two hundred pounds but I can bite really really hard and I find everyone is extremely attached to their index fingers…

So long for now

Being alone is the thing I’m best at. Togetherness is too much work and so I uh…I’m leaving. I think you’ll understand when you find the letter I left under your windshield wiper. Really, it is for the best. I don’t want to go through the arguments and the boring dinners at your parent’s house and I can spare you from my grandfather’s 86^th birthday party and the gravy dripping off his chin. We can save ourselves a lot of time and energy and heartache if we just end it now…oh, you were thinking the same thing? Well, let’s not get hasty…maybe we can work things out…maybe you not loving me will make me love you. Yeah, I think that’s how love works. It’s no good without the pain…ah, hell I’m just fucking with you…let’s go up to my bedroom and discuss this like two full grown naked adults…

That smell

I read online that people often have a heightened sense of smell after influenza or some other illness. Well, I’ve been feeling under the weather for a week or so, nothing serious but just generally not like myself. The other day I walked out into the receptionist’s office and was overcome with the smell of shit. It was as if I suddenly had superhuman nose holes. “By God what is that stench?” I asked. No one else could really smell anything except the faint odor of maybe a fart or methane gas. I dismissed the incident until I was in the gym that night and I noticed the body odor of some guy on a treadmill. He smelled like he’d been swimming around in a cesspool. I almost puked. Suddenly it seemed I’d been given superhuman smelling ability and it was frightening. Of all the damn senses to be heightened mine had to be smell.

That evening working as a personal trainer at the gym was Hell to get through. The woman at the front desk smelled like cat pee so much that I had to put a towel over my mouth so I wouldn’t smell her. The locker room smelled like rotten fruit. The guy I trained smelled like a compost heap. I had to breathe through my mouth for the remainder of the night at the gym. By the time it was time to leave I was weak from holding my breath so much. When I got home I dropped on the couch and my dogs jumped up on my chest. All was well until my old dog farted while sitting on my chest. Now, I can only hope this superhuman smelling ability will go away before I have to go back to the gym. Why couldn’t I be given superhuman eyesight…no, of course I would looked through your bra and g-string…