Eight Days to Amish

No Paychecks . . . No Prospects . . . Always How one writer struggles to elevate from the hammock, overcome his God-given laziness and earn a living in a cruel world that insists he work. (The title of this blog is in no way aspirational or should be considered an endorsement of the Amish lifestyle)

Thursday, April 30, 2009

Nosing around heaven and hell

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I remember a long boozy evening when a friend of mine was expounding on the mundanities of heaven and hell. By that he meant we all sort...
7 comments:
Monday, April 27, 2009

Cigar store ambiance enhanced by breasts

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In my endless quest to find the coolest place in Pittsburgh, I’m often responsible for rounding up a posse. Sound easy? It never is. Maybe I...
3 comments:
Friday, April 24, 2009

"Waiter, there's some hair in my bar!"

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The boys in the bar were making fun of how long my hair was getting. Understand, when I’m talking about the boys in the bar, I don’t mean Vi...
6 comments:
Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Saving the world with global worming

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I’d planned on spending Earth Day scattering dense trash on pristine lands and in deep lakes where the environmental obscenities will likely...
3 comments:
Monday, April 20, 2009

Is it safe? A tortured debate

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At the risk of alienating one of my 11 confirmed readers, I’m about to get serious. I know about 10 percent of my entire readership, a good ...
7 comments:
Thursday, April 16, 2009

Enough already! Awash in staples

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It dawned on me at the cash register that the $4.29 I paid for 5,000 staples will be the last money I’ll ever spend on staples in this mor...
3 comments:
Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Human hunting to curb gun violence

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We need to curb rampant gun violence by issuing human hunting permits to psychopaths who’ll promise to only target suicidal volunteers. I co...
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Chris Rodell
I'm the Latrobe, Pa., based author of "The Last Baby Boomer: The Story of the Ultimate Ghoul Pool," "Use All The Crayons! The Colorful Guide to Simple Human Happiness," and popular books about two Latrobe neighbors (Fred Rogers & Arnold Palmer). I'll write for anybody who'll pay me. I am a PROSEtitute
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