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Dublin, CA

I'm the guy right across the street wearing the "Honx if yous from the Bronx" t-shirt. Go to the window. Seriously. What have you got to lose? Just take a peak. It'll only take a second. There you go. No, over to the left. See me? I'm waving. No, over here. Up more. Right there. God, you're so gullible...

Comedy Writing

Love Letters From Dictators

<p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">September 18<sup>th</sup>, 1978<o:p></o:p></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">My Love, My Light, My Sabrina!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>

Scenarios in Which I Quit

<p class="MsoNormal">I ask Assistant Manager Matt Feinard to cover my register for a quick bathroom break. He, of course, refuses, citing his excuse: “I'm sorry, Buddy, but I’m really <span style="font-style: italic;">really</span> busy.” I nod and when he turns, take a dump in the grocery bag of the next customer, charging them $7.99 for the pleasure.

Walter Payton and the Vienna Boy’s Choir

<p class="MsoNormal">Hi, I approached you at Tin Lizzie’s and I offered to buy you a drink (Vodka Tonic, if I remember). You told me to go to Hell. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Well, I’m fucking here…now what? </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Todd 312-661-90--</p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>

Hilda’s Dildas

<p class="MsoNormal">Hi. Gretchen, it’s Steve. As you probably know from the phone calls and freeway billboards, I’m madly in love with you. I have been for a number of degrading and tortuous years. 787 days, 10 hours, and 6 minutes, actually. Yes, it’s <i style="">that</i> kind of torture—the one where you count the days and hours and minutes of your maniacal depression.

We Could Be Pyrotechnical Together

<p class="MsoNormal">M4W<br />For the blind cutie eating out at Bennigans last night:</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I was the 5’8”…I mean, 6’3” acne-riddled…sorry, tanned heartthrob—with rail-thin…ahem...<i style="">athletic</i> arms and a broken…I mean, perfect smile.<br /></p>

Take ‘er Easy

<p class="MsoNormal">The Lady in Leather Skirt and Boots w/ the banging body on Telegraph,<br />Okay, so you’re not a whore (yet). But I’m telling you, we could make some big money together…set your own hours; work from home!</p> <p class="MsoNormal">--Wolf (The 1200 block of Telegraph)</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>

Sorry for the Incidental Boob Touch

<p class="MsoNormal">This is for Mandy at Mulligan’s last night: As I was <i style="">about</i> to say before your boyfriend started sling-shot-ing<span style=""> </span>punches to my face, my name is Peter. Hi.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">--Peter</p> <p class="MsoNormal">p.s. He seems violent. You should dump him.<br />Give me a call and we’ll talk about it. </p>

Heart Shards

<div style="clear:both;"></div><p class="MsoNormal">This isn’t a romantic Missed Connection or anything. I’m just looking for the whereabouts of my dear, dear friend Bob Wienkle.<br /><o:p></o:p>Bob? Hey there, buddy. How are you? You well?

Ugly Guy

<div style="clear:both;"></div><p class="MsoNormal">All right Mr. Wexley, let’s just have a look at your resume here. Wow. This looks great. I see you worked with Eli in <i style="">Watches</i>. Wowsers. Impressive stuff. I’ve got to say, this is perfect. You’re <i style="">just</i> what we’re looking for. An exact fit. Now, I want to tell you a little bit about the role.

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