After people get to know me a little bit, one of the most common questions I am asked is, “How did you get into my apartment again, and why are there high definition cameras installed in my panty drawer?” No, wait, I was thinking of the other question: “Where do you run into all these weird characters you’re always talking about?” I’ve got a lot of stories, and it seems that more than a few of them involve people who are kind of odd ducks, so I guess that it makes sense that people wonder if I’ve been hanging out by the local sanitarium, or maybe I just like to spritz people with liquid LSD to make them a little more interesting. The answer, of course, is a little bit of both. Continue reading

I pulled up to a red light the other day and the car next to me had the windows down and was absolutely blasting music. The guy sitting in the driver’s seat was rocking the fuck out, drumming his hands on the steering wheel, banging his head, and generally enjoying himself some goddamn RAWK. Nothing wrong with that, except that he was listening to Billy Joel. Yeah. You go, you fucking wild man. I’ll be honest with you, if he had reached down, picked a scab off of his taint and eaten it, it would not have lowered my opinion of him at that moment in time. Not in the slightest. Dude, Billy Joel?!? Continue reading

My first experience with head shops came when I was 18 years old, a recently graduated high school student who was working hard over the summer to save up money for college. Or at least that’s what I told my parents I was saving the money for. In reality, more than a little of that money was set aside for something that I considered to be more important, namely beer and weed. (If that isn’t classic 18 year old thinking, I don’t know what is. What’s even funnier is that we allow 18 year olds to vote. How Bob Marley was never elected President is one of life’s enduring mysteries.) Continue reading

I’m learning Spanish. I’ve known some Spanish for a while now, of course. It’s pretty much mandatory if you live in Arizona or have ever spent time in Mexico. But what I knew was limited to the crucial terms: Where are the bathrooms?; Another beer, please; Where is the nearest house of ill repute? You know, the basics. But now I’m learning Spanish in a more formal sense because my daughter isn’t. Continue reading

Over the weekend, friends of mine fairly fell all over themselves emailing me news that Robert Plant turned down a $800 million offer to go on tour with Led Zeppelin. I, of course, did not need to be told this “news”, because I am plugged directly into the rock and roll zeitgeist, by which I mean I’ve been lurking in the bushes outside of Robert Plant’s house. (It’s not as exciting as you would imagine, to be honest. Hardly anything happened at all today. David Coverdale came by to clean the pool, but that was it.) Continue reading

A coworker of mine is getting married in a few months and having the ceremony take place on the edge of the Grand Canyon. That’s pretty brave, if you think about it. Anytime someone can get married and instantly collect on a life insurance policy with a well timed shove you have to ask yourself just how much you trust that other person. A bad marriage is supposed to ruin your life, after all, not end it immediately. Also, advice such as, “Be careful,” and “Watch your step” is more effective when given well in advance of a wedding, and not after you’ve committed. Continue reading

For the second time in ten days, we’ve got a hurricane blowing through town. In Phoenix. In the middle of the desert. What the fuck? Not that I’m complaining, mind you. It’s September, and while the rest of the country has moved on from summer, our daily temperatures are still in the “ball-searing” range, so an overcast day in the low 90’s is a welcome change. We walk around outside, remark on the weather to friends and coworkers, and then we take advantage of the lull to apply another layer of ablative material to our underwear, because by the time the week is over we’ll be back to burning our genitalia on car seats again. Continue reading

My kids and I played a game of Bounce or Fly after dinner tonight, and each time my eight year old son took his turn kicking, he’d offer me a high five. Jesus, I can’t remember the last time I was involved in something so forced and awkward. The two of us might be the whitest people on the face of the planet. We’re “Shopping At The Gap” White. “Fluffernutter On Wonder Bread” White. How white are we? We’re “Tiger Woods” White. Continue reading

When I first moved to the Phoenix area, I devised a unique way of learning my way around town. These days learning a new town isn’t that difficult. You simply ask your smartphone where to go, and it guides you there, turn by turn. I’m pretty sure that this is all part of a sinister plot and one day we will all find ourselves being told to turn left into a giant lava-filled hole, but frankly I’m ok with that just as long as I never have to fold up a fucking road map again. Continue reading

I signed up for a writing class the other night. Now I know what you’re thinking: You’re thinking, “But Greg, you don’t need to learn how to write!” And of course you’re right. No one knows how to make goodly words on the screen like me does. But there was a very specific skill that I wanted to learn (how to write effective ransom notes), and I figured that it might be fun to take a class on the subject. It’d be like going to college again, only this time I’d actually attend the class rather than stay home drinking beer out of paint buckets. Continue reading