The 7 Or Was It 9 Of Us?


Stop.  Back Up.  To The Beginning …  

Okay, we didn’t actually get in to the bar.  Not on the first couple of attempts.  That would’ve been way too easy.  Of course, My Brethren don’t Do Easy easily.

Epic Fails also isn’t our thing.  And, No is never an option.  Such was the elevated conundrum in imminent need of a viable solution.  Then again, collectively-speaking, we had 3 Undeniably “Jealous Much?” Essential Things Going For Us: Continue reading “The 7 Or Was It 9 Of Us?”

Frank’s Trifecta

An excerpt fromRampart Red– Copyright © 2015 by Michael A. Kuch

JUNE 22, 1979

After The Last Day Of High School … 

Milo and Percy sat shoulder to shoulder stooped like pigeons on the front porch steps of the Como’s bungalow watching Donny and Sam in the driveway.

“No freakin’ way,” Donny said, sucking on an orange popsicle.  “Not a chance, my man.”

“What’s the problem?” Sam asked.  “It’s got plenty of room.”

Sam was rinsing the hood of his mom’s 1964 Rambler American convertible.  Rampart Red. Continue reading “Frank’s Trifecta”

Road Trip


Going Down Old Dominion Way … Shenandoah Valley … Blue Ridge Mountains … 

A Night In Staunton.  Through Charlottesville – Wa-Hoo-Wa! – If you know, what I mean …  On to Richmond and the Festivities.

“Celebrating 140 Years of Brotherhood on a Long, Long, Long Weekend.”

… Consequens Umquam, Deessens Numquam … 


Photo by Mike from Pexels

We Should Talk


The Guys Need Help … Tout de Suite … 

This mess has gone beyond My Humble, Always Jaded Opinion … from Bad Sci-Fi to The Un-See-Able Mortification of Vanity.

An intervention of Armageddon proportion is needed to Save The Males from Themselves, because the Ragazzi are not going to do it alone.

 … I Promise To Help Where I Can, But Please Keep In Mind I May Be Part Of The Problem. Continue reading “We Should Talk”

An Idiot’s Guide To Time Travel


It’ll Enrich The Reader’s Experience … 

To recognize and celebrate we’re all Dumb As Mud on occasion.  While for some, such occasion happens daily … mine dropped midweek.  Sort of.

You needn’t be Einsteinian to comprehend what follows.

In fact, that would be a hindrance to its enjoyment, because none of it is rooted in Scientific Dogma, which I’ve since discovered isn’t a brand of nutritionally-balanced food for smart canines. Continue reading “An Idiot’s Guide To Time Travel”

My Valentine To Walmart


Wearing My Best Worst Resting Pr!ck Face … I Dropped:

“Oh, No You Ditten.”

Delivered with just enough of a hint of Incredulous Sarcasm warmed over by Hurry It Up, Saturday Mornings Don’t Last Forever, Daisy … 

To clue in the obvious that neither one of us wanted to be there … to the smartphone-brandishing, dismissive Little Miss As-If-Whatev’s hiding in plain sight behind the Big Blue Counter of Purgatory … about the two most important parts of Customer Service:

Nice-ish Paying Customer (All About Me) and At-Least-Feign-The-Part-Of-Giving-A-Hey-Now-About-Service (All About You). Continue reading “My Valentine To Walmart”



I Formally Introduced Carl … Carlos … Carlito … 

Cee for short.  The dude goes by several hip monikers.

He’ll answer to almost anything starting with a C, including Charlie, but don’t ever call him Chuck unless the two of you are tight.

… Just The Way He Is About Certain Things … Continue reading “Carl”

Love Nosh


Sharing My Lunch Today … 

Eating Clean – Forgiveness, Compassion, Tolerance – served on a Big Plate of Faith.

“Light On The Guilt, Please … I’m Saving Room For Gratitude.”

… My Monday Feast.


Image by Pixabay



If You Haven’t Already … I’m Asking Nicely … 

Now is the perfect time to stop using this insufferably hyperbolic Idiom.

To the habitual user (serial abuser), a kind request – consideration – to please refrain from another impulsive chorus …

… The annoyingly slow-as-molasses, exaggerative annunciation (of its three trite syllables) could use a sabbatical from popular social commentary vernacular. Continue reading “Ah-May-Zing?”

Play Nice


Is What I Heard Him Say …    

Annunciated phonics.


Delivered in a dialect void of thought, reason and purpose.

I doubt Hope was anywhere to be found … and Forgiveness as foreign as Love … in his hub of a miserable life.

Brandishing Hate – at will – fermented by misdirected rage was all he could offer leaning through the open window of his pick up truck. Continue reading “Play Nice”

Peddle Slower


Perspective In Life Takes Time Invested In Truth, Awareness And Positive Reflection.

In our blind, gluttonous rush to succeed and conquer all at any cost – to achieve and be everything we’ve ever dreamt of – we wear ourselves down to the barest thread of humanity.

Until we stress out, become ill, and collapse.

We’re left cannibalizing our Soul for another sliver of Spiritual Sustenance. Continue reading “Peddle Slower”

Confusing False Bravado With True Confidence: Self-Empowerment Built On Spiritual Strength


It Takes All The Blame On This One.

Humility and Modesty are the true barometers of Spiritual Strength.

“Of the infinite misjudgements, tribulations and poor decisions I’ve curated in my adolescence, ushered through early adulthood and lingered on into middle-age, trumping up my confidence on a fatalistic foundation of bravado and conceit, was the most perilous work of an Ego Gone Bad.”

Continue reading “Confusing False Bravado With True Confidence: Self-Empowerment Built On Spiritual Strength”

Bubble Gum Pink

An excerpt from ‘Swayed’ – Copyright © 2014 by Michael A. Kuch


Going Back To Sugars.

The moment Ray Delano opened his big mouth Hank’s plans went straight to shit.  Strip clubs weren’t his thing.  Not anymore.

Ray showed up at Hank’s place Friday night, dragging a bubble gum pink Samsonite behind him like it was a rotting cadaver on wheels.

Hank figured it was about Tess, Ray’s wife.

It was always about Tess. Continue reading “Bubble Gum Pink”

Uncle Bart

An excerpt from ‘The Rose Consolation’ – Copyright © 2017 by Michael A. Kuch


Liar, Cheat and Thief.

If consolation for criminal ineptitude offers immunity from further judgement, I’m not very good at any of these.

A trite claim, I suppose, doesn’t make me any less culpable for what I’ve done. Continue reading “Uncle Bart”