Yet More Top 5 Signs She Doesn’t Dig You Anymore

  • She buys a king size bed so that you’re really, really, really far from away from her in it.
  • After buying the king size bed, she still makes you sleep on the couch.
  • She asks you what you want her to pick up for dinner. You tell her you’re in the mood for pizza and wings. You come home to find a plate of salad waiting for you at the table, while she’s sitting there with a plate full of discarded chicken wing bones and pizza crusts
  • You have plans to spend the day together and she mistakenly sends a you text saying that she can’t make Girl’s Brunch Day because she has to hang out with the scumbag today.
  • She schedules family picture day but never tells you what day it is.
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Coming Soon… Part Deux

Drinking About You

Sick Puppy

Doctor’s Note

The Emotional Highjacking of Melanie

The Pandemic Wars

Meeting the Love of your Life at a Stop Light While Asking for Directions because your GPS isn’t Working

Telling Stories at 3 AM While Eating Cheese Fries and Gravy at the Diner

The Princess & The Butterfly – A Suburban Fable

The Blackout

Salutations from the Gutter


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Coming Soon…

Interview with the Zombie

Tripping up the Stairs with Machete in Hand

Cold Coffee and Gas Station Sandwiches

Chasing the Muse with Chloroform

Hair of the Dog

The Man Upstairs


Dancing with a Serial Killer

Captain Barbiturate and the Valium Vigilante

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Coming… Soon!

Dreams and Aspirations of a Modern Nihilist

The Princess and The Butterfly – A Suburban Fable

An Interview with the Zombie

Vapid Vitrole

Lovesick and other Hangovers

B. J. and the Bear: The Musical

Things Not to Say on a First Date – Part IV

How to Make Balloon Animals without Balloons

The Accidental Orgy

Bubba’s Birthday Bash

Stay tuned for many, many more.

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Happy New Year


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The Best Part of the Song


They were running late for their road trip. It didn’t really matter whose fault it was. It was his. It was always his.

“Just for the record, we are late and it’s totally not my fault, yet again.” She said to him.

“Are you keeping count?” He asked.

“Nope, just making an observation. Let me make sure we have everything. Hydration? Check. Road Chips? Check.”

“What are road chips?”

“Chips you eat while on the road, duh.”

“Of course, how could I have not known that?”

“Probably because you’re always late. Okay, I’m in charge of the music.”

“What? No, the driver is always in charge of the music.”

“Really? Since when?”

“Since forever. You’ve never seen that bumper sticker?”

“What bumper sticker?”

“Driver picks the music, Shotgun shuts their cake hole.”

“Um, wow.”

“I didn’t make the rules, little miss missy.”

“You’re just enforcing them?”

“Damn Skippy.”

“Hey speaking of bumper stickers, look.”

“Look at what?”

“That car in front of us.”

“What about it?”

“They’re from the same town as you are, Bogota.”

“What? How can you tell that?”

“They got a little sticker in the back of their car of the Bogota High School mascot, the Buccaneer.”


“You told me that the mascot for Bogota was a buccaneer. That’s a Buccaneer right there.”

“Ummmm, I hate to break this to you, but…”

“But, what?”

“That’s a sticker for Seton Hall.”

“It is?”

“Yes, that’s the Seton Hall Pirates.”

“Hmmmm. Looks like a pirate to me. What’s the difference between a pirate and a buccaneer?”

“I have no clue.”

“Google to the rescue!”

“How about we pick out some music and identify the best part of the song instead?”

“Best part?”

“Sure, it will be a fun little road trip game.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“What, that there’s the best part of every song or it will be a fun road trip game?”

“A little of both actually.”

“I’m telling you every single good song has the best part of it.”

“Every single song?”

“No, not every single song. Every single good song.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Well, if it’s a bad song, it won’t be able to have the best part.”

“I see. So can you name the best part of any good song?”

“Of course.”

“Cool. Let me see your phone.”


“We’re going to play your game and I’m going to test you.”

“There’s no music on my phone.”

“What? That’s impossible. Everyone has music on their phone.”

“Not me.”

“Why not?”

“I use my iPod.”


“Seriously, what?”

“Seriously Grandpa, you still use an iPod?”

