Futzler Files #2: Bell-Holland Bleus
I'd only been in the office for ten minutes and I could barely keep my head up. Rodney's drunken escapade had thrown my sleep straight out the window, and not even heavy (possibly deadly) amounts of sugar and caffeine were giving me any energy. I...
Futzler Files #1: Just Another Manic Wednesday
I sat on the edge of my concrete stoop, feeling the crisp autumn air nip through my blazer and suit pants. A small trail of smoke rose up from the smoldering end of my Indigo Light, perched between my fingertips. Not my preferred brand mind you, but...
Futzler Files #3: Whiskey Business
Whiskey. Before I had my first taste in the sunset years of college, I'd never really seen myself as someone who would enjoy alcohol. Cheap beer was too bitter, microbrews too kitschy, wine too expensive, and vodka too strong. Nothing really wet my...
Futzler Files #6: Futzlers, Ham, and Heartache
**Sunday. The day I look forward to most every week, because it means rolling into my old Corvette and mozying over to Mom's house for brunch. It's been our little gig for a while now, and I think she's come to rely on my visits for company. I don't...