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Mondo Lucha, Milwaukee’s gift to those who want their minds blown. There are wrestlers. There are burlesque performers. There is rock and roll. And there is always an element of ridiculous anti-political correctness that always takes the show to a place that can be, frankly, uncomfortable.
Every time I see a pregnant woman I think of it as a rare sign of optimism. Well, baseball season is starting so there’s that too. But to bring a human being into this world seemingly takes a lot of courage these days given the current political, environmental and social climate.
It’s time for my mea culpa, Vampire Weekend.
I have been gluten free, except for the breaded fry incident back in December, for about four months. Before you groan and stop reading because you don’t want to hear about somebody else’s diet for the millionth time, I want you to know I was you a few months ago.
Passed away. Passed on. Laid to rest. Crossed over. Bit the dust. Kicked the bucket. With Jesus in Heaven. On the other side. Sleeping with the fishes. These are some of the ways we refer to people who have gone to their eternal rest or, in other words, are dead.
I’m a guy who is only slightly past middle age. And like most people my age I tend to have a penchant for the past. I still think Abbey Road is the greatest album of all time. I think the greatest era of film is the 70s. I still kind...
Growing up in the 90’s, the concept of “Stranger Danger” was drilled into my head. I remember my school making us watch disturbing videos about ominous windowless white vans and how we were to run, RUN kids, in the opposite direction if we were to see one.
As we’ve grown to annoyingly expect, at the end of each year, Facebook’s news feed is consumed with post-after-post of friends, family members, and old acquaintances sharing their New Year’s resolutions.
Sorry for the pretentious rant, but The Oscars are just not what they used to be.
There has always been a part of me that has been a cowgirl. As a kid, I wore cowboy boots, collected a menagerie of porcelain horses, had a favorite stuffed horse that I took on vacation with me, and in summer I visited my friend Marcia whose pony would buck and kick when he got tired of me riding him bareback.
So you made it through the polar vortex of 2019. Me too! I had a lot of time to think during those bitter cold days and I thought a lot about my values, my hopes, my dreams.
It was a typically warm summer night in St. Louis, and Phil Sklar and Brad Novak pulled up to Busch Stadium to take in a ballgame. They love baseball, and taking in a game wasn’t out of character for them. They went to games all the time.
Written and drawn from the perspective of a 5’4″ midwesterner
Welcome to the Super Bowl of the United States of America. Where “All things to all people” has now reached it’s full self-actualized potential. It’s an all-inclusive where everyone is represented and no one wins. What is supposed to be a showcase for the best in football, the best in advertising, and the best in music is now none of those things, drowning in it’s watered down, neutered existence.
I have a feral cat that has lived near or on my front porch for over 11 years. Two ladies in an apartment building down the street who started feeding her named her Baby.
I want to tell you about the magical world of the Internet. I often ponder its utility when I read about viral challenges that ultimately yield the next Darwin Award or when celebrities tweet inane things or when people use the Internet to spread revenge porn. I wonder if we’ve created a monster.
You know the earmarks of some of the best documentaries; they either have a great plot twist or an Insane revelation; devastating developments and brutal human truths unfold. They are human drama at it’s finest.
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