“Okay, I get it, I’m old.”

“I’m just messing with you. Let me see if I can even figure out how to work this thing.”

“Just hit the button and used the click wheel.”

“Got it. Okay, first up: AC/DC – Long Way to the Top.” 

“That’s an easy slam dunk.”

“Oh is it now?”

“Sure, everyone knows that it’s the bagpipes.”


“Everyone who’s heard the song.”

“Okay, okay, next up: Anthrax – Indians.”

“Are you going alphabetically?”

“It just makes a whole lot of sense. I mean they’re right there all in a row. So what’s the best part?”

“When he goes like this, he goes, WARDANCE!” He screams.

“How doe he go?”

“WARDANCE!” He screams again.

She looks at him and can’t help herself but to laugh.

“You’re mocking me.”

“You make it so easy.”

“Okay, okay. What’s next?”

“Bob Dylan, really? You have Bob Dylan on this thing?”

“Sure, I love Bob Dylan. Who doesn’t?”

“Ummm, me.”

“Really, why? What did he ever do to you?

“To me nothing, but to my dad…”

“What? Your dad knows Bob Dylan? Why am I only hearing about this now?”

“I don’t know. I guess it just never came up.”

“What could Bob Dylan have possibly done to raise your father’s ire?”

“He borrowed $20 from him and never gave it back.”


“Yeah, they were living in the city. He wasn’t big and famous yet and he asked my father for $20. My father gave it to him and never got a penny in return.”

“That seems a little hard to believe.”

“What’s hard to believe? Bob Dylan is a mooch.”

“I’m sorry but I don’t believe it. It just seems very unlikely.”

“You calling my father a liar?”

“No, I’m just saying he’s probably not remembering it right.”

She looks at him and musters up her best Al Pacino impression. “Fredo, you’re my brother and I love you, but don’t ever take sides against the family again.”

“Okay weirdo, what’s next?”

“Since for some reason you are set against me going alphabetically, let’s skip down to The White Stripes – Black Math.”


“Seriously, what?”

“That’s another easy one. It’s when Jack White goes like this, he goes, Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah.”

“Wait, how does he go?”

“Nope, you’re not going to get me to do it again. Next?”

“Here’s a good one, Pearl Jam’s Jeremy.”

“That’s a toss-up.”

“Did I stump you?”

“Not yet, I’m narrowing it down but I think I got it.”

“Okay, what is it?”

“The Oooo Ooooo’s.”

“I’m sorry, did you just say the Oooo Ooooo’s?”

“Yeah, at the end of the song. The Oooo Ooooo’s”

“This game is boring me. I just want to listen to real music and eat chips. Can I turn on the radio?”

“Sure, I’m not an animal?”


“Sam Malone.”


“Sam Malone. The TV show, Cheers? Don’t tell me you’ve never seen it?”

“A little before my time, Grandpa.”

“Seriously, you’re only 5 years younger than me.”

“Okay, cradle robber.”


“I’m just messing with you again, of course I know Sam Malone, but I’m not getting the reference.”

“There was an episode where he’s describing how he’s about to have sex with someone.”

“Oooooooooooo sounds steamy.”

“As steamy as NBC could be back then, I guess, but he’s telling the story and says, I’m folding up my socks and Carla asks you fold up your socks before sex? and Sam replies, Sure… I’m not an animal.”

She just looks at him blankly.



“We’ll watch it tonight and you’ll laugh.”

“Challenge accepted, but now it’s radio time.” She tunes the satellite radio in the car to the Alt Nation channel and catches a song by Vance Joy playing. He’s about to say something to her when she interrupts.

“Wait, wait, waaaaaaaaaaait.”


“Ssssshhhhhhhhh. This is the best part of the song.”

The End

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Coming soon in The Year of the Dog

Coming soon…

The Best Part of the Song

Bubba’s Birthday

The Running Girl

An Interview with the Zombie

Rabbit’s Foot


Awkward Encounter

How to Make Balloon Animals without Balloons

Wasted Wishful Thinking


and many, many more









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Drunken Laundry



He loaded up his laundry bag with dirty clothes. He went through his quick mental checklist:


Laundry detergent – Running low but… Check

                  Fabric Softener – Check

                  Quarters – Check

                  Beer – Check


He was all set to go downstairs to the laundry room of his apartment building when a text came in from his friend.


