Right brain

I’ve moved my poems, short stories, and other creative works to the Right brain category. I want this site’s content to be driven by the blog posts (the blog functions as a database) rather than static pages. If you are looking for something, use the search function in the sidebar menu. Artwork and some other […]

Gnarl them potaters

Restaurants like this one don’t normally have maitre’des. When given his baked potato, Ernie began to mash it with his fork. “Gaa!” screamed the busboys. “Gaa!” cried the waiters. “Gaa!” said the maitre’de, “Gnarl them potaters!” November 4, 1999. Inspired by a comment made to me at lunch in college.

Burn, baby, burn (disco inferno)!

Dale finished pouring gasoline around the discotheque. When he dropped the match, the building burned in all the fabulous colors of the seventies (like orange and avocado green). Something exploded deep within the building and Dale was cut in half by a flying piece of a giant disco-ball. November 4, 1999