Get Metsmerized, Stupid!

As if you needed proof that Howard Johnson was the single greatest rapper of his era... And don't sleep on Rafael Santana's broken-English flow, lest you deny yourself pure heat.

Your boy's honored to be a part of the annual Hobart baseball issue- check out "Spinning Yarns," a flash fiction piece about a fibbing knuckleballer, here. Many thanks to Aaron and company for making the bullpen call on this one. And big ups to the 2010 Cubbies, recent recipients of Tim Kurkjian's "they might be okay" seal of approval.

TGIGF

It's only fitting that, today being Good Friday and all, I've got JC on the brain. I'm of course speaking of Jimmy Christmas, the titular deceased hero of "Jimmy Christmas is Dead," my latest offering (read it here, at Wigleaf). An examination of grief and suburban cheesecake the whole family will enjoy. Many thanks to Scott for the nod- feel a bit like Christian Laettner on the Dream Team, as in "not sure how I got here but happy as shit that I did."

Happy Easter/Belated Pesach.

Jumping the Shark

You know you've hit your nadir at work when you're jonesing for actual responsibility over internet horseplay. I'm with Garfield on this one: fuck Mondays.

New light reading up at Retort, a yarn by the name of "Fonzi." And I'd be remiss not to extend propers to the real Fonzi, a clerk at the Shell station on the corner of Foster and Western and my muse for this tale of high school alienation.

Check it out here.

You've Won First Prize in a Beauty Contest

Leave it to Reebok to serve up some truly outlandish sneaks. Picturing box upon box of these bad boys ascending Soulja Boy's and/or Warren Buffett's walk-in closets. Club crispy.

Let's get down to brass tacks- fresh words up at The Citron Review, a ditty called "Marvin Gardens":

http://thecitronreview.wordpress.com/2010/03/11/marvin-gardens/

An ode to the posh palaces of Southwest Suburban Chicago, home to Bernie Mac, Jerry Springer, and Mr. T at various points in their respective career trajectories. Oh, and yours truly too, minus the posh. Thanks to Aaron at TCR for the love.

Death and Pointy Hats

These dudes just got the memo:

"Dear Sirs,

Your country no longer exists.

Yours,

The Future"

NANO Volume 3.2 is hot off the presses (sort of). Therein lies "Two Dead Prussians," by yours truly:

http://nanofiction.org/?page_id=17

If you read only one historical fiction piece about a syphillitic mayor gone haywire this year, make it this one. And, pick up previous issues of NANO while you're at it- a great mix of young bucks and veterans helping put Screwston lit on the map.

Let Me Lick You Up and Down 'Til You Say Stop

Today being Our Nation's Day of Love, there's little time for chit-chat. There are desserts to be savored and special ladies to freak. So, stock up on Mr. Bubble and Tott's and get at it.


New shit to read at Zygote in My Coffee:


http://www.zygoteinmycoffee.com/100s/issue129stuffweshouldhave.html

This is the first piece of mine to be accepted for publication, way back in August of Ought Nine. Now I know what dads feel like on Graduation Day.

Are You Reasonably-Prepared for Some (American) Football?

Someone once said that history that is written by the victors. Apparently, the '88 Eagles never got that memo, as I'm pretty sure the Redskins took Super Bowl XXII. Still, they managed to compose "Buddy's Watching You," arguably just below "The Super Bowl Shuffle" on the football-rap depth chart. The Eagles crew do take first-prize in the Most Coogi Sweaters and/or Kool Moe Dee Leather Get-Ups in One Video category, however.

In the spirit of Sunday's Super Bowl XLIV, read "The Day I Went Temporarily Blind," a story that has absolutely nothing to do with football, just posted at IsGreaterThan:

http://isgreaterthan.net/2010/02/the-day-i-went-temporarily-blind/

Paul and company are gaining momentum and quietly putting together one of the most ambitious mags in Chicago, a city full of 'em. (Insert Shameless Plug #37 for Michael Zapata's "Last Evenings on Earth" column. Full disclosure: he's my boy.)

Super Bowl Prediction: Drew Bress is pulled in the fourth quarter and replaced by Bobby Hebert's twelve-year old son, Mitch, in one of the most confounding substitutions in NFL history.