The Chinese Restaurant and Minot Charlie

Don’t go back to the Chinese restaurant.  You’ve been there three times and every time it’s a close call.  Three times you’ve sat there and watched people run up with guns, shooting and killing people.  And yet you’ve gone back.  You’ve crouched down in a booth, shitting yourself while death surrounds you.  Misses you.  You’ve... Continue Reading →

Getting Wasted in 1912 (Pantera and Ladislav Klíma)

Imagine having a terrible hangover in 8 AD. How would you make sense of the pain, sickness and waves of anxiety? Probably feeling worse than Ovid writing his Black Sea Letters: the exile from the world of your people, your life; feeling as though you're on the brink of death and clinging to the hope... Continue Reading →

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