Even to a disgraced man of the collar, a half full bottle of redemption is still worth something. Sometimes the only faith a man has left lies at the bottom of that bottle. — Nobody looked up when anybody stumbled into this broken down hooch den. Anonymity is king, here. Nobody wants to be here, and nobody wants to know who else is here. It’s where nobody knows your name, and they don’t give a damn whether you live or die.

My memories of you won’t let me rest, so I turn to the bottle and to the weed. I let the devil in, and now I pay the price. The joint hung loosely between my trigger finger and my fuck-you finger, burning away its happiness second by second. The smoke…

Guarding her tomb is the toughest job I could imagine, but it is necessary. One day, she will rise and leave this world in smoke and ash. — Smoke and ash. She will reduce this world to ruin — a ball of smoke and ash — with no chance of survival. I stand guard on her tomb, fearing the day she raises. Fearing I cannot perform my sworn duties. But these duties may not fall upon my shoulders…

Frankie never thought love would be in his future, until he meets Velda, the exquisite demonic hooker at the Emporium. As romance swirls through the air, has Frankie found his soulmate, or is there more to Velda than met the eye? — “Time to party!” Frankie guns his 454 four-barrel big block engine in his loaded Cortez Silver 1970 Corvette convertible. Top-down, blasting ‘Sweet Home Alabama’ on the eight-track, his racing slicks squeal as he comes in hard around the bends of the Tail of the Dragon. …

One must undertake a journey of redemption if one wishes to bask in the warmth of their lord. — As I walk through the city gates, I drop my pack at the side of the road. Worn, torn, and empty — there’ll be no need for it now, Dead weight carrying the forgotten memories of my distant past. The wolves circle the gates, but they do not dare enter…

She wanted me to shove it in, hard and fast, so I did exactly what she told me to do. — “Just fucking shove it in,” she hissed at me as I took a second to ponder the situation. Too late now, I thought, for second guesses, so I followed orders. I took my Fairbairn-Sykes and drove it up to the hilt, severing Gary’s spinal cord and instantly killing the poor…

When your hands won’t do what you tell them anymore, it’s a hard pill to swallow. Especially when you can’t pry the childproof lid from the bottle. —

Reach for your dreams, but make sure you watch where you step. — As the world turns grey, I lay a broken mess of size thirteen stiletto heels, ripped fishnet stockings, and a Tina Turner wig. I wonder to myself if it really was the best idea I’ve had to have a personal Pride Parade at Everest’s summit. It’s always been my dream…

It’s only fitting we bury her deep in the ground, deep in the woods, where she loved to play. — My beer grows warmer by the minute, but I have to finish digging her grave. She deserves a grave dug by a sober man. Or one that can still stand. …