I find myself consistently dismayed when outside observers lump all the residents of Ferguson together
Working the Things I Cannot Change into my Spiritual Journey, an Unlikely Thrift Store Haul, and Concocting a Poor-Man’s Speedball
We’re lucky to be here—alive and kicking in the year 2014
Like it or not, marijuana cultivation has been and continues to be a huge underground source of income for many residents of Butte County.
Dear Republicans – please don’t limit the ability for me to keep my family protected.
The endeavor would involve me leaving our little cocoon of tranquility and navigating the carcass littered death alley that is Highway 99
A story has to go somewhere, do something, and provoke some emotion. The reader must be taken from one point to another.
I left the show with elevated spirits and ringing ears and made my way up the straight stretch of road that leads from Chico to the farm.
You’re not the Boss, deliver six or eight of your very best songs and get the hell off the stage.
Physical work beckons and the blind dog is angling for a walk.
Sometimes the conspiratorial part of my mind tells me they meant to lose those last two elections.
These Days the Internet is my Portal From Country Living to Life in the Big City, Praying Mantises are Determined to Live Inside, and Bill the Dog Has Gone Blind.
It all got me to thinking about football and how the sport has grown from a group of adrenaline-jonesing World War Two veterans engaging in a rag-tag weekly melee, to the ultra-choreographed, oily-slick, media-savvy, money-laden juggernaut we have before us today.
Even if it tastes like hell it will do the trick.