The first time I met Wesley Morgan. I didn’t want to like him. That’s a shameful admission, but it’s true. Wesley isn’t...
I was standing at the counter of my local Computer Fix-It Store- I should back up, here; every now and again my...
“Tell me what?” Mother demanded. I elbowed my little brother hard in the ribs in the...
This article originally appeared in The DogHouse Manifesto on October 27th, 2012. In view of some recent events, I have decided to re-run...
The church house, that’s what everyone called it, sat snugly if quietly and dangerously on the corner of Lexington Street at Jefferson....
“What the hell do you want?” He shouted as he threw the door open. I stumbled back...
I had figured on spending the day in the Doghouse performing some perfunctory maintenance on whatever I could find that needed fixing,...
I was busy at work in The Doghouse, but I wasn’t ‘in’ the doghouse, if you know what I mean. Lately, I...
I got an early parole out of the doghouse but it won’t last. It never does. Rule # 2406a from the REMEDIAL...