Sunday, December 13, 2015

Wikipediatrics

I received a link today from an extremely alert reader (pronounced: stalker) regarding an online business profile on our company.  Our legal machine, Wes Hohenstein, asked if we needed his assistance.  Opting for a much more disastrous approach, we decided to pass on Wes' $5-thousand dollar per minute fees and agreed that I personally dispatch an e-mail:  Here we go...
    "Categorized as publishing/media. Pontchartrain Press, Dba "Cockmonster Under My Bed"

Established/inc. 2009, New Orleans, La, Nashville, Tn.  Registered: Santa Monica, Ca, New York, Ny, Dallas, Tx, Butternut, Wi.

Principles: approximately 2
Employees: approximately 7
Annual Revenue: approximately
    $xxx,xxx     (HAHAHAHA)          

From: Jim Patrick, Pontchartrain Press
    Greetings from the South Pole, My indicated locale is about as accurate as the data compiled on our company by your associates who, clearly, work for Wikipedia.
    I once used Wikipedia for biographical on a story subject but could only decipher that she was born sometime between 1972-1990, born in Dubuque and was, in fact, deceased...which was news to her when I informed her of the tragic information that she's from Dubuque.  
    You, commendably, managed to get a few items correct.  However, much like the carnival "pop the balloon dart game" you flatly would be going home with concession stand food poisoning or a staph infection rather than the life-size stuffed animal.
    The number of "principles" was correct in noting "approximately two."  Between myself and managing editor, Mike Klein, sadly, Mike is indeed half of a man as he has only ONE testicle, directly attributed to a bizarre wheelbarrow handle to the nuts while chasing his sister when he was age 10.
   This, likely, explains a lot about Mike's general self esteem.

   The approximate number of employees is somewhat correct but might change soon as we're unable to locate Amanda since her weekend trip to North Carolina with the 12th hipster that she's dated in five years.  As she continues to make stellar life decisions, we're keeping a hopeful vigil that she wasn't involved in a shark attack, mountain accident or a hate crime.  (North Carolina is a diverse, geopolitical state)

   My money on the "Amanda Dead Pool" btw is that, unlike previous boyfriends, her new guy finally figured out how to murder her and get away with it.  
    Since we all have her number on "call block" we just don't know.  Then again, I'm pretty sure iPhones don't work in North Carolina anyway.
   As for estimated revenue, somebody has some serious explaining to do to our staff...except for Amanda of course.

Regards,
James Patrick

Copyright Pontchartrain Press, 2015
All Rights Reserved

Saturday, November 21, 2015

Sweet Sixteen

A rarity where I respond to anyone under 18 so as not to anger their parents, or Tipper Gore.  This is a situation that any number of my colleagues would refer to as a recipe for disaster.  This young woman is gonna be a writing star...

TO: Jim Patrick
From: Linz, Nashville, TN.
I'm 16 and really enjoy the stuff you write for the local blog scene here...it only appears once per month.  Why??  You're FROM HERE.

I hope to be a writer eventually and notice that you include silly stuff about your family and friends a lot. My family and friends are crazy funny, stupid but I wonder how I can write about them and not make them mad at me.

I figure no one will pay attention to my writing till I'm older anyway. When did you begin writing and did people take you seriously?

From: Jim Patrick Pontchartrain Press
Dear Linz,

Once per month??  It's supposed to appear twice per month- someone's getting fired for this!  Unfortunately it'll be me.

I seem to have moderate allergies to deadline oriented writing assignments, according to Mike Klein, the editor.

On another note, I also have allergies to cats, which led to an eventual breakup between me and my Ex. She, likely, holds an entirely different opinion on this topic.

Let's get to the most important aspect of your e-mail-  Aren't there ANY sort of parental filtering systems on your computer? WHY would your parents allow you to hit that Nashville publication?

I'm happy that you did though and that you've enjoyed them- They probably won't scar you or anything...not too much.

