When manna like this falls from heaven it’s almost enough to make you believe in, well, heaven. I’m generally frustrated at the realization that I’m basically a man without a political party–too poor and yet too smart to be a Republican, and too smart and yet too practical to be a Democrat–but there are times when, along with double the disgruntlement, that I enjoy double the hilarity. It is in times like these that I thank the Great Spaghetti Monster for men like Ted Cruz, and the n’er-do-wells who mock him. This is going to be fun.
Native, Militant Westsylvanian (the first last best place), laborer, gardener, and literary hobbyist (if by literary you mean "hack"). I've had a bunch of different blogs, probably four, due to a recurring compulsion to start over. This incarnation owes to a desire to dredge up the best entries of the worst little book of hand-scrawled poems I could ever dream of writing, salvageable excerpts from fiction both in progress and long-abandoned. and a smattering of whatever the hell seems to fit at any particular moment. At first blush, I was here just to focus on old, terrible verse, but I reserve the right to include...anything. Maybe everything, certainly my love of pulp novels, growing garlic, the Pittsburgh Steelers and howling at the moon--both figuratively and, on rare occasions, literally.View Archive →