From the monthly archives:

July 2010

I’m the John Updike of Walla Walla, Washington

July 31, 2010

I didn’t spend no time in the Northeast, and I didn’t write no book every year long after I run out of things to say, and I know about as much about suburban boredom and filling those empty hours a man might call a life with fruitless sex with my neighbors as Mr. Updike knows [...]

Share
Check out the rest →

Elephant in the Room: Dad’s Unprovoked Inuit Slurs

July 30, 2010

We’ve all noticed it. Dad calling the power company a bunch of blubber-stealing sons of bitches. Dad making jokes about seal-skin moccassins as if he’d had a pair that leaked in a snowstorm. Dad telling Ernie, our Mexican-American dermatologist, that his people should stop making ice houses and start getting jobs. Dad yelling at me [...]

Share
Check out the rest →

Fuck You, Wilford Brimley

July 29, 2010

You’re nothing but a shill for Big ‘Beetus.

Share
Check out the rest →

Some Advice for Your Son on Selecting a Safety Word for His Dominatrix

July 28, 2010

Now, Jason, I know you’ve probably got your own safety word in mind, something literary like Pickwick or Portia. I understand that you would mine the pages of fiction and drama for the word you’ll use someday-someday soon, perhaps-to get the dominatrix to cease from pulling on your testicles. But I’d like you to consider [...]

Share
Check out the rest →

My Sister, My Brother

July 27, 2010

So, okay, you want to run this by me again? Not particularly, Jake, no. But. I knew it. I knew it when we were kids. You used to steal my tighty-whites and wear them yourself, right? I found panties repulsive. And so yeah. Sometimes I did. And now, what? What am I supposed to call [...]

Share
Check out the rest →

The Shit I Do In The Back Of My Creepy Yellow Van

July 26, 2010

Practice finger-style guitar picking Read my friends’ unpublished short stories Knit hats for my nieces and one of my nephews Assess the windows; apply more tint when appropriate Laugh about that one scene with the creepy van in Silence of the Lambs Practice my Buffalo Bill voice Repeat that line “Oh wait, was she a [...]

Share
Check out the rest →

Sales Pitch Battle at Saint Paul Cathedral: Pigeon Spikes vs. Pigeon Netting

July 25, 2010

Father Mitchell: Go ahead men. Let’s hear it. Roger Dawes: Two words, Father: Kevlar gossamer. Father Mitchell: I’m listening… Roger Dawes: Virtually indestructible-military grade netting. Complete ceiling coverage with zero visibility. Dave Lewis: [laughing] Zero visibility, Roger? Zero visibility is a hoax. You know it, I know it. Father Mitchell here knows it and he’s, [...]

Share
Check out the rest →

Dustin’s Lack of Topicality Costs Him at Laff Master’s Open-Mic Night

July 24, 2010

So, what about that war in Iraq? I mean, what’s up with that? WMDs? What’s that stand for, We Made Dat… up? [silence] Oh, and hey, what’s up with this social networking? I mean, Friendster, MySpace, you guys heard about this? So, this girl messages me-I mean, she could be a model, very attractive, very-classy [...]

Share
Check out the rest →

What to Shout While General Custer’s Great-Great Grandson Shoots a Free Throw

July 23, 2010

MASS-A-KERR . . . MASS-A-KERR . . . MASS-A-KERR . . .

Share
Check out the rest →

The Real Story of my Sole Experience With Three-Card Monte

July 22, 2010

I always tell people that I won at three-card monte. I tell them that the guy showed me the queen (of diamonds, I think) and two aces (clubs and spades), then shuffled the cards around on a cardboard box top (which is true), and then asked me to point to the queen (which I did). [...]

Share
Check out the rest →

A Ranch Hand’s 90 Day Self-Evaluation

July 21, 2010

1. What did you learn? I reckon I learned that puttin’ down a steer takes more than just firing some .45 between his eyes. I learned that my Pa don’t like to ask for help, he just wants it. 2. How well did you learn it? Suppose I learned that I ain’t cut out for [...]

Share
Check out the rest →

Phyllis Renews Her Rhetorical Interrogations

July 20, 2010

You don’t think I see you at night, skulking around my windows? Because I do. And don’t let me catch you back by my shed one more time mister, or I’ll call the cops. You think I won’t? Because I will. I know what you and the rest of the glue-sniffing hooligans around here are [...]

Share
Check out the rest →

The Murky Fringe Records Your Lazy Days On The Boat With Aunt Sheila

July 19, 2010

Aunt Sheila: “Get your goddamn pansy ass up already and take a picture of your Aunt Sheila with this here fish.” You: “Like this?” Aunt Sheila: “I can’t figure out how in the shit hell my sister ever gave birth to a bottom feeding carp like you.” You: “What sort of angle do you want [...]

Share
Check out the rest →

My Three Russian Mothers

July 18, 2010

My three Russian mothers were the ring around the bathtub left after the Tsarina’s soak. My three Russian mothers were boot scuffs under the table. My three Russian mothers were always shelling beans, laughing at Father’s 9 fingers. My three Russian mothers were there when it all began, but just after it started, and somewhere [...]

Share
Check out the rest →

My Father

July 17, 2010

My father was the napkin you find wadded in your pocket the next morning, no name on it, the ink smeared, the penultimate digit illegible, something on the corner that might either be lipstick or blood. My father was the smell of old man and America in summer—new-mown grass and well-oiled leather, the sweet scent [...]

Share
Check out the rest →