Lance Rules

So i made some more crap. One of the craps is even bike-related. Whoa, dewds. Maybe you wanna check it out.
HAWK DO ART

This guy did the after party, which was rad, because I have a total mancrush on him, and he KILLS the turntables. You may not care about that kind [...]

Let me preface this super long story for those of you that don’t really like to read. I was a male stripper for a night.

Man, in my ever-continuing search for my birth dad, I keep running across dudes that, because of their ridiculous cool factor, make me think, “Hmmmm. Maybe that’s my dad…”
this week’s winner:

Well, if my calculator watch serves me correctly, I believe it’s Thursday. Time for a poem. Perhaps, first you have time for a quick story.
Working here at this gallery of art and other pop-culture curiosities, I rarely encounter a customer worth much at all. I mean, we have our regulars: the [...]

Well, here it is, a beautiful Labor Day in North Carolina. The hurricane weather has decided to chill out long enough to let come to the surface a cool, sunny day. Work is done, and as I drove home, the smell of grilling was everywhere. There’s nothing I’d love more than to [...]

Well,
it’s
time.
It’s
been
3
long
days.
As
I
stand
here,
the
knife
in
my
hand
shorter than the one in my brain,
I realize
that
I
really
need
to
get
back
to
the sauce.

Oh yeah, the Tour de France. Crunk Cyclist seems to capture the attention of many different kinds of thinkers, so I’d like to talk for a bit, and direct this mainly at what I believe to be the source of the problem: the people who watch.
In the recent past, let’s say 10 years, I [...]

Here’s an interesting KCRW interview centering on the jerkwad doctor that tried to some bros on July 4th. It’s worth a listen anyway. Go America.
laist.com/…kcrw_looks_into_bicyling_in_a_car

I was gonna write a Thursday poem, but it occurred to me in the nick of time that this is Friday. What that tells me is that it’s time to get back to the sauce. I’m out of here in 19 minutes. I’m bee lining straight to a thinly padded round stool [...]

Hey Dewdz.
I’ve been spending a couple of days, or a week, or something, getting my head back on straight. There was an art opening. It was rad, and lots of stuff sold. There were visitors in from out of town for an entire week following. Good times flowed like whiskey, and [...]

Eyes like donut holes.
Legs quivering, empty flask.
Pork rinds in my ears.
But Jonny is fine.
Cottage cheese in pantyhose,
jiggling as he laughs.

the valley grew dark
suddenly, as big jonny
went back to the fridge.

Hey, okay. This is where it starts for me, my foray into the gang of cruel hustlers. I’ve got my shirt off, bitches. And the A/C is on. Where’s the continuity here? Soon you’ll learn, if you haven’t already, that I possess continuity in ever-waning amounts. Detritus of a boozy past (and future) tend to [...]

Thundering planet
a ham hock in a tube sock
juan grand rides again

The vast faction of North American kitsch lovers have adored its image for decades. As a young buck, I remember my folks’ nauseated reaction to the sighting of one during many a subdevelopment egress. The image of which i speak is none other than the North American Yard Flamingo. Long associated with [...]

Today I arose, well sort of,
with a moist brain,
a hole in my upper jaw
where a molar used to live,
and a burning urgency.
I got there in time, to the toilet, then the bus.
work is killing me,
to the point of writing poetry
and soothing the pain of extraction
with a god damn smoothie.
at least I brought my crossword puzzles. [...]

I think i went to the beach last weekend. Apparently it was killer.

I just got back from a little trip to the Left Side, LA to be specific, Venice to pinpoint it. I went with the main objective of shredding jerks with my laser eyes, however this mission was curbed the second I saw my girl Allison at the airport hopping up and down to peep over [...]

Greetings, Rapscallions. I’d like to present for the readers, my latest tale. It’s miserably brisk, and painfully uncomplicated. I’ll put it to you like this: Brooklyn sucks. Durham is Rad. Not to ruin the ending, but the Scallywag gets nicked. I need a beer.
Chapter 1

The Middle

The [...]