If your parents take issue, no worries.  I'm perfectly accustomed to angering a young woman's parents- another topic where I believe my Ex might provide a treasure trove of information.

To answer your remaining questions: I don't have a clue.

Actually I'm not certain that anyone takes ME seriously to this day and I'm not 16.  But, life can be more fun that way Linz; It's less stressful quite honestly.

Don't be discouraged or doubt yourself because of your age, ever-  simply write what you feel whether or not someone will like it or not.  There'll always be someone who doesn't like another person's art.  I'm looking in the general direction of Nickelback.

When someone shoots your stuff down, deal with it bravely as I do...cry uncontrollably in the corner of a locked room and stage a hunger strike.  (both for people not liking your writing AND for the fact that Nickelback is still making music).

I happen to take you seriously, otherwise I wouldn't be writing back I suppose.

You're fortunate to have friends and family who are "crazy, funny, stupid."- get ready to create an arsenal of pseudonyms unless you're ready to be uninvited, unfriended and sit alone a lot.

I don't have this particular problem as my friends are crazy, stupid, funny...and usually drunk.

Note: Don't drink, smoke or watch the Real Housewives.  Make healthful eating choices, stay in school...oh, and always wear your seatbelt.  Also, stay away from boys until you're age 30.  

Pass along the following message to your dad for me...

"You're welcome."  

(He'll know what I mean.)

I would've attached some draft writings but I'd like to not end up on a neighborhood watch bulletin.

The truth is, I believe that most people have some form of talent and all people have dreams.  Sadly, so many don't take that first step.  But, you did.  Never stop doing that.  Keep at it...then watch what happens.

It may or may not be important to note: I am not a role model for young people, at least that's what I've been told.  But, I truly thank you for your email.

Regards,
Jim

copyright Pontchartrain Press, 2015

Author note: Since she sent this email, Linz recently won accolades in a Nashville area school essay competition.  Congrats!

Tuesday, November 17, 2015

The Family Tree Fell In The Forest


I learned from Geneology.com that I most certainly must have been drunk for visiting Genealogy.com.

I also learned that, in ancient times, many marriages were by capture, not choice - due  scarcity of nubile women, men raided other villages for wives.

This sounds like Braveheart mixed with Monday Night Football meets The Bachelor and a snuff film. Tru TV,  please add this program to your lineup!

Frequently the tribe from which a warrior stole a bride would come looking for her, fill out some paperwork I suppose and then it was necessary for these wacky kids to go into hiding to avoid being discovered; Sort of like weapons of mass destruction.

Sounds romantic.

I don't date as I enjoy a sane existence without crazy people but, if I did date, I simply like to go  for dinner, enjoy a nice stroll, maybe a concert and, perhaps, a few drinks- It never occurred to me to resurrect a tradition of tribal warfare on the first date.  I save that for the third date.

According to an old French custom, (and we all know what the French are famous for... obnoxiousness.)

The country of cheese, chain smoking, infidelity and wine asserted that as the moon went through all phases, a new couple must drink a brew called Metheglin (This sounds too close to Meth, which is Sooo Central Florida for my comfort level).

It's a concoction made from honey. Hence, we get the word honeymoon. Also known as it's all downhill from here.

I suspect that I would have been hanged, drawn, quartered and/or burned at the stake during this era.

Again, on MY rare occasion for a date and not necessarily in this order: We eat, have a few drinks, maybe film a pornographic video and I'll open doors for her.

I remember once, in my wilder days, I went on a date and at the end of the evening we happened across a mutual friend.

The three of us chatted for a bit (by chatted, I mean we had five shots of Tequila) and, before sunrise, we found ourselves on a plane,  400-miles away, at the beach in Boca Raton.

Yes, I realize that this sounds like a creepy plotline for a pornographic film.

Perhaps my favorite “date” visual comes from a friend of mine, Leigh. She informed that she once went on a double date and tooled around town in an MG- Even better, they went to a festival in Lower Manhattan and won “The Big Banana.”  Four people in a two-seater with a stuffed, 6-foot banana. I’m not certain what role the banana may or may not have played later in the evening and I didn’t ask.

