Words in a Row

A.K.A. the true sto­ry of how the gui­tarist for Dr. Pep and the Toe Biz Maulers plays his gui­tar with two bags of wal­nuts.

Call me Pope Ernie. Or His Holi­ness Ernest the Oneth, if you’re a Shi­ite Catholic.

Ten years since she left us: Here’s to one of the great­est dogs of all time.

The sprawl­ing, epic saga of four (or five, sort of) influ­en­tial authors, all of whom have, alas, joined the choir invis­i­ble, but who also, may all our flagons of ale in Val­hal­la ever be full, can­not sue me.

You know what’s wrong with kids these days? I’ll TELL ya what’s wrong with kids these days!

Reliv­ing the Great Car Stereo Wars of the ’70s.

How to take peo­ple apart to see how they work.

Adult­ing real­ly sucks some­times.

Today I’m binge-watch­ing Bob Ross. No, real­ly.

The frogs are here! TODAY, the World!! A TIDAL WAVE OF SLITHERING, SLIMY HORROR!

Now the creepy triple-head­ed album cov­er makes more sense.

Before Rohyp­nol, Jethro Tull T‑shirts were, alas, the only way a lot of guys could get laid.

You’ve heard this say­ing: “If you don’t like the weath­er in (wher­ev­er you are), just wait five min­utes and it’ll change!” This, my friends, is Fake News.

I love the smell of The Sur­faris first thing in the morn­ing!

John Den­ver did­n’t die, kid. He just went home.

This post is about a song by The Right­eous Broth­ers. I don’t know if they real­ly were right­eous, but I do know they weren’t broth­ers.

When you adopt a dog, you’re tak­ing respon­si­bil­i­ty not only to pro­vide for her, but also to do right by her when it’s time to make tough deci­sions. It can be heart­break­ing.