Took this in Croatia. Not somewhere I’d like to attempt to enjoy myself.

Let me start this post by saying I’m not proud of this. It was the holidays and I was looking to relive some tention, herbally. Having grown up with the friend I thought I was txting, he and I share a playful banter grounded in the beleif that fucking with one another is the best way  to communicate. Most males, I’ve found, would agree. He is also Indian, and as it’s open season on my borderline flamboyancy, his...

WELCOME TO CROHN’S The first time I ever heard the words “Crohn’s Disease” was right after I found out I had it. I remember I was sitting with my mother looking at the latest round of x-rays from a small bowel series, and although to me it looked like a traffic jam in the Holland Tunnel, the doctors seemed confident that disease was evident. The room started spinning. Only four months ago I had been a seemingly healthy...

RICE IS NICE In the 13 years since Mr Crohn moved in I’ve noticed through trial and error that certain foods anger him greatly, and others slip by like a SBD in gym-class. So today I wanna talk about rice. Let’s face it – Angry Crohn’s has a lot to do with what you eat. Having been on just about every medication out there including the snip snip sew sew kind I began to examine the food and drink that was angering the part of my...

My father is a scotch. If people were booze, my father would be a scotch. Unlike domestic dads, my father has a cool sipability to him. He is not a vodka, wanting to please everyone, or a gin, wanting to please no one, he is a scotch. You might mistake him for wine, as everyone gets along with him, but scotch has an edge that fits John Morrison best. Of all the alcohols, scotch cannot be rushed, and of all the dads, neither can my...