Hey gang – long time, no see.  Apologies for that.  But not really, cause you don’t care, right?  You do?  Well, fine, then I guess we’ll just agree to disagree.  No really, let’s just…  Look…  Why do you always do this?   I can’t even talk to you anymore.  Yes.  Yes of course I love you.  It’s why I drink.  Cause I love you so much.  It’s your fault.

Anyway, so I finally finished a new short story.  It took me a while to get through this one – lack of free time and all that – but hopefully the stretched out writing time frame doesn’t detract too much from the tale  (it does).  The story fits in with my favorite themes of… chant it with me… alcoholism, nihilism, death!  Ok, not really too much on the booze part, but the narrator is a bartender, so there’s that, I guess.  This is my attempt at a ghost story, but it ended up being more of a telling of murder and claustrophobia.  Or something like that.   It’s a bit long, I admit, but if you’re bored and looking for something to read, I suggest printing out the pdf and taking it with you to the can.  Or maybe sit down with a glassful of absynthe and a pipe full of opium, and get your Poe on.  Just kidding.   Just roll around in a pile of catnip, you playful little kitten. Meow, you dirty thing.  Aren’t you cute?  I hate you.  Sorry, I’m drinking my latest batch of homebrew – my “John McClane All-American IPA” and should probably not be typing right now.

So what were we talking about?  Oh yes, the story.  Here you go -  you can read it here on the blog, or download the pdf.

I’ve got a couple more stories that I intend to kick out next.  One is about a creep at a bar, another is about auto-erotic asphyxiation.  Write what you know about, so sayeth Mark Twain.  And by “what you know about”, I mean “what YOU know about.”  Creep.  Get some help.

Ok, now I’m just getting annoying.  I’m going to bed.  Sweet dreams and sleep screams, my friends.