There are some experiences that one can't receive from e-Harmony.

Even though my expeditions do not involve tribal kidnapping, nor the “Big Banana”- enjoying another’s company, whether it be over dinner, drinks, a multi state killing spree, etc.  I require no formal event title. It can be with a friend or it can be with someone with whom you would greatly like to see naked; No pressures or stigmas attached.

copyright Pontchartrain Press, 2015

Saturday, November 14, 2015

Dear Jim...not again!

Dear Jim, after consulting my list of Facebook friends, I decided that you were uniquely qualified to answer a question that has been foremost on my mind and I fear I will not sleep until I get a satisfactory answer.

Is it possible for every car insurance company to have the lowest rates? Thank you in advance for your help.

Best regards, your friend,
Chuck

Dear Charlie,
First of all, allow me to dispel any over-confidence that I'm qualified to do anything above and beyond showering and dressing myself.

I'm equally shaky about consulting a Facebook friends list in search of any solid information  beyond learning that a friend's 2yr old just shit on the kitchen table or...
Viewing a tasty entree which is becoming ice cold as  Facebook friend is conducting a professional photo shoot in order to brag about some stupid dinner recipe they found on a Martha Stewart blog in order to cause the rest of us to feel inadequate about our miserable lot in life as we cram a box of Kraft Mac and cheese down our face while contemplating suicide.

You'll also see stupid pics of some vacation full of friends who never call, updated status from a friend whose grandpa also just shit on the kitchen table and a random blurb that  "Jenny is now in her 7-thousandth relationship" confirming what we're all thinking...that she is a whore. But,  according to her post, she is soooo happy.

That said, unfortunately, Pontchartrain Press adheres to strict "no endorsement" media values for objectivity appearances.

I greatly appreciate your email but I must retrieve my Tombstone Pizza from the oven. I plan to enjoy it with a frosty Amstel Light while watching an episode of The Blacklist, starring James Spader as part of NBCs Must See Thursday- 9/8central. If there's time, I might enjoy 8 essential vitamins and minerals via a bowl of Lucky Charms.

By the way, I DID save 15 percent or more in 15 minutes prior to reading your email.

Regards,
Jim Patrick
Pontchartrain Press

Copyright Pontchartrain Press, 2015

Friday, November 6, 2015

Sext, Drugs And...fail

Sexting is quite the phone phenomenon. I went out with a girl, Alicia, for a short while who loved to engage in the occasional "sext" message.  I don’t think I’m very good at it actually.

One day my phone beeped and, out of the blue, there it was…a very suggestive picture from Alicia with the following caption:

“And what are YOU wearing? LOL!”

Jim Patrick:
A pair of jeans, a white tee-shirt, a belt, boxer shorts, Doc Martins and a Red Sox cap.

Alicia:
LOL! Uh, I wasn’t being literal. Did you like the pic?

Jim Patrick:
I did indeed. Can I show it to Jeff?

Alicia:
Um, NO!  So…do U have a pic to send? xoxo

Jim Patrick:
Sure…


Alicia:LoL! Who IS that???  I meant, do you have something a little more "R" Rated to send?

Jim Patrick:Oh…sorry, how bout this?

Alicia:Um…I meant more like explicit in HUMAN nature...Lol!

Jim Patrick:


Alicia:
Uh, how about we go with something a bit more daring.  Something you wouldn't just show to everyone.


Jim Patrick:
Alicia:
HAHA! Very daring…but I’m thinking more like a REAL human pic.  Something dirty. :)

Jim Patrick:


Alicia:
How about one of YOU??  Something suggestive...with YOU in it.

Jim Patrick:
Oh, now I understand...How about this?

Alicia:WTF??

Jim Patrick:
It is suggestive in that the photo “suggests” that I am about to do harm to this defenseless little kitty cat.

Alicia:
How bout we skip the pics for now and, since you’re a writer, why don’t you just write something sexy.  Cute cat btw.

