Author: Ben Raskin

There’s been way too much excitement regarding the nationwide release of pumpkin favored products. From coffee to motor oil, tampons to cakes, you can’t throw a rock in a crowded hospital without hitting something with pumpkin flavor in it. When did America lose its collective mind over a gourd? The only good thing you get…

Jeff Buckley. Mein Fuhrer. Roy Schneider. Born Under a Bad Sign. Balloon payment. Wrigley Field. Bad dog, bad dog. We spent the rest of the evening engaged in group sex with Buzz Aldrin taking turn satisfying Stan, Donna and me. I had no more tears to shed and I felt hollow and violated. There was…

I knew it was a dream—mostly because I’ve had this dream about a hundred times. I’m standing outside an old craftsman house that’s on the corner of Pine and Elm. There’s a wraparound porch filled with people whose faces are distorted. It’s not scary, just off putting that I can’t see any of their facial…

It occurred to me that I haven’t shaved in almost four days. I’m usually pretty good about grooming. I like to have a fresh pair of drawers on everyday with a clean undershirt and socks. I’m okay wearing the same slacks or jeans the next day and if my collared shirt isn’t too dirty, I…

It was outside of Elko when things began to fall apart. Ernie’s beady eyes were glazed over the steering wheel with his foot pushing the accelerator to the floor. LBJ and Walt were still passed out in the backseat, sawing logs with Walt’s occasional sleep apnea uncorking a cannonball of spit and phlegm as he…