“A Found Poem (which may have been written by me)”
Phone no am work good.
No bars. (Not even itsy tiny bar.)
Factory reset no am make better.
Verizon store replace sd card, no am make better.
They throw up hands.
They say, “Eric am must pay $4 million for new phone!”
Eric say, “Eat a stainless steel bat turd!”
No can text–only FB messenge.
Actually, even FB messenge pretty iffy too
since rebooted phone won’t download it.
Wont download podcast app either.
It give error message and dump battery.
Replacement phone not arrive for days and possibly days.
Silence and sadness.
(Eric found deal. New phone, only $2 million)
In honor of my reading of a Horribly True Tale for Friday Night Alive at the Lewis Theatre in Lewisburg, please, if you will, have a gander at the fine selection of other Horribly True Tales courtesy of the Horribly True Tales from the Drunken Trucker page here on this very site.
David Sedaris told me he liked my jacket. When I met him. At his reading in town the other night. Which was fantastic.
He also answered my question of which member of his family was secretly wiping their butt with the fudge-colored towels in his essay “True Detective.”
I decline to share that information with you at this time, except to say that his answer matched my guess.
My audiobook narration for Chris Tarry’s award-winning short story collection HOW TO CARRY BIGFOOT HOME is available.
It is a collection of beautiful, funny, bittersweet, and (in the case of one of them) Pushcart-nominated tales for adults. It was a fantastically fun project to work on.
Please be so kind as to check it out on Amazon.com, Audible.com and (coming soon) to iTunes.
(Setting: My house, as the wife spots the now semi-empty steel can we’ve been using to collect bacon grease.)
THE WIFE– What happened to all the bacon grease?
ME– I threw it away in the trash.
THE WIFE– Why didn’t you just throw away the whole can?
ME– So I could reuse the can for more bacon grease. And so I wouldn’t have to throw away a can.
THE WIFE– You are officially the Recycling Nazi.
ME– I prefer “Recycling Fascist.”
THE WIFE– (Coming over to tickle me) More like “Recycling Fat-scist.”
(Pass the bacon, y’all.)
Eric is making signing and speaking appearances to promote A Consternation of Monsters. (He also occasionally does some acting.) You’ll find those appearances and roles here.
February 7-9, 2019 — Eric’s short play “Aye Do” will be featured as part of Greenbrier Valley Theatre‘s GVT Play Fest. The decision to settle down can be tough for some, but when you’re a hardened Pirate Captain living a rich life of high-seas adventure filled with “ya harrs” and “yo hos” and pillaging yachts of Wells Fargo executives, it can be downright vexing. Until one destiny-altering, magical moonlit walk on a beach sets the wedding bells a-ringin’. But will his first mate get him to the church on time or talk him out of a journey fraught with perils and potential doom? Johnny Depp, beware! A 10 minute sea-faring romantic comedy about growing up. And pirates.
(Setting: our living room, as the end credits roll on our six-month-old DVRed copy of JUSTICE LEAGUE, a movie which I have only now finally got around to watching and which my wife has only now finally got around to reading a book during, punctuated by long stretches of looking over the edge of her iPad to stare at Jason Mamoa as Aquaman, a little drool running out of the edge of her mouth.)
ME— Huh. Well, as not great as that movie was, it was not nearly as bad as I expected it to be.
THE WIFE— (grinning) Isn’t there a movie with just Aquaman in it?
ME—Yes. It’s called “Aquaman.” And it is in theaters now.
THE WIFE— (Giggles) I would go see that. (Sly grin.) Maybe they’ll have more scenes of him drinking and stomping around.
ME—(Stunned) You liked that, huh?
THE WIFE—(Beaming) Uh huh!
ME—You are a puzzle I will never solve. When I drink and stomp around you say I’m an alcoholic.
THE WIFE—Yeah, but I have to live with you.
(Cut to the following evening, as we emerge from the local cinemaplex having viewed all 2 hours and 22 minutes of Aquaman.)
THE WIFE— That was a terrible movie
THE WIFE— But Jason Mamoa was pretty.
ME— He was prettier than Amber Heard and her clown wig.