J doesn’t suffer all the comments laid down like bear traps to drag him down to their level.

J knows he is no Michael Jackson but enjoys the sound of his voice and the attention, even if it is in the form of ‘fag’ and ‘retard’ and ‘8====D~~~’.

J has learned to live with such people.

Anyone can publish a novel these days, but not all novels are created equal. Winslow definitely thinks he has what it takes to be a successful author. Better get Ben’s opinion, first!

It’s quiet out there. Too quiet. Dust devils spin like drunken dervish dancers and scraggly tumbleweeds cartwheel through desolate streets. You lean back on your chair outside the front door of Miss Kitty’s and listen to the tinkling honky tonk piano, waiting for something, anything, to happen. A red headed stranger appears out of nowhere, riding bareback on a lean and hungry, spotted feral mustang named Cassius.

A month or so ago I was feeling queasy, and my wife brought home some Gatorade in case I starting throwing up all over the place. Thankfully, I didn’t throw up, but I drank the Gatorade anyway. It claimed to be “Fierce Grape” flavored, but it tasted like regular old docile grape to me.

You know what’s truly scary? The fact that the birth control pill is only 99.9% effective. Wait, that means that one in a thousand times I should get pregnant anyway, right? That’s not really very heartening. If I entered a contest to win a car and the odds were one in a thousand, I would think, hey, I’ve got a pretty decent chance of winning this car. Except that car is an unwanted fetus!