Thanks to everyone who stopped to talk or buy a book at the South Park Artisan Market on November 19. I'll be there again on December 10 for a repeat performance and this time I will have credit card reader.
Thursday, November 17, 2016
Back in the early 2000's I published a monthly website called Buffalo Mudd that ripped off the satrical style of The Onion. Describing the site I would tell people it's The Onion of Buffalo. Well, over this past summer I got one of those fancy streaming music services and today was the day I boxed up and exiled some five hundred cd's to the basement, including a couple hundred disks I burned myself. Going through them I came across a CDR titled "Buffalo Mudd Backup." As far as I remembered Buffalo Mudd was only backed up with floppy disks. Yes, floppy disks, that's how long ago it was. And, as you might imagine, as excited as I was to see the disk I thought there was no way these files, which were more than a decade old would interface with my Blogger program. But after a little cutting and pasting I've managed to recreate a reasonable facsimile of the original, epistemological...Molly story. She was a little older and she was Molly O'Malley instead of Molly Shea, The piece in itself is really kind of stupid, but it's a charming make you smile kind of stupid. Or at least it was for me. I hope it is for you too.
What's A Party Chick To Do?
Sunday, November 13, 2016
Monday, November 7, 2016
I almost made it the whole five days without the old man finding out about my suspension. School didn’t have his pay by the minute flip phone number and we didn’t have a home phone, but because of a downpour, he got sent home from a roofing job and found me there instead of at school. This was Wednesday, the last day of my suspension. By that part of the week he was pretty much broke so he was only able to stay at the bar for a few beers and wasn’t soused yet. He did have a plan though, with a fresh twelve pack of Keystone Lights that he loaded in the fridge, because, ya know, besides getting shit faced, he was worried about his figure.
Initially he was mad about how I was scamming him, getting up in the morning and then pretending to go to school. But his anger momentarily faded, and believe me him not angry for even a moment is a victory, when I told him how I smacked that fucking moron gorilla McManus upside his head with my English book and how I accidently punched Mr. Pierson in the chin. Besides not being mad for a moment an even rarer thing occurred, he may have actually been proud of me, not only because I stood up for myself, but because I got a shot in at a teacher. But that quickly faded when I made the mistake of telling him how McManus’s friends got a hold of me and locked me up. This prompted him to want to show me how to escape such a situation, but it was fucking stupid since there was no way to recreate it with just one guy. Nevertheless, he had me lock him up with my arms under his and my chest up against his back. Going through a recent growth spurt not only was I pushing six feet, I was also getting kind of strong and he wasn’t really able to break free of my hold. Sensing he was getting pissed I loosened my grip and was immediately greeted by an elbow to the stomach.
All cocky he said, “That’s how ya fucking do it. Got it?”
I was really mad and clenching my teeth said, “Yeah, got it!”
He looked at me for a long moment, maybe considering the need for further fucking parenting. Maybe a headlock or a kick in the balls would be the right pedagogic fucking strategy or maybe his tiny white fucking trash brain was on overload trying to decide whether I really ‘got it’ or was being a smart ass. Life was tough when the prism through which you saw the world was limited to your angry resentments and a twelve pack of Keystone Lights.