Tag Archives: memoir

My Early Years of Apathetic Something Part 5: More Mob Stories and a Clown Suit

(Continuing my Confessions.) The Chess Club had slowed down and JJ just sat in the mostly empty room, telling more stories about the gym. “Did I ever tell you about Lydia Plowman?” “No.” “She’s this girl who worked out at the gym. She had a boyfriend who was the grandson of some really big mob […]

My Early Years of Apathetic Something Part 4: I Ate a Lot of Cheese and Got Home at 6am

(Excerpted from my unfinished opus From the Belly of the Other Thing: Letters From Places That Aren’t Prison. Pt. 1. Pt. 2. Pt. 3) I met two women who lived down the hall. They’d both come to college from the same small town in Indiana and had worked at a coin-op laundromat in a strip […]

My Early Years of Apathetic Something Part 3: Bad Blind Dates and the Poker Table

(This part 3 of an excerpt from My Life and Harder Times. Pt. 1. Pt. 2) I tried to date again. I met a woman in one of my journalism classes. Her name sounded vaguely like an item on the Taco Bell menu but I couldn’t remember which item. I seemed able to gauge my […]

My Early Years of Apathetic Something Part 2: Chess, Fried Chicken, and the NJ Mafia

(Part 2 of Further Beneath the Underdog: A Fictional Autobiography. Pt. 1 here.) After this life ends, there’s a special circle of hell reserved for writers. In this circle they spend eternity living the lives of all their fictional characters, and the ones that appeared in the non-fiction pieces twice. I sometimes have dreams I’ve […]

The Man Who May Have Been the Gerber Baby

(This is a selection from my as yet-unpublished fictional memoir “The Great Poet of Garbage”. Enjoy.) There were rumors, millings about, theories, whispers, whispers that he may have been, possibly was, had hidden his past as the Gerber Baby. No one was sure. But no one mentioned him without mentioning that. Someone in town whose […]

All In All We Liked the Bomb Threats

(This is an excerpt from my as yet unpublished and somewhat fictional memoir, The Great Poet of Garbage. If this piques your interest and you’d like to see more, please get in touch in the comments. There’s way more where this came from.) The assignment was to build a bridge out of popsicle sticks that […]