Yes, I take Augusts off every year. It’s a self-imposed exile from the blank page. This blog is therapeutic, so the last thing I want is for this to feel like fucking homework.

So even though I take a break each year, I’m still writing, asshole. I would never forget about you. You complete me.

Speaking of writing, here’s a little breakdown of my writing process.

Relax, ya boy has not really joined a cult. I almost did once, though. It all began with a single invitation in the mail. What followed was a series of events so weird that to this day I can’t really explain what happened to me.

It’s difficult to describe, but there’s just this energy that some people emit that makes them too damn smooth.

Shane Gillis shares some advice from a friend much smoother than him.

As is customary, I will be taking August off from the blog. You know the best way to keep the creative spirit alive? Pretty simple, it turns out. All you need to do is put the phone down and walk out the front door.

A story as old as time.

Also a drawing brought to you by rangeldoesnotexist.com

In an effort to get healthier, I’ve cut the booze and upped the h2O. Only problem is now I’m pissing like crazy. Is that normal?

Working in the industry is really taxing on your body. During the week, you can meal-plan and lift weights as much as you want, but come that first shift at the bar, your efforts become all but fruitless. You eat whatever you can get your hands on. Countless FREE beers, shots, and Claws with regulars and your brothers in arms. Your sleep schedule? FUBAR.

Now that my bar has closed, it’s time I regain control of my health. After careful planning and strategy, I’ve developed a fool-proof plan that will get me absolutely fucking ripped by summer’s end. And because I’m such a nice guy, I’m going to share my routine with you.

Here are some tips that you’ll actually be able to follow. The best part? You can still drink while on my nutrition plan.

Disclaimer: I am not a physician and these tips will not actually help you get healthier.

The bar I’ve worked at for years just shut their doors for good. Finding myself without a side hustle, I try to write a sitcom.

I spend WAY TOO MUCH TIME Googling “1-star reviews.” But there is, I believe, a special subset of 1-star reviews out there. Think about it: which industry has the most hilarious 1-star reviews?

There’s a great scene in Half Baked where Dave Chappelle’s character goes on a date with $8 to his name. He is really into this gorgeous woman who he feels is way out of his league. But he goes on the date and it goes so incredibly well, he even impresses himself.

I used to be able to smoke and then read or write or draw. Then at some point I would just smoke and drool on myself. I’m not sure what triggered that. I stopped smoking in 2017 and haven’t really looked back.

The second entry in an ongoing series dedicated to what I imagine living in different cities would be like.

Here’s the first entry, where I struggle to co-exist with writers, shitty improv actors, yoga enthusiasts, and dogshit restaurants: on LA.

I’ve recently come across the idea of “clean sleeping.” Like clean eating, clean sleeping purports that we can all greatly improve our health and wellness by being hyper-vigilant about one day-to-day metric. In this case, “at least seven or eight hours of good, quality sleep—and ideally even ten” a night on the road to optimal living. It goes against every entrepreneur I respect, but is still an interesting idea. Especially because I’ve developed a seriously bad case of baggy, droopy eyes lately.

This site has taken a dark turn as of late. My mom guest blogs in an attempt to right the ship.

I moved to the suburbs a couple years ago. One of the big differences between the city and the suburbs is that you can actually see the stars out here. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve downed a Guinness or two and sat outside, staring at nothing and everything. Makes you think.