Skip to main content


In one of my books, I'm gonna have a snarky lad of Irish descent.

There will come a time in this book when he has to impart some wisdom...some deep secret of his past. And in that conversation will be the following passage...

"Well of course I've got demons, son. We've all got demons. Every one of us. But I faced mine a long time ago and did what any Irishman worth his salt would do."

"What's that?"

"I got mine drunk, told them they could sleep it off until morning, but they had to feck off before the missus woke up or she'd be good and proper pissed and give them what for."

"That worked?"

"Son, have you met my old lady? You bet your ass it worked."

I'm not sure when that book will be written, but there's a good chance it will be autobiographical in nature.

Oh, and congratulations if you actually found this post of your own accord. I don't always post little pointers on MyFaceSpaceTube to my updates. Sometimes I just like to write shit out here. For a couple of reasons...I don't always want to seem self serving and needy by saying 'I wrote, go read it'  But I also wanted to just write for me. And, well, you. It's like an easter egg on the DVD menu. You have to actually be intentional about looking for it.

And I think that's what's missing from our daily lives these days. The intentionality. I didn't really mean for this to turn in to a rant. I really just wanted to write that clever bit about the Irishman who got his demons drunk and it didn't really seem to fit in with everyone's gushing over the Grammys.

I couldn't give two fucks about the Grammys.

You want an award for making music? Start a band. Play some gigs. Have people other than your immediate friends and family pay money to come see you because they want to. That's all the fucking award you need.  Fuck all this ego-stroking and posturing. Get out there and make some fucking music already.


Alright, now I am going to bed. I have been avoiding it because I know when I wake up, I'll have to go to Queens job site. And there's still no heat. But hey...they flew me out to finish the job. So fuck it all. I really did try to write 'feck' but apparently that gives my MacBook's auto-correct (or perhaps Google's auto-correct) fits and it keeps trying to substitute 'deck' instead.





Popular posts from this blog

Marriage Material??

I had a friend call me today, fuming. I consider myself a good listener on most days. Considering that I was out of town on a work trip and doing absolutely nothing in my hotel room, my listening game was on-point.

She recounted the exchange that sent her off. I will spare you some of the more personal details, but the gist was, at one point, the dude-bro she was talking to flat out told her that she wasn’t marriage material.

Torn between wanting to be a supportive friend and being completely gobsmacked, I felt her frustration. No. That’s not quite right. I didn’t feel the same frustration she felt. I’m approaching what some consider middle age. I’m white. I’m primarily interested in women. Oh, and I have a penis., I can never truly feel the same frustration she was feeling. Or an anger that comes from the same place her anger came from. No matter how in touch I am witn my feminine side (whatever the fuck that actually means).

Instead, the frustration and anger I was feeling w…

Out of Sorts

Not sure what my deal is today. I got up this morning to go for a walk and it was spitting rain, but no biggie. My thriftstore Nikes were kind of hurting my feet, so that didn't help. But it felt good to go for the walk (other than the hurting feet). And it's all going well...and then I get into work and just turn into PMS-Man.  I don't know what my deal is. I just feel bitchy this morning and I'm not sure why. Yeah. That's all I got.

Post Con-Fusion

It's 5:40 AM on a Wednesday. I have been up for an hour. I have an outline for a work in progress that I intended to work on this morning. I was in the middle of a chapter that I started at lunch and had every intention of continuing this morning. But, much like me, it seems the characters wanted to sleep in today. They wanted to just hunker under the covers as the rain danced its hypnotic melody on my roof. The swoosh swoosh swoosh of the ceiling fan keeping time with the rest of the nocturnal orchestra.

So, I shifted gears. I am taking  a course on getting more words on the page. Something that I want to do need to do if I am to get all of these books that are floating around in my head out in to the world. It's not so much that I think the whole world will love and adore them, although I certainly hope that is the case. No, it's more the fact that it's getting crowded up there. I need to get these words on the page for my own sanity as much as anything else.