Rant
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Politics: Humanity’s Favorite Way to Be Miserable
I swear, November 5th might as well be a national holiday for people like me—the post-election detox day. The day all those godforsaken political signs finally vanish from every patch of grass, median, and intersection. You know the ones. They multiply like gremlins after midnight. Suddenly, your peaceful drive to work looks like a kindergarten…
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Press 1 to Burn in Hell: A Love Letter to Telemarketers
Here’s the thing: I spend my mornings delivering hot meals and decency to old folks who actually deserve both. Meals on Wheels — the noble front line where compassion meets burnt-out transmission fluid. I hand out food, chat a little, make sure Mrs. Peterson hasn’t decided to put her cat in the microwave “just to…
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Dancing at the Gas Pump: Ohio Valley’s Latest Cry for Help
I know I’m getting old. I’ve accepted that gravity now wins every argument with my knees, and I’m fine with it. But what I don’t understand—what absolutely fries my remaining brain cells—is this new generation’s obsession with performing for absolutely nobody. I pulled into a gas station today to get gas, you know, the thing…