NEW FICTION: Bourbon & Blondes has arrived!

From the bus stations of Rt. 66 to the smoky, neon-tinged jazz dives of the big cities, these wanton tales of longing introduce us to vixens on the fringe and those shifty men that drove them there.

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Watch: The 'Bourbon & Blondes' Book Trailer

Get your shot glass ready because you're about to enter a retro world of showgirls, drifters, barmaids and thieves.

The eternal question for scribes?

In this new social media landscape, the question becomes: Is blogging dead? It just may be...

Watch: The 'Front Page Palooka' Book Trailer

Read the pulp novella that one reviewer called 'A potboiler in the style of old school writers like Mickey Spillane, Dashiell Hammett or Raymond Chandler...'

Monday, May 30, 2011


Thank you to ALL soldiers past and present, living or deceased, for all that you have done and sacrificed for our country. You are heroes and we are forever grateful for what you have done for our freedom.

Sunday, May 22, 2011


Press play for some mood music

I don't know if I was hallucinating from the Nevada heat or if it was just the cheap gin I was sipping from my hipflask. Whatever the case, something was certainly odd about that afternoon. So much so, at one point I might've even heard Rod Serling's voice in my head.

"Consider if you will a hitchhiker. A man content to be a loner, trekking his way across our great nation. He's a creative sort with an overactive imagination and no one to share it with. A man who hasn't seen a car in three hours and is all too willing to hop in that back seat of one that approached. This is the story of happenstance on a lonely, deserted road in 'The Twilight Zone.'

I was getting a bit too close to the desert and just when I was about to turn back and head for town and the nearest flophouse, I saw them -- these three rockabilly kittens -- driving towards me. I stuck out my thumb and as they passed, the driver screeched some rubber.

As I hopped in, I was amazed to see three of the coolest looking rockabilly chicks I've ever seen. Their car was a Nash and I figured they could've been to Las Vegas for a variety of reasons - car show, rockabilly convention, tattoo expo. I looked at their arms and they weren't tatted up. In fact, they didn't look like they've been around the block all that much. Something was starting to feel strange.

Kitten Number Two shared the back seat with me and asked what was in my ears. I shot her a confused look and showed her my iPod.

"What's that?" she asked.

"It's for music..." I answered, positive she was just fucking with me.

She lit up. "Fun! Can I listen?" I carefully placed the earbuds in her ear and pressed play.

When she shrieked, I turned the player off. The Kittens up front snapped around to see what was wrong.

"That's horrid! What's that noise?"

"Um ... The Chemical Brothers," I told her. "Don't like it?"

"It sounds like outer space music for the depraved," she said leaning forward to the front seat and flipping on the radio. She started bopping her head. "Carl Perkins... He's where it's at..."

Kitten Number Two noticed my flask and asked for a shot. "It's gin," I told her, handing it over.

"All the better..." Kitten Number One, the driver, uttered.

# # #

When I woke up, I was laying on the side of the road right where the Kittens picked me up, flask empty by my side. It was windy and almost dark. The desert was no place to be at night so I started hoofing it to a greasy spoon a few miles back.

It was getting cold and as I stuck my hands in the pocket of my denim jacket, I noticed my iPod was gone. "You gotta be fucking kidding me --" was my only thought from the side of that shitty highway to the Formica counter.

When I plopped on the diner stool, I noticed the place was empty. By rights it should be. At 3 a.m., diners are way stations for the drunk, lonely or stupid. Guess which one I was.

I went to light a cigarette. For the record, those were gone as well.


The waitress, who oddly looked like an out-of-place fembot, slid me some coffee. "'S'matter darlin?"

""Ah, nothing... I lost my iPod up the road."

She tilted her ear like a confused pup. "You mean earPod..."

Now I was confused. She pointed to her head and pulled out what looked like a hearing aid battery from her ear. "Holds 75,000 albums... Plays holograms in 3D... What's an iPod?"

I shook my head and laughed. Sipping my coffee, I should've known better than to sip gin in the Nevada sun.

