Weak-willed and lame-brained, The unfun have spurned positive change. Their aversion to adversity, Yet desire for control, Has drawn a fevered pitch, Unsightly to behold. A decade ago, The world seemed hopeful and vibrant, But thanks to the unfun, It’s now ruled by unruly tyrants. An apocalyptic hellscape, Is exactly…

He was the best bartender in all of Hell. Dirty martinis up with their olives drowned in brine. Khvanchkara wine at the exact temperature Stalin liked it. He’s served dictators and despots, Wall Street and The White House. …

Creighton Marshall was nearly a professional quarterback, and nearly a pro of any stripe. Known as the Babe Ruth of Unsanctioned Adult Football, Creighton Marshall ate excessively and drank recklessly, and punished undersized men every Sunday with his 295-pound frame. Marshall played ball at West Virginia, but could never cut…

What’s he saying? What does he mean? When Waffle Man speaks, he speaks evasively. There are two sides to every truth and he’ll make you believe all three. Talking in tones of treble constant, consistent throughout delivery. A scholar of linguistics and brewer of yeast, Waffle Man shares his interests…

With wide-set wheels and impeccable handling, one thing was understood in my family — Don’t touch Daddy’s Subaru. The paint was Hunter Green because Daddy was a customizer. He had this Subaru specially ordered. The time from purchase to delivery rivaled a mother elephant’s gestation. “Don’t touch Daddy’s Subaru” —…

Ever since 2010 all I’ve ever wanted was Standard Enchantment. Nothing too radical, nothing too new A story that’s practical, A tale tried-and-true. Show me the superhero’s journey As foretold by IP, And move me with their struggle Once China approves their scenes. Show me two-minute trailers Fifteen times before…

Only five feet from grill to fender, this little red tractor was more than a little dangerous. …

Perhaps the universe is forcing us to become our inherent selves and there are lessons we must learn, truths we must unlock. Or perhaps that’s a crock of shit and pre-decided. Either way you gotta play your hand and ride it. All the way. Until your terminal destination is determined…

He didn’t have the hands of Clapton Nor the pipes of Frampton But deep down, Matt Hampton knew he could play. His work ethic was medieval Playing hand-me-down strings And banging hand-me-down things, An autodidact like all the greats. The Great Matt Hampton The genius you never heard For Matt never made the leap, Playing instruments on the cheap, Ten hours a day in the ‘burbs. His fingers blistered