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I heard toenails slipping on linoleum in the kitchenette off my office. Only Dogs create that sound; and sure enough, upon inspection, I discovered the “Baw Brothers,” Beezer and Barkevious, teaming to raid the refrigerator. I am guilty of leaving the fridge door ajar, so this situation happens almost constantly.
Continue reading “The Adventures of Beezer and Barkevious by Leila Allison”
“We create monsters and then we can’t control them.” –Joel Coen
Looking back through the window of memory with all its scratches, I’m driven to tell my story not to frighten but to enlighten because in the end—that cocky, inescapable end—-it’s truth, not reality, that transforms us. According to Dr. Hornsby, the men shuffling cards at my kitchen table that December at 3 in the morning were part of what he called my ongoing childhood fantasy— except that, unlike all the other fantasies, this one was the first that could be fatal.
“It’s called paracosm, Peter,” he informed me. “None of it is real.”
Continue reading “Hooked by Jack Kamm”
Kindle is one of the greatest inventions since the pop-top beer can. Anyone who has had to pack and move hundreds of books from one place to another should be grateful for it. I look at my tablet, amazed that I have thousands upon thousands of pages stored in it; enough volumes to make my place look like that of a hoarder. I now own maybe three hundred paper books–down from the high of about fifteen hundred I had on hand in the 90’s.
Continue reading “Week 476: Xtra, Xtra Read All About It; Five, Make That Six Good Reads; Inked Jocularity”
Whether it Be Curbing or Kerbing, Nothing Vomits Sweeter Than Stolen Beer
Society has been going to hell since the invention of the Good Old Days. Funny thing there–because it’s true and yet there are new Good Old Days rolling out of the Good Old Days Factory constantly. A Paradox, until you remember that New People are being produced at even a greater frequency.
Continue reading “Week 472: Where Have You Gone Darby Crash? Punk Bed Fiasco and Not All That Irritates Makes a Pearl”
Our friend Tom Sheehan does everything in a big yet dignified way. He has the most stories and years and (probably reruns). And it is from his sizable pile of successful stories (gleaned from a long and successful life) we once again run Recall and Reveille.
Continue reading “Sunday Rerun: Recall and Reveille by Tom Sheehan”
When I was in high school A Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeppelin was considered the greatest rock song (greatest as in “progressive”–whose heyday was from the mid-sixties through the mid-seventies). Anyway, that’s what the guys on the FM radio said. At the start of this month (fifty years later, on the station that’s always playing where I work) Seattle’s “Home of Classic Rock,” KZOK, again voted it number one (narrowly edging out Bohemian Rhapsody, which finished second for the fifth year in a row). For the record, the Queen song is truly an innovative thing–it blew minds when it came around in 1976; and to be honest, I have always disliked Stairway. Fairly or otherwise I associate it with the slacker in an army coat who stank of weed and sat behind me in Social Studies class. He always fell asleep and I had to whack him on the head with exam papers when it was time to pass them back. A minor annoyance in my life, yet I have yet to forget it.
Continue reading “Week 466: Greatness Schmerateness; Five New Stories and Dueling Old Lists”
Happily Never After
I cannot help but knock feel good fiction. It reminds me of Heaven, which no one has ever described to my satisfaction. From what I have seen, Heaven looks like an eternal installment of Songs of Praise (I thought the USA had a monopoly in the department of hokey religious programming, but the UK has once again exposed my ignorance).
Continue reading “Week 464: Happily Never After and Antisocial People Have Feelings Too”
Ian was a stereotype.
I didn’t really know him but I knew his wife.
The reason I say ‘stereotype’ is that he was a raging alcoholic but unbelievably functional. The usual story here, he worked in the entertainment industry as a lighting man for a theatre and that was a life that had alcohol not just at the end of the day, also throughout. As long as he could shine a spotlight and in these more technical days, programme a system, no one gave a shit.
Continue reading “Ian by Hugh Cron”
“I need to speak to Peter.”
Ann looked at him and worried straight away.
“What’s wrong love, why has he got you so riled – I mean, for fuck sake, he’s Peter, the most inoffensive wee guy that we’ve ever known.”
Colin gave her a hug, “I don’t want to say anything until I hear his side.”
Continue reading “Peter by Hugh Cron (Strong Adult Content)”
Well here we are, the holidays behind us, in a brand spanking New Year, which, in my eyes, already looks as fresh as a recently widowed elderly French rent boy cruising the cafes in search of a breathing benefactor. But to those of you who insist on at least benign, if not kind or P.C. expressions–well, happy new year to you and many more I am sure.
Continue reading “Week 462: Rule 17; Necessary Words; A to Z of Needless Words”
literally stories 