male, pale and old... (1 Viewer)

some buk net regulars like that sumbitch hooch monkey and that other sumbitch hosh mccreesh plus that sumbitch cunningham and that other mf'er calhoun plus other jerks like bill taylor jr and justin.barrett appear in a fine bit of intertube publishing over at another forum type site if anyone wishes to check it out...

you can do it H E R E
 
A spritz of Classic Musty on the screen may overcome your unease. Some good reading there, Gin, but likewise prefer the stink of ink and all things papery.


Smell of Books.png
 
that bio was the hardest thing for me in that project, because it wasn't a regular writers bio where you list publications, etc. they wanted you to talk about yourself. it may surprise some people, but I hate talking about myself. at least in any serious manner.

the smartest thing I did in that project was to ask mjp to write a blurb. he made me look good, which I'm sure took some creative flubbing.
 
my name is jordan. i'm a writer. i write. i write things. writing is what i do. when i was two, i was raped by a squirrel. when i was three, i was raped by a bigger squirrel. when i was four, i lived with crackheads who raped stuff. when i was five, my babysitter raped a bag of crack. when i was six, my house got raped by a falling tree. when i was seven, rape rape rape. when i was eight, drugs drugs drugs.

now that you're sufficiently shocked by my horrible past, i should remind you that i've always written, but it was someone else who URGED me to publish my stuff because they recognized my genius. other people read it, and they too recognized my genius. rape rape rape. drugs drugs drugs.

my name is jordan. i'm a writer.
 
hooch: agreed. me too.

as for the bio, I went with short. nothing beats short when you're boring everyone with how sublime one's life truly isn't.

and my electronic pages smell like burnt dimes and whiplash. dunno how to get that in a can...with force and determination, I assume...

but I refuse to rape it into that spout.
 
he made me look good, which I'm sure took some creative flubbing.
It took creative genius, yes, but no flubbing.

rape rape rape. drugs drugs drugs.

my name is jordan. i'm a writer.
I urge you to publish your memoirs. I can get the book to Oprah, and I happen to know she's a sucker for anything involving squirrel rape. You're on your way to easy street, my friend. Now would be a good time to think up a fancy title for yourself. Like Prince Jordan, or Pope Jordan.
 
wow, i think father luke's bio page is pretty much the most hilarious thing i've read all year.
It's funny you should mention that because I was having a hard time with the babysitter story.

That is one of his favorite words.

hooch: agreed. me too.

as for the bio, I went with short. nothing beats short when you're boring everyone with how sublime one's life truly isn't.

and my electronic pages smell like burnt dimes and whiplash. dunno how to get that in a can...with force and determination, I assume...

but I refuse to rape it into that spout.
Chris, you have the most intense bio and writing. It would be funny to find out you are actually living in an apartment complex in an Atlanta ghetto.

God, I've been missing this place...
Number6 and ROC we have missed you guys too.
 
thanks gerard, I appreciate it...and up until 2008 we did in fact live in college park on old national highway in atlanta, famously namechecked . not quite in an apartment, we lived in a house, but we did get broken into regularly, and had both cars stolen out of our driveway, and one of our dogs we saved from behind an abandoned house in our neighborhood where he'd been chained up.

well, one got stolen; they couldn't figure out how to drive a stick and didn't get mine out of the driveway. they did however manage to fuck it up to the tune of about a grand in the process.

neat.

but now, thank jebus, we live H E R E. much better.
 
OH BOY YES! we absolutely LOVE visitors. just drop by whenever! day or night! seriously, we have an open door policy. us country folks like just adore settin' on the porch of an evening and waiting for a busload of interesting strangers to pop by for a spell.

don't call first though. it helps us practice our aim and response time, as well as sharpen the dogs' hearing. that crunch on gravel gets the rottweiler's hackles up, but not in a menacing way. we promise.

after all, surprises are everybody's friend, right?

right.
 

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