– Hang 2nite? Nu bar opened Shud b gud

                  – Can’t 2nite

                  – Y not?

                  – Laundry nite

                  – U gotta B kidding???

                  – Nope

                  – This is worse than ur excuse two weeks ago

                  – Wut excuse?

                  – U said it wuz garbage nite

                  – It was                 

                  – Lame

                  – I got a nu cool way 2 do laundry

                  – ???


He looked down at his phone for a moment and contemplated texting the Laundry Game out. It would take to long to type it out. He called his friend to explain. Five rings then right to voice mail.



     – I just called you… Pick up

                  – Can’t right now

                  – Y?

                  – Dropping a deuce

                  – ???

                  – Call u wen done


He went back to gathering his laundry essentials and headed down the stairs. The laundry room had multiple duties as it was also the garbage room, the storage room, a bicycle rack, and it also held the office of the building’s superintendant.


He started to unload his laundry basket filled with clothes, detergent, fabric softener, and a 6 pack of beer when his phone rang. He checked the caller ID and saw it was his friend calling back.


“What’s up mother-fucker?” He sang in a falsetto voice.

“Yo, yo yo. What’s this cool new way of doing laundry, brother?” His friend asked.

“First things first.”


“You were taking a shit when I called?”

“Yes, why?”

“You texted back that you were dropping a deuce and that you couldn’t talk.”


“You couldn’t talk but you could text?”

“Sure, I’m not an animal.”

“Kinda gross dude.”

“You wouldn’t have known I was defecating unless I told you. Had I picked up the phone you would have heard the bathroom echo.”

“The bathroom echo?”

“Yes, no fabrics in there except a bathmat. Hence the echo.”

“But you can still text?”


“But not talk?”

“Yes… I’m not an animal.”

“Whatever dude, it’s still gross.”

“Whatever man, tell me about this new game you got going.”

“I call it Drunken Laundry.”

“How do you play?”

“Simple really, you grab a sixer of beer, more of course if you have more players and you bet on if the machine is going to fuck up or not.”

“Fuck up or not? What does that even mean?”

“Yeah the machines are real old. They jacked up the prices from $1.50 a wash to $2.50 a wash but never upgraded the machines, they only upgraded the prices.”

“Doesn’t seem right.”

“Totally not, but my requests have fallen on deaf ears so instead of continuing a fruitless endeavor, I’ve created a game of it.”

“Okay so how do you play?”

“You take a drink every time the machine gets stuck on the cycle.”

“On the cycle?”

“Yeah if it says rinsing which should last no more than a few minutes and is stuck on the rinsing cycle. You take a drink.”

“Seems easy enough.”

“Yup, any time machine gets stuck you take a drink,”

“I’m assuming it gets stuck a lot otherwise there would be no game.”

“Exactamundo. Then there’s the one part if the machine shuts off completely mid-cycle you have to down the whole beer.”

“Sounds like good times. How many sixers you playing with tonight?”

“I just got the one, so I’m letting certain rules slide.”

“Okay I’m in.”

“You’re in?”

“Yeah, let me go to the liquor store and I’ll be right over I think I want to play Drunken Laundry tonight.”

“You sure? I usually just play it alone. I think I’m the only one that finds true enjoyment from it.”

“Nope, I’m totally in.”

“That’s cool. Can you do me a favor before you come by?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“I only have the one sixer here, can you get more beer, a bottle of vodka, and a lighter?”

“No problem, I get the more beer and vodka part but what’s the lighter for?”

“I’m going to take Drunken Laundry to the next level tonight.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Flaming shots.”

“Flaming shots, really?”

“Every time the laundry machines eat your change you have to take a shot.”

“Okay, I’m on my way.”

“Oh, one more thing?”

“What’s that?”

“Bring some laundry detergent.”




The End

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I drank and I slept and then I drank and slept some more.

I did it again and again.

I drank and I slept.

I mourned not the loss, but that I was broken.


To sleep is to escape.

To escape is the chance to live again.




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