I heard Mark Twain picked cotton, captained a riverboat, and failed at gold mining before becoming a full time writer. The only thing I've picked recently is my nose and my ex-wife says I'm not even good at that, but I have had some rather spectacular failures. I spray painted trucks for a spell and inhaled a fair bit of overspray, which I account for the oddness of my thinking. I also swallowed more than a few gallons of fish piss cleaning aquariums for a pet wholesaler (I got the siphon going by sucking on a hose). I'll do the math for you - I cleaned 100 tanks a week for a year and failed to get the damn hose out of my mouth about every tenth time. That means I gargled with over 500 mouthfuls of fish poop during my career - enough to make anyone a little kooky. But it sure made my hair grow. Timing was never my strong suit, so I never should have tried playing the stock market, because what little money I had was lost there. After that, I guess I got a little lost too. That was a while ago. Now I write some and just try to keep high and dry while I captain my cosmic riverboat up the big river. I'd be happy if you came aboard for a visit.
Soft snow, warm fire and...an unexpected event. I wrote this as my profile for one of those on-line dating sites. Got a few nibbles. It describes my idea of a romantic date and gives some hints to the kind of man I am and what I seek in a partner.
Why Jose Soliquez Mattered to God
Do you matter? Is your life significant? Find out in this story of a dying man from an ancient time who, when grieving over the loss of his only son, carelessly tosses a gold coin into the ocean and is drawn into the story behind the story.
They bring a world-wide end to violence, complete personal serenity, and total joy. Why not then allow an alien crustacean to burrow its spiny tentacle deep into your cerebellum?
A visit to a college football game unearths skeletal souls who joyously drink mezcal and dance until sunrise in Corusoe's visceral and delightfully skewed portrait of life in America.
A rodent is beautified in crucifixion, a wayward rocket skews to destruction, and an ancient predator lurks in our archetypal memories -- all at a summer night's baseball game.
What I Nearly Forgot
A summer afternoon's hike to a wild river island becomes a man's metaphysical journey back to childhood - to ghost trains, tadpoles, and his sense of growing frailty.
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