NAUGHTY DOG
The Boston police were nice enough, telling me there had just been too many complaints and that when they went into my apartment apparently my best buddy in the whole world had attacked them. It was a mess and they apologized but they really feared for their lives. So I stand over his grave and toss in his favorite toy, a big squeaky fly and nod to the District Salesman of LabSpyder Incorporated. He offered me a 20% discount on another Cambodian tarantula with Plant DNA. In a
TRICK OR TREAT?
Who’s getting tricked and who’s getting the treat? That’s the question I have asked myself over and over in the past ten years. In 2002 as I sat in the county jail awaiting trial I happened to come across an article in the newspaper-which newspaper? I can’t recall-titled “Casinos and Prisons are Big Business.” The part about the casinos I skimmed over since casinos being big business is a no-brainer of a concept. But, I was very interested in what they had to say about the pr
A DAY AT THE SWAP & SHOP
Up early on a Sunday morning, my dad and I drove to Swap & Shop, held every weekend at the old I-70 drive-in, a place where people from all over sell and barter goods—everything from clothes to animals. The night before, my dad and I loaded a display table, mechanic tools, power tools, and various items into his red Chevrolet van with rusted fenders, plush red bucket seats, red shag carpet, a pair of white fuzzy dice hanging around the rearview mirror, a pine tree car deodori