Music: Carl Perkins, 'Gone Gone Gone. It can downloaded HERE.

Monday, May 16, 2011


Here's some Sammy goodness for fans of who I personally thought was the 'Hardest Workin' Man in Showbiz'

Sammy Davis, Jr. pieces in Bukowski's Basement

Friday, May 13, 2011

FURTHER ON UP THE ROAD (#fridayflash)

Please click play for some mood music

She met the putz on his leave.

It was few years past the Armistice in Korea and when they were on their first date, Bobby admitted to Lori Beth that the only reason he joined the Navy was because "all the real fighting was already done."

How brave... Lori Beth thought to herself. A real winner. First dates were the do-or-die time to impress a gal and here he is all but inadvertently admitting what a coward he is.

Bobby fiddled with his rum and Coke. "Besides, I figured I'd beat Uncle Sam to the punch, huh?"

She smiled politely and looked out the window, unsure if if he was just nervous or just a complete ass. For the time being, Lori Beth chalked it up to him just being nervous because on their way out, he somehow managed the bravado to knock out some hopped up hooch hound who was a little too hot in the zipper.

"Respect the lady..." her sailor told the creep.

Her perception of Bobby changed. For the next week, they spent every waking hour at a hot pillow joint the next town over until he shipped back for his next tour.

One night, as Lori Beth joked about all the girlfriends he has abroad tucked away in love huts, Bobby laughed, told her how unglamorous life was on cramped aircraft carriers and tossed her the keys to his 49 Mercury.

"Watch her for me," he said. "I'll be back before you know it."

# # #

The six months went by fairly quick. In between her job at the concession stand at the drive in and writing Bobby letters every weekend, it wouldn't be long before they were together again.

But it was long.

The rumor was that he was making time with some roller derby hussy two counties away. She wouldn't have believed it if it wasn't for picture proof in the local rag. There he was on the society page with "Payne Mansfied," the so-called blonde bombshell of the regional derby. They were engaged.

Her blood boiled.

She decided to sign up for the derby that afternoon. Forget the fact that she couldn't skate -- all that was important was that she had her name: Blocky Marciano. She originally wanted to go with Rita Hateworth but figured the former sounded more vicious.

But that wasn't good enough.

Lori Beth needed more revenge so she did what any red-blooded American woman would. Much to the chagrin of her mother, she found that skimpy two-piece from last season and washed Bobby's Plymouth in the front yard with the radio cranked and flirted with every fella that strolled by.

The hottest Saturday afternoon of the summer, she made sure everyone saw her. Word needed to get back to Bobby - written or otherwise - that she knew what a crumb-bum he was and more important, she was selling his car. The '49 Merc.

Oh she sold it alright. Little did she know that her future Mr. Right was only 345 smackeroos away.

Music: 'Further On Up The Road,' by Bobby Blue Bland. It can be downloaded HERE.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011


Andrew Rossi’s riveting documentary 'Page One: Inside The New York Times' had its World Premiere at the Sundance Film Festival, and was acquired by Magnolia Pictures and Participant Media for theatrical release this June. In the tradition of great fly-on-the-wall documentaries, the film deftly gains unprecedented access to the New York Times newsroom and the inner workings of the Media Desk.

With the Internet surpassing print as our main news source and newspapers all over the country going bankrupt, 'Page One' chronicles the transformation of the media industry at its time of greatest turmoil. Writers like Brian Stelter, Tim Arango and the salty but brilliant David Carr track print journalism’s metamorphosis even as their own paper struggles to stay vital and solvent, while their editors and publishers grapple with up-to-the-minute issues like controversial new sources and the implications of an online pay-wall.

Meanwhile, rigorous journalism is thriving – 'Page One' gives us an up-close look at the vibrant cross-cubicle debates and collaborations, tenacious jockeying for on-record quotes, and skillful page-one pitching that brings the most venerable newspaper in America to fruition each and every day.

Check out the trailer: