Crotchety Old Man in The Woods

I’m in a rant of a mood today.  Most of my days are very simple, work then go home, maybe a writing group then bed.  It’s a simple, quiet life most of the time.

That might seem like a boring existence but I’ve found that it’s really the only way I can keep my sanity.  Days like today, when I have writing group and have to be semi-social remind me why I stay away from people.  They’re fucking stupid, irritating, rude, condescending, hipsters, soccer moms, and douche bags, all running around as though they’re doing something important between checking their phone and bragging about how much they overpay for stuff they don’t need.  The level of pretentiousness is overwhelming.

I’m at Whole Foods, if you hadn’t guessed that already.  It’s an annoyingly convenient location for this writing group but simply walking through the aisles to get a bottle of water before the meeting is enough to make me want to swear off humanity forever. Continue reading


I’ve been in a weird place for the last couple weeks.  A quiet, introspective place.  I haven’t even been writing much, for the blog anyway, just putting up old drafts that were written months ago.  This afternoon I was watching some stupid sitcom on TV about divorce and getting married again.  The show was nothing remarkable but it did manage to dredge up a few memories.

When the couple was splitting up their belongings the soon-to-be ex-wife pulled a strange bowl out of one of their boxes.  It was an ugly ceramic nacho bowl shaped like a sombrero.  It was one of those novelty items, something a tourist would pick up on for five dollars on a trip to Mexico.  In the show it was only on screen for a second, it wasn’t even a conversation piece, but I about had a heart attack when I saw it. Continue reading

Sunday Morning Craziness

I have a wonderful, wonderful dog.  Mostly.  She’s definitely a personality.  Most of the time we get along great, but one of her less endearing traits is her punctuality.  You see, during the week we go for our morning walk before I leave for work, which is really early in the morning.  This means that on the weekend she expects us to keep this schedule.  No matter what.

So, every Saturday and Sunday morning I’m woken at an ungodly hour by a whining, insistent, nuzzling nose.  She does not care how late I was up the night before, nor how many alcoholic beverages were consumed, nor how hungover and exhausted I am.  When it’s time to go, it’s time to go, and I’ve learned the hard way not to ignore my doggy alarm clock. Continue reading