essay
A Purpose
I was staring at that stack of journals, knowing I needed to write something for the first of the year and wondering if I could find some inspiration in Memaw’s words.
essay
memoir
"He Who Doesn't Believe...
...doesn't receive."
essay
A Black Dog at Night
He makes a circuit counter clockwise around the perimeter of the yard, checking the tree where he saw a squirrel, the rock wall where he heard a chipmunk, and under the shed where he knows the rabbits live.
commentary
Past Sins
The inevitable Graham Platner rant.
commentary
Vancouver
So I kept walking, on to Chinatown long enough to see street signs with golden dragons on top, then back East toward the blocks that held hundred thousand dollar watches, Ferrari’s and the AKC French Bulldog people with their hard silicon faces.
commentary
Thoughts and Prayers and Thank You For Your Service
...I pity them. I feel genuinely sorry for all of them with their yellow ribbon stickers and “would’ve served but” because I experienced something else during those dark days, something they will never experience for themselves.
memoir
Fear and the World's Greatest Turkey Sandwich
It was little better than prison food. Three slices of cold roast turkey in between two sliced of white bread, no condiments, just a Styrofoam cup of water to wash it down and lime Jello for dessert.
memoir
An Outlaw's Prayer
For a long time I thought there was something wrong with me, that the reason I didn’t have faith was because I was bad or broken. I don’t believe that anymore, but I still don’t understand. How is it everyone I love takes comfort in religion and I find none?
commentary
July 4, 2025
When faced with unimaginable horrors some people will run, more will freeze, but a surprising number will fight. A shocking number of people will run to aid their fellow man. I’ve seen it
memoir
15 Miles in the Dark
It was on those long drives that I talked myself into asking out a girl for the first, second, and third times and where I dealt with the crushing defeat of rejection and the low grade, lingering pain of being “just friends.”
memoir
Bayous and Backyards (Crescent City Chapter 4)
Fishing buddies give no quarter and accept none. He ragged me endlessly. I was beginning to think he’d legitimately cursed me. I seriously considered seeing if I could find a gris gris to lift the curse.
commentary
Letter to my Normie Friends.
Felt good to be joyous. Man doing something is so much better than sitting, watching, and feeling like shit isn’t it? Remember that feeling. Cherish it.