The Angry Czeck

They say write what you know, and yet twice I’ve written from the perspective of a woman. I can barely unclasp a bra.

“Maybe we’ll read more?” suggested Mrs. Angry. Read? Oh, God! Next we’ll be buying jazz CDs and constructing sail boats inside of glass bottles.

If the generic suits of BP, Halliburton and Transocean refuse to cooperate with our thirst for vengeance, somebody will. We’ll make sure of it. They just don’t know it yet.

Growing up playing baseball, I acknowledged that there were boys bigger, faster, and better than me. But I never accepted it.

DAD: Enjoy your waffles, children! KIDS: MMMMM! YOUNGEST: Dad! There’s a spider on the wall. <pause> YOUNGEST: Dad! There’s a spider – DAD: Just pretend you don’t see it. ELDEST: You must be really scared. Why aren’t you screaming? DAD: I am. On the inside. Eat your waffles. YOUNGEST: There’s a spider on the wall! [...]