Jim Patrick:
Ok, here goes... I would never, of course, do harm to a kitty cat. I love kitty cats…I enjoy petting them, loving them and kissing them.  I especially love having a kitty cat straddling my lap, by the fireplace on a chilly evening, on the sofa, on the floor, on the staircase...anyplace actually.  As kitties go, sometimes they jump off my lap after they feel that they need a break, but they always come back...sometimes three of four times.  Which is fine with me...because I am always up for accommodating the kitty cat several times per day if necessary.

Alicia:
Huh??

Jim Patrick:
That was euphemism sex-talk. Pretty good huh?  Now I'm really worked UP!  How bout U?

I don't hear from Alicia anymore...I suppose she's a dog lover.

Copyright Pontchartrain Press, 2015

Sunday, October 4, 2015

UN-Social Networking

As silly as they might be, witnessing social media meltdowns still amuse me. You know the ones I'm talking about...

Constance checked in at Taco Libre 8:30pm

Scott checked in at Wild Willie's Wangs n Thangs 8:40pm

Constance wrote: I'm not saying names but for some of u who don't like wat I'm gonna say, UNFRIEND me now.  OMG I'm sooo tired of subjecting myself to those who are evil...specially one at work. ugh.

Scott wrote: I love ppl who play victims when they screw everything that moves. #dirtyslutbucket

Constance wrote: Some ppl I know stay out getting drunk all nite.

Scott wrote: Some ppl work late because they try to make enough money so others can throw $90 away on a fucking pasta canister at Anthropologie.com

Constance wrote: At least I’m not latently homosexual. whew! LOL

Scott wrote: SOME girls appreciate sensitive guys who write poems for girls.
The earth doesn’t revolve around some ppl...even though, if they keep eating the way they do, they'll be as big as a planet soon enough.

Constance wrote: Some guys can't keep it up.

Scott wrote: Some girls need to take better personal care. #Vagisilisrightforyou

Constance wrote: I'm sooo sorry for ppl with small packages. LOL

Scott wrote: Oh yeah? Well you’re LOUSY in bed Constance!!!

Constance wrote: No I’m not…and Carlos, in accounting on the third floor, will tell you otherwise.

Scott wrote: Oh YEAH????  At least I’m not a little BITCH!!

Girl: Yes you are.

Scott wrote: Well, your best friend, Lucy from customer service, doesn't think so. ha!

Constance checked in  Wild Willie's Wangs n Thangs 9:45pm

Scott checked in at Taco Libre 9:40pm

I’m reasonably certain that office breakups surely violates some sort of OSHA safety guideline.

Copyright Pontchartrain Press, 2015

Friday, September 18, 2015

Love, Jim

Indulge me by reading on past the pic. Admittedly, I’m absolutely terrible at writing in the style of sexy, mushy, dirty or even the classic “love note.”

I dated a woman who loved the “dirty” cell phone text chats. From time to time I’d receive a random text beckoning:

“Tell me something dirty.”

Jim: Hmmm…something dirty?

Girl: YES…something dirty!

Jim: I want to f**k you.

Girl: Uh, you’re a WRITER…I meant write something sexy and suggestively dirty, using your writing skills silly.

Jim: The driving rain casts a hypnotic tympani on the roof as I lay in this bed tonight.  Nature’s spectacular show is punctuated by  brief streaks of lightening tracing the  midnight sky, illuminating your beautiful face in a soft electric blue glow. Thunder fills the air with a commanding, yet mysterious, percussive rattle on the window panes…reminding me that I really want to f**k you...right now.

Girl: Uh...Never mind. I’ll be over in a few minutes.

Jim: Can we have sex???

 I don't know the first thing about writing a love note but a few years ago I decided to give it a pencil stab for someone special after a small disagreement.  Translation: I likely said something dumb.

This is a writing exercise that my editor, my mother, my friends and any number of my college professors would have referred to as a "recipe for disaster.

