She winked at me. I average about eight of these per year, none worth following up – except this one. She was a skinny 27-year-old blonde who wrote at the bottom of her page “If I dig your profile and you dig mine, let’s cut the bs and just meet up. I don’t need another pen pal.” I said I dug her profile, and we agreed to meet for lunch that Sunday.
It was Saturday night going on Sunday and the streets of Williamsburg were crackling with rain and laughter. I was in a fourth floor apartment…
Twenty-two miles off the coast of Southern California lays a hidden gem in America: Catalina Island. Technically it’s part of California, but anyone who’s ever…
Ladies, and some exceptional gentleman, I recently fulfilled a childhood dream. Are you sitting down? I picked wild flowers, fashioned them into a crown and…
Due to my mom’s hatred for wild and ruthless confrontation, she never exposed me to the toothless sport of hockey. The one time I attempted…
My rocket scientist father and my social worker mother produced me, a rocket brain social idiot. People could blame it on “middle child” syndrome or…
WAYNE WORLDS COLLIDE A)n outline to an essay I started, originally titled “WAYNE WORLDS COLLIDE… The Hipster Economy of Cool and its effects on/interplay with…
Four of my friends planned their owns deaths. Two of which acted as my mentors, encouraging me to be the best I can be, to…
– Mention Merle Haggard and Hank Williams for credibility. – Remind people of things they’re familiar with – like Budlight and Jesus. –…
About a month ago, my friend Jim invited me to a PUA (pick-up artist) seminar. “I’m going to this thing in two weeks, I think you should come.” he stated, pulling up an ad reading “Casanova Convention” on his laptop. “Seats are filling up fast,” he warned, letting the cursor blink in the quantity section. I’d like to say I refused, but I had no excuse. Having read “The Game,” I was curious. I told him to make it two.
