Ah, nice of you to stop by. Be warned, though, that you’ve caught me in the master bath, where I’m currently giving birth to a particularly onerous bowl movement while perusing the morning news reports. What can I say? I… Read More ›
Syphilis
D Is For Druggist
I’d been waiting around the parking lot of a local McDonald’s for a good fifteen minutes when my black-market prescription-medication procurer Skynyrd Dave finally arrived. He was driving a bright-yellow ‘70s-era Camaro with severe muffler issues, Nazareth’s “Hair of the… Read More ›
S. Truett Cathy Is A Seriously Deranged Individual
I had to go into the city on business yesterday — legitimate venture capitalism business, thank you — and decided to grab lunch at the Metropolitan Club. Not to brag, but I’m a legacy member. In fact, my maternal great-grandfather, Tobias… Read More ›
