Your neighborhood fascist
“It should be awkward to NOT talk about politics these days,” a quote I read on my IG feed. And I agree! The situation in Minneapolis has gotten a lot of people talking and the word we hear a lot is facism. Hyperbole? I think not. Especially when the head of ICE looks like this:…
Mer Rouge (part 7)
Oren floored it northbound, or possibly westbound, out of the Mer Rouge outskirts and onto the moonlit delta bayou. The road signs were riddled with bullet holes and graffiti and failed to provide any sense of direction. Despite this, to the best of his knowledge, he was making a beeline towards the Arkansas border. Yet…
She’s dead, Jim
First off, fuck all yall for not reading Mer Rouge. And secondly, I want to thank everyone for really putting in the views this month. The blog has been on the upswing viewership-wise lately, so everyone should pat themselves on the back for a job well done. But enough of that shit. Let’s talk about…
Mer Rouge (part 6)
Dirk furrowed his brow and glared at the holy man. Since the priest had him dead to rights and he failed to securely cuff Hutch’s wrists, he knew he couldn’t reach for the concealed .44. It was hidden underneath his leather vest. Reaching for it would have risked Hutch escaping, or worse, the priest getting…
Mer Rouge (part 5)
Hutch’s eyes shifted downward and he clutched his beer glass. Dirk, towering six inches above all the patrons, sauntered over to his side of the bar and laid his large, bigoted hand next to the outsider. Hutch fixated on it. Tattooed just below his pinky was the unmistakable blood cross of the Ku Klux Klan.…
Mer Rouge (part 4)
Oren hopped back into the pick up and immediately cut on the engine. He watched the rear view mirror as Hutch sauntered over to Kal’s Kountry Katina with hands in his pockets and one shoe untied. After he disappeared into the thicket of bikers and roughnecks, Oren slumped in the driver’s seat with his hood…
Mer Rouge (part 3)
Oren threw open the passenger’s side door and his brother nearly fell out. “What the hell?!” Hutch cried out. “You had ONE job, Hutch! ONE job!,” Oren yelled. “You couldn’t stay awake for three minutes?!” “I was tired!” “And now all of the vacuums are gone!” Hutch raised an eyebrow and strained his neck trying…
Mer Rouge (part 2)
Dusk was settling over the delta when they crossed the state line. Oren’s heart sank. His eyes gazed over the flat cotton fields of scraggly trees and twisted debris left over from a long ago storm. A bloated deer carcass was chained to a pillar holding a sign reading Welcome to Louisiana. They were going…
Mer Rouge (part 1)
The shit water cascaded down the bowl and onto the cold tiled floor like brownish rapids over the Armagosa. Oren was helpless to do anything about it. His brother had a cursed ass which shat out turds as thick as tungsten and wide as a rolling pin. Feeling helpless, the elder brother wanted to shake…
Where were you in ‘72? 🤔
Have you ever considered falling face first down a stairwell? Have you ever shit your pants in a crowded cinema? Have you ever felt more alive after “forgetting” to take antipsychotic meds for three weeks straight? Well I have good news! 17 out of 114 psychologists recommend reading Vanitas by Beau Montana! Currently ranked in…
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