Easter Stumble Novella Nacho Dinner Crunky Oates.

Wow. The Mother of all Novella Posts by John Madera. Thoughtful, forceful, catastrophic, kick ass and non-feebly clap. Beautiful woman or man or blizzard, or other untouchable  wondrous giddy kid-like glow things I read it like. The day I flung the sling-shot into the church window, etc. The day I rejected bourbon and hurled vertical, thrice on skimmest of gas station milk. Backwards-ass sentence feel, often by owl-light or hallucination or photograph of Loved One. I wish I had been born in Iceland, I really do. I feel tiny. I wish I was in Iceland and also larger, especially the hands, which would make me throw the disc golf disc further. Maybe. Iceland.

I want to run…

Thanks, John, now I have about fifty new books on summer list. Oh well.

Me like Sean Kilpatrick’s List.

Me like Dermot‘s list.

Me like Joyce Carol Oates‘s list. She is clearly on a mission. Amazing.

Here are my 2 cents…spend them well.


I did run the Rabbit Race, the Bunny Race 5k thing, for The Children, always for The Children. The Children are bareheaded in the hot sun. Michelin tire worthy. Bo Peep soap-bubble, honest curse words, dancing for no one but themselves, all that stuff I enjoy. If you are not into The Children, you were just born selfish and cold like oxygen. All that. The Children are important. As in significant. As in critical. All that. The TV. The TV, and The Children. And the TV. Etc.

I tried to go holy, I tried to go holy, I did, with another seventh place finish.

7 seals in revelation.

7 angels of doom.

There are 7 notes in the musical scales, for what it is worth. It is worth nothing.





Sean Lovelace




I did not run so fast but I am running the Boston Marathon in a week so am not really 5k training. Boston should be a problem, a big one. My R hamstring has been killing me, my L foot has been sore, and my longest run has been a 16 miler. I will reap what I sow at Boston, peoples. And that will be one big-ass crop of PAIN.

Let me tell you a little secret about running. No shortcuts. None. Ever. Not for those who under-train, who laugh clever through injuries and incompetence galore.

Only PAIN.


Look at Lovelace go tumbly…


I ate lunch in Memphis. Memphis is one of the last real towns. What I mean is that if you wander one alley off the path I clearly told you to take, you might meet up with a rusty bottle pressed against the soft flesh of your neck. Etc. A kneecap chipped, all that.

This is my family eating lunch in Memphis. We decided to order corn chips with some form of toppings–they call it “nachos” in Memphis, a regional treat, I suppose. Anyone with sense ordered nachos. Anyone with verve. What is a nacho? Why did I demand every person at the table order them or I would leave, take the beige Camry, and ram beige Camry into a cul-de-sac (cool word) wall of shrubbery?

Because I KNOW.


Wow. Goodness.



4 responses to “Easter Stumble Novella Nacho Dinner Crunky Oates.

  1. Good luck in Boston.

    15 second nacos (:30 through 2:05):

  2. hope all goes well in Boston, have a good run

  3. Thanks again for your contribution and for your insane post here.

  4. Those look like the BBQ Tofu Nachos at RP Track’s.

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