The Asshole Book Club wasn’t your traditional book club. The Assholes didn’t all choose one book, read it on their own, and then return as a group to discuss it. That never happened. The Asshole Book Club would get together, drink some beers, and talk about something we read recently – whether it was a magazine article, love letter, diary entry, album/DVD linear notes or an actual book. The only rule was it had to be non-Web material. The Asshole Book Club was led by Chicago reclusive author Clive Javanski. In fact, I believe the name stems from a time when we were helping Clive set up a booth at a local festival. “Well look there, it’s the asshole book club.” I think it…
Essays, Interviews, Observations, Pop Culture, Stories, and other Dodginess
Posts from the “Essays/Writing” Category
Redeye, which I took to calling him (not to his face), didn’t follow up on his threat. Thus, I lived to endure the few months of first semester lunch. Redeye and his band of Lager louts accepted me, as if that was a compliment. You see, if there was one talent that got me through high school, it was that I got along with everybody – jocks, geeks, gays, stoners, princesses, and detention room criminals. As far as my new lunch room compatriots, yes they were thugs, but lazy thugs. Maybe it was the early lunch hour. Nobody had energy. A sad excuse for a food fight ended as soon as it started. “I’m just too tired” one of Redeye’s gang said. The only time…
After watching The Perks of Being A Wallflower and the obligatory high school lunch room scenes, I got to thinking about my own school cafeteria. I don’t think I’ve ever had a lunch room experience quite like any I’ve seen in the movies. Even if we tried to re-create something it never came out quite right. I certainly never had lunch outside like those featured in most of the movies – at least the ones taking place in California. And lockers outside? Can you imagine that in the UK or Chicago? My high school lunch room resembled a prison cafeteria (think Oz). I was sentenced to it for four years. Freshman year, I’d just arrived from a small Catholic school that I’d attended for…
The Dodgy 