In October 2024, I got a message on Slack from our HR gal asking if I could join a chat with her and one of my managers. Yeah, of course, I’m actually doing real work right now, so what could be wrong? Then we get in there, and it’s solemn, and it’s a situation where you know you can forget about what you’re working on and take the rest of your life off. I received a two-month severance, which, unlike...
Six months. 31.5 times six. 93 days? I’m not particularly mathematically adept at this time. Nevertheless and irregardless– off the wagon. First, it was the party for a friend of my lover. Strong through an hour, maybe two. Then anxious. Then was asked to get a drink for her. Hers were weak. I nod and smile. To the bar. Drop a twenty. “Double vodka.” It was downhill from there. Down into “Proud Mary in the...
The narrative catalyst that brought about the ultimate physical separation of my wife from myself — when she texted me from Rochester threatening to never bring the children back unless I vacated our rental home — was a story I wrote about a character in a Star Wars role-playing game I’d started playing on the advice of my therapist. To start doing some of my “own” things. Apparently, to her, it resembled too closely our real family, and she took...
No time right now for a detailed update, so here’s a few of the highlights since my last major life update back near November of 2012. 0x01: Met a wonderful woman at work. She wore a poncho one day. I said, “It’s impossible to be unhappy wearing a poncho.” It’s a Mighty Boosh reference. Next day she left an orange juice bottle on my desk wearing a little poncho. We are still together, despite my sometimes difficult personality. She’s the best...
An account change notice from Verizon inspired a brief and generous presumption that my bill would be lowered due to a large chunk of monthly payment having been extracted. That was, of course, a ridiculous notion. In any case, friendly advice to the genital pubic: if an exing-relation wished to extract eir service from a shared martial{sic} account, said relation could get an independent line and tether Internet access to eir house over 4G, getting faster speeds than what s/he...
Some fat fuck entitled his periodic article in The Times-West Virginian as such. No matter. There is so much I cannot say, for it would be printed out and delivered unto “Justice” to keep me from the children who so desperately need my guidance — a firm hand leading them toward some happiness their father could never achieve and their mother cannot deliver. That is enough to be said of Herl. You are familiar with the history, I take it?...
Hay, guyz. That’s kind of an “old-school” Intarwebs thing. My wife sent me to a mental asylum. You know that, right? Yeah, I said that already. Well, the latest trip courtesy of my dearest beloved only one was to the Erie County Holding Centre. ( Yes, it’s spelled like a Canadian would. ) I readily admitted my propensity toward self-harm and was rushed into a man-size oven-glove, snapped the Velcro around my shoulders after a brief but poignant threat in...
Through the fish-eyed lens of tear-stained eyes, I can barely define the shape of this moment in time. And far from flying high in clear blue skies, I’m spiraling down to the hole in the ground where I hide. If you negotiate the mine-fields of my mind … … and if you beat the dogs and cheat the cold electronic eye … … and if you make it past the shotguns in the hall? Dial the combination. Open the priest-hole....
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One response to “The Final Cut”
Is a priest hole much like a deer hole?
It’s a hallucination. A dream. It ends. Eventuality, it ends. I hope….