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Frank Is Alive!

Kidding. He’s not. Frank died. Four times in my fiction serial in Talk Vomit. With four new fantastic drawings from Nikita. Check them out: Why Frank Chose His Family Over an Eternal Orgy *Based on my idea of Hell Frank died. His feet went first. Falling. He was falling down, down, down, and stopped right in the middle of a wild orgy. There were couches, … Continue reading Frank Is Alive!

The Center of the Universe

Dave called me in a panic. “Hey Dave, what–” “Hey man, so, you’re pretty religious right?” “Uh,” I frowned at my open refrigerator, I closed it. “Yeah, Dave, I guess. I mean–I go to Church like everyone else.” There was a pause at the other end, one of those tense serious ones. “Dave?” “Yeah, yeah. So, you know, do you think Earth is the center … Continue reading The Center of the Universe

How I learned to Use Chopsticks

Sometimes I’ll look out of the window of a house in a movie and feel homesick. It will bring back memories that have nothing to do with the window. It brings back smells and muffled voices that become sharp and whole, and suddenly, I’m there, again. Eric is over. He knows how to use chopsticks. My father gives up first, forking chow-mein passed an outflow … Continue reading How I learned to Use Chopsticks

I Hit a Baby in the Face with a Bottle of Gin

I didn’t mean to, really. It wouldn’t have been so bad had I gotten beer–I meant to get beer. That woman, the shopkeeper, “the gin is on sale,” she said. So, I’ve now hit a baby in the face with a bottle of gin. It made a dink sound. “Shit!” I cried, as the baby hit the sidewalk. It could have only been in its … Continue reading I Hit a Baby in the Face with a Bottle of Gin

Missing the Hogwarts Express

We were having some sushi near the Cardinals Stadium in St. Louis. It was too early to have a whiskey, so I ordered a beer. The waitress nodded politely. “Don’t you want to see his ID?” my brother asked the waitress. She looked at him, then looked at me, an eyebrow raised. “You don’t have to,” I grumbled, hand in my pocket. She walked off. … Continue reading Missing the Hogwarts Express

Oranges are Better in Spain

Hank and I walk down a street in Grenada with a group of twenty-somethings. “Woo-hoos” sound so much worse echoing off of two-hundred year old cobblestone, I think. “Woo-hoos sound so much–what?” Hank is looking at the road ahead. I follow his gaze, a man in a ski-mask is half-way out of a car window. Before anyone can react, he starts throwing. The group scatters … Continue reading Oranges are Better in Spain