You don’t have to travel to the far reaches of the galaxy to find weird caterpillar kingdoms.  You could just take a bike ride.

I had to abandon Booger the ’99 Subaru Legacy Outback.  The strut towers had more rust than the Lusitania and the brake line made quite a fascinating wheeze when you hit the brake pedal.  I liked to pretend that they were air brakes, because the lines certainly weren’t filled with any type of fluid. Read the rest of this entry »

Up until this afternoon, I had one tattoo: a heart on my left ring finger to show, in a Roman pre-Vesalian way, how much I covet mine own wife.

Starting at around 4:45pm Eastern Time, that changed. Read the rest of this entry »

If you watch my activity on Facebook or Twitter you may have seen me mention Booger, the 1999 Subaru Legacy Outback.  We go back together a long way, all the way to June 2012 when I bought her off of a cool dude who lived in the woods and taught me to drive stick.  She was also the only other witness to that time that I slashed my finger open with a knife while prying the Subaru badge off of her grille. Read the rest of this entry »

Disclaimer: Mr. Brenton and I have collaborated in the past, which is why I have earned the right to use his informal Mr. Brenton salutation.

I know a thing or two about zombies.  I’ve read and watched everything from The Walking Dead to Thriller.  Once upon a time, I even wrote a book about zombies.  So it was with vigor that I read Dead of the Union by Brenton Harper-Murray. Read the rest of this entry »

What’s a little speculative fiction without a bald-faced ripoff and anachronistic speculation?  Imagining Game of Thrones with less imperfect, outdated information: pervasive landlines and occasional cell phones, like if Westeros was in 1995.  P.S. GRRRRR Martin, please don’t sue my breeches off.

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“I don’t like it,” Gared said. “The wildlings are dead. There’s nothing left to find.”

“Are you afraid?” Ser Waymar Royce asked.

“No, ser.”

“And you, Will? Do the dead frighten you?”

Will shook his head. He’d been the one to find the wildlings. Silently creeping up to their camp, he’d realized quickly that he needn’t have bothered. The bodies of the wildings lay scattered around the camp, snow already eclipsing the black sun of their cold campfire. Read the rest of this entry »