 My dearest sweetheart,

I'm fully aware that I would, of course, NEVER speak that way in real life but I figured it to be inappropriate to begin a love note with ""Whassup?"

The primary reason that I opted to craft a personal love note revolves around my refusal to purchase a $4-dollar card just because I said something dumb.  I'd go broke in that eventuality.

Actually, I usually throw cards away after I read them anyway...or when a woman breaks up with me, whichever comes first.

I deeply hope that you might find it possible to forgive as I'm quite thrilled that you like to watch football and do not force me to cuddle after sex.  I also love that thing you do when you bend your upper torso downward from the side of the bed.

Actually I love numerous things about you, including the fact that you're not afraid to take a long road trip with me even though (according to a magazine article that I recently read) I fit the primary demographic and socioeconomic profile as that of a serial killer.

By the way, I would never chop you up and bury you under a heap of lyme and sod in a vacant field located miles from a state highway near a rural town in Arkansas.

What I truly want to tell you can't be fully conveyed on paper because there are, in fact, so many things that I love about our time together which would be better conveyed via 2 for 1 margaritas at Loco Libre on State street.

always,

Jim

Since I've officially given up on Hallmark, I'm gonna send some writing samples to that candy company that sells those little hearts which have the consistency of blackboard chalk, with a slight minty taste.  Here's my first draft:

copyright Pontchartrain Press 2015

Tuesday, September 15, 2015

The Old Man And The C Student

Today marks 26 years since my dad passed. Settle down...it's a celebration, in that he provided a solid foundation on which I hold  positive outlook for life to come.  For instance:

I relish the day when various gastrointestinal ailments, coupled with a neurological disease, renders me a wandering nomad, unable to properly wipe my ass without the assistance of an apathetic teenage son who’s impregnated two girls and dropped out of school after the 10th grade in order to form a band named:

“Doo Doo Jones & the Transcendental Fuck Sticks.”

Only he will not be able to correctly spell transcendental due to his lack of education.

Dad did, however, lay the bricks and mortar so that I might better understand the world around me.  What seemed nonsense 26 years ago makes perfect sense to me today.

1. Crazy people seem to possess amazing talents in that they are incredibly creative…most importantly, they are usually also extremely good in bed.

Of course, one must accept the bad with the good in that you might eventually find yourself waking to find this person standing over the bed, threatening to beat you to death with a tea kettle unless you can explain why American Idol won't force a re-match between Jordan Sparks and Blake Lewis.

2. No one can tell me what the name “Todd” is short for…not even my friend TODD! I kinda understand Jim from James and, barely, Bill from William. But HOW do you get DICK out of Richard? This, likely, didn't come out as I intended thus angering the anti same sex crowd in Kentucky.

3. As dad advised, I learned to expand my bilingual horizons. I now know how to say a dirty word in French.

4. I’ve encountered self-proclaimed, spontaneous people who follow an itinerary.  A style the old man refused.

5. It IS possible to be friends with an EX…until they find out that you’re dating someone else. (This lesson caused a considerable amount of personal property damage for a friend)

6. Walking away from an argument is indeed a good and healthy policy…so long as you destroy both cell phones, eliminating text message abilities for either party.

7. I’m still not a role model for children.

8. Under certain circumstances, giving up might just be an accomplishment.

9. It takes 5 drunken guys to change a flat tire.  Dad didn't warn me of the pitfalls of alcohol. I learned that one on my own.

10. Dad and The Surgeon General seem to be correct in their assessment that there is NO safe cigarette.

My friend, Pete, was mugged outside of a convenience store after purchasing a pack of Ultra Lights.

11. “There’s NOTHING good going on at 4am!” This was a regular assertion offered by my father when I was 17-years old. With the assistance of my lady friend, Ashleigh, we blew that theory right out of the water a few months later.

12. NEVER skirt civic duty.  A counterfeit excuse letter from the Pope will NOT get you out of criminal court jury duty…and might result in a contempt of court charge.

