Author’s note: This is Part V of a multi-part series. For an optimal reader experience, it’s best to read Part I, Part II, Part III, and Part IV first. After all this talk about costume accuracy, I’m confused about the guy at the table in the corner who wears a half-assed tunic and a pair …
Author’s note: This is Part IV of a multi-part series. For an optimal reader experience, it’s best to read Part I, Part II, and Part III first. After a final makeup check and assembly of Nick’s double-edged light saber, it’s time to hit the floor. Patrons are already streaming into the main lobby; some of whom are …
Author’s note: This is Part III of a multi-part series. For an optimal reader experience, it’s best to read Part I and Part II first. We arrive at the museum and I meet a few of Nick’s fellow Legionnaires in the parking lot. They’re all in their late 30s or early 40s and are, to …
It started with two blue lines. Two blue lines resulting from bodily fluids reacting with a chemical strip. Melinda came into the bedroom, beaming, pushing this piss-soaked stick into my face. “Look, look,” she said. I had seen this exact scene play out in countless romantic comedies and sitcom plots over the years. It was …
Author’s note: This is Part II of a multi-part series. For an optimal reader experience, it’s best to read Part I first. It’s rainy and in the 50s as I go to pick up Nick, by far the gloomiest and coldest day of the fall thus far. I’m tired and considering ditching the whole thing, …
It is 8:30 on a Saturday morning in October, and I am in my Pathfinder on my way to the Marine Corps Museum in Quantico, Virginia. Sitting next to me in the passenger seat is my friend Nick. At a red light, Nick tells me to pull level with the car next to us. “Let …
Author’s note: This is Part III of a three-part series. For an optimal reader experience, read Part I and Part II first. I’d like to say I saw the train wreck that was in my immediate future as I exited my mother’s station wagon at the curb of Wilson’s house, but I did not. I …
Author’s note: This is Part II of a three-part series. For an optimal reader experience, read Part I first. I’m a little fuzzy on what JWO stood for. I’m pretty sure it stood for “Junior Wrestling Organization,” but it’s totally possible it stood for “Juggalo World Order,” which is what just came up when I …
One of the self-deprecating jokes I make when I introduce myself to someone for the first time is that I peaked in high school. I say it not because I think it’s true, but that it demonstrates I have a sense of irony and perspective on the world not found in all humans. In my …
Holy crap, this is my 30th post. Since November, I’ve birthed 62,300 words out into the great abyss of the internet. That’s a couple fewer words than The Sun Also Rises; 16k more than ol’ Scotty wrote in The Great Gatsby. While it would be the humble thing to say I write for myself, that …
I Don't Belong Here. 