Patrick A. McGuire, Bloggonian
For years I told jokes on street corners for tips, dreaming of one day owning a granite counter top. No luck, so I entered a monastery. I now do stand-up at daily prayer services. The monks' vow of silence means they can't laugh. I can't even laugh, although sometimes I sob quietly in the can. This blog is a cry for help. Send money or granite. I accept Pay Pal.
Author Archives: PMcG
Sic transit gloria mundi*
Yesterday he lifted a slat in the blinds and saw The Spanish Inquisition driving through the neighborhood. He quickly ducked away, his back to the wall. Gulping for air, he wondered how they had found him. He spent the rest … Continue reading
Caving to the inner dork
No. 18 in “Nuggets I picked up from my dog,” inspired while walking the late Coffee J. Dogg. One of the first things a carefree boy casts aside after his bone-cracking, overnight morph into self-conscious teenhood is a hat. … Continue reading
Hip, Son of Cool
The soundtrack of Our Man’s day begins with an exterior shot of his driveway. As we see him backing his pickle-water-green Prius into the raging maelstrom of being (RMOB), we hear the Dave Matthews Band playing a long intro: BUMP … Continue reading
Posted in The human comedy
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The nap incident
No. 17 in “Nuggets I picked up from my dog,” inspired while walking the late Coffee J. Dogg. Down in the basement this morning I am alert, wired, spinning thought into gold to keep the wolf from the door. Coffee … Continue reading
How to smuggle an elephant
Last August I read an Associated Press story out of Bangkok with this actual headline: “Thai Police Seize 14 Elephants With Fake IDs.” Smugglers, it turns out, use falsified papers to sneak elephants into Thailand from Myanmar. As reports have … Continue reading
Are you going to Savoir Faire?
Nuggets I picked up from my dog, No. 16 I asked Katherine if dogs could think. When they plop down for a snooze, do they go “Man, I’m pooped. Guess I’ll sack out.” Katherine got a little huffy. “Why do … Continue reading
How cold is it?
Katherine comes in from the cold, red-faced and shivering. “It feels like it’s 20 degrees out there.” “Wrong,” I reply. “It feels like 17.” “Says who?” “The Weather Channel, of course.” I hand her my smart phone which has a … Continue reading
a hint of light 