13. NEVER trust ANYONE who begins a sentence with “I’m not gonna lie.”

14.  It is, decidedly, not one world. Craig's List is truly a one stop shopping mecca.  In addition to finding a job, one may also find a slightly used weed eater, books, a cat, an automobile and, as evidenced in the following post, unique experiences:

"I'm alone on the couch at 253 South Scott Street.  There's a ski mask by the door on the front porch.  Put it on, come in and SHIT on me then leave...no questions asked."

What sort of questions would one ask after going to the bathroom on top of another person?  Although I have MANY questions for the person who posted this ad, I have an equal number of questions for the person who carried out the request.  However, I'm not about to visit Scott Street to ask either of them.

And, finally, one to grow (up) on...

Dad taught me that times get tough.  Your job is to be tougher or gentler. Figuring out when to be which takes common sense.

Miss you lots pops. as the French say, Merde!

hehheh.

copyright Pontchartrain Press, 2015

Saturday, August 1, 2015

MY LIfe And Other Calendar Flaws

A substantial amount of time has passed since I last contributed a writing to the fine folks at Pontchartrain Press.  

I've been doing important things over the previous months, such as devaluing journalistic integrity of a New Orleans magazine via guest contributions and returning to my longtime career path.

Actually, I blew off all writing deadlines and pretty much everything else upon learning that the Mayans had, somehow, developed a calendar with an expiration date- thus bringing about the end of the world. 

Upon receiving this alarming news, I immediately did what any logical person would do...I emailed Donald Trump, since he gets along famously with Mexicans.

Now that I think about it, the Mayans were a relatively advanced civilization whose people demonstrated brilliant innovations in applied math and writing techniques; they created topless beaches in Cancun AND the bottomless margarita.  

Constructing an incomplete calendar will forever cast a dark shadow over these impressive accomplishments as far as I'm concerned.

Their lax work ethic should also serve as a stark reminder to those who consider hiring Hispanic "Day-workers" in front of the neighborhood Home Depot and/or voting for Jeb Bush.

Example: The Mayans constructed pyramids (and my neighbor's house) which are referred to as "Ruins", while Egypt's pyramids proudly live on!**

**Note: Minor codes exceptions, as it relates to Egyptian pyramids, include isolated scorpion infestation and acts of deadly homeland terrorism in and around the neighborhood in which they are situated.

Before anyone hastily judges me as a xenophobe,  it's important to note that 
I absolutely love Hispanics...especially Salma Hayek.

Since I really have nothing of measurable importance to contribute upon my return to Pontchartrain Press, I figured it to be acceptable that I simply offer a rambling.  The piece documents a 364-day journey of self-awareness and is titled: 

                                           "Things That I've Learned"

Also known as: 

                 "I'm Glad That My Parents Aren't Alive To Witness This Shit-Show."

1. Gossip still amuses me, in that one can only WISH that half of it were true. Unfortunately, my "gossip" life is much more exciting. To clear the air, a typical day in my world, regardless of what one might hear through the grapevine, unfolds as follows:

Wake up
Have some coffee and a smoke
Go back to sleep
Watch Judge Judy
Flip between Judge Nasty and whatever baseball game is being televised
Drift off to sleep
Wake up to find that the neighbor's cat has entered my house and is laying on top of me.
Order food
Think about writing
Go back to sleep
Wake up to learn that the Red Sox lost the game
Scrap plans for writing
Feel remorse for being an ass hat to my ex
Watch Jeopardy

2. As evidenced by an aggressive fly which has invaded my house this week, stinging caterpillars on the sidewalk and a city-wide infestation of knife wielding mosquitoes and brain eating amoebas, I've learned that even the insects and organisms are thugs in New Orleans!

3. I came to know three angry gentlemen this year who are age 74, 76 and 79 respectively. If I made it that far, I would be happy to still be ALIVE. If I were able to attain an erection at that age I'd consider it an added bonus.

4. I accept the fact that I'm far from perfect, as are we all...except for Carson Daily.

Through the years there have been missteps, mistakes, errors in judgement, approximately 4-minutes, passed out (face down) in the snow, attending a Loverboy concert and downright stupidity.  

The saving grace that illuminates the road before me is to work toward reconcile, to help others when I can and to recognize every experience (good or bad) as a learning curve.

5. My friend, Doug, has apparently mastered a gardening feat in that he has grown peppers in his back yard which are so hot that they could be weaponized and sold on the black market to North Korea.

6. My neighbors are clinically insane...and usually drunk.

7.  SAVOR those in your life who you love and who love you...no matter the flaws. You'll miss them when they're gone. I promise.

8. The aftermath of hurricanes trigger incredible sale prices.

While waiting in line at the ONLY operating convenience store, thanks to generators, this is an actual transcript between me and a store customer.  It's important to note that she is a known neighborhood prostitute:

Me: Hey how ya' doin'?

Hooker: Good...it's been slow since the Hurricane passed last night.

Me: I'm sure.

(Insert awkward silence)

Hooker: So...you want a quick Bl*wjob for $20

(Insert awkward silence)

9. Me and my friend, Cornell, can indeed solve the world's problems from his front porch...until his pint of Gin runs dry and/or his wife comes out to yell at us around 3:00am. These days, thankfully, I'm the sober one.

10. The most stupid name an automaker could ever give to a car is "Yaris."

11. Monuments and flags don't kill people...assholes do.

12. My friend, Todd, is still somehow married, which teaches me that...well, it actually teaches me nothing.  Other than the fact that he's often quite intoxicated, is regularly forced to attend functions which include in-laws who are also regularly intoxicated as nephews and nieces run around in circles screaming as though they are running from the scene of an ISIS attack. 

13. Words are more powerful than many people realize. I need to measure mine more often.

14. The Hot Tamale candy machine at an establishment in New Orleans is broken and dispenses candy with no money required. I will NOT be naming this establishment in the interest of greed.

15. Mike, the editor, recently paid me a compliment!  Which confirms that, no matter what YOUR doctor says, Adderall IS indeed right for him.

16. I learned nothing during my downtime about soccer.

17. No matter what you might think, there is absolutely NO way to look cool while driving a mini-van.

18. An inordinate amount of attractive women in New Orleans jog at 6am.

19. I hope I don't look like a creepy dude at 6am.

19. Creative appreciation is in the eye of the beholder.  For instance, I recently suggested that a friend, who's trying to come up with a name for his band, call themselves:  

"Tom Selleck's Moustache"  

Against protest, my suggestion was flatly rejected.

20. All cell phones are different, so make sure to do your research before making the purchase.  example: In the past, mine sent out random, idiotic texts after about 4 Irish whiskeys.

21. I learned that, sometimes, it can be an impossible mission to cheer up a friend or loved one and that it's best to leave well enough alone so that they might handle it in their own way, as painful as it might be.

I boldly look to the future and fondly ruminate on the past...except for a creepy moment at age nine. Every time I get into a van that smells like cotton candy and cigars I piss myself. Long story.

It wasn't easy being a kid...and not much easier as an adult but, growing older DOES bring one perk: discounts.  I understand that the neighborhood "working girl" is running a birthday special.

copyright Pontchartrain Press, 2015

AUTHOR NOTE: This piece is dedicated to Kristi, who tolerated me despite tough times and set me back on a smarter, healthier road. Truly the love of my life.

Thursday, July 9, 2015

aaaargh...Get To The Chopper!

Okay...the previous tease for a new piece was preempted due to our coming to grips with how Kim Kardashian STILL managed to install herself into the Caitlin Jenner story.

I promise the new one is  ready, just as soon as Donald Trump gives the ok. It will, hopefully, make you smile, possibly solve the Greek financial problem and likely prompt you to kick my testicles

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Stay Tuned...

A new article coming soon.  Just been waiting for Comcast to install high speed Internet into the cardboard box under the bridge.