Friday

Wed Redding




LOBO
-Predator Press

"Look" I says.  "Divorce is extremely likely.  People have been marrying for hundreds of years, and Humanity still hasn't cracked the code."

I grab her hands.  "I promise you.  If science ever figures out why people get married, I will get good at science."

Monday

Happily Ever Aftershocks


LOBO -Predator Press

So ya, I guess I owe it to the millions and millions of readers who are always asking me evey day "What ever happened to LOBO?"

And to a lesser degree, "... and Wendy?"

Wendy and I had an amazing Christmas ... dancing in the cool moonlight listening to Tychovski, and admiring the beauty of fresh snow under bright stars. But sometime around 7:15am, relatives showed up and gave us Covid.

So we had a solid 3-4 hours of joy and cheer, but all the new January and February murders got bumped down the schedule: frozen ground is too hard to dig inconspicuous shallow graves in. And due to the spike in demand, many of these holiday murders will have to be pushed back until April ... possibly even May!

[*sigh*] I know. Same as last year.

Our New Year's Resolution is to get more cardio.

Malibu


LOBO -Predator Press



Tuesday

Pocket Full of Posies



LOBO -Predator Press

Just started my first vacation in a decade, and OMG I am soooo bored.

Expect some short stories.

:)

Emperor Erroneous


LOBO
-Predator Press

"Well congratulations," says says Gina, looking up from her newspaper.

The idea of a Google employee reading a newspaper always cracks me up.

"For what?"  In a bathrobe, I'm just trying to get an iced coffee.

"Wendy told us you proposed to her."

Goddamit I need to get my own refrigerator upstairs.

Wincing and scratching my eyebrow, I reply "We had a conversation about getting married.  It was purely academic I thought."

I've been awake eight seconds, and I'm already in a death roll.

"We were all surprised too," she shrugged.

"I hate marriage," I explain, holding my head.  "I give up my job, friends, family, home, pets, car, sex, and all worldly possessions that don't fit in a backpack."  I surmise.  "And there is way too much yelling."

"You're exaggerating" she says.  "You've been dating her for, like, five years.