• Happy Holidays to My Wife


    We fell in love because of writing. Emails, filled with thousands of words, back and forth across the Atlantic Ocean. It didn’t start as love; neither one of us was looking for it. It just happened.

  • An Atheist and a Gentleman


    The right wing idiots, the ones who label themselves Christians, have really gone and done it this time. Mike Huckabee, some guy from the “American Family Association,” and I’m sure many others, have made sure to tell all of America exactly why mass shootings, like the one in Newtown on Friday, occur.

  • In Which I Get Entirely Too Personal


    I’ve spent years thinking I’m a pretty damn good writer. Years of assuming that the only reason no one has paid me to be a writer in real life or recognized my genius is because I haven’t tried hard enough to really put it out there and/or because everyone else is just too oblivious to know quality when they see it. I once thought I was just so fucking amazing because someone told me that I had a way with words and I responded, “Sometimes it feels like words have their way with me.”

  • Why I’m Leaving Facebook


    I wish it could be more deep and meaningful and eloquent than this, but the fact is that it comes down to three words: I hate Republicans. Hate everything about their pompous, holier-than-thou attitude. Hate everything for which they stand. More importantly, I love virtually everything they’re against.

  • Funerals for Babies


    Sometimes when I’m doing mundane things, I think about all the people all over the world who are dying in that exact moment. I can’t help it. There are billions of people on the planet, so statistically there are lots and lots of them dying every second.

  • Out of (Gun) Control


    Last week, six people were shot to death while at church. There’s a good chance you’re reading this and had no idea the incident even occurred. After all, it didn’t happen at a midnight screening of a blockbuster Hollywood film. It didn’t involve costumes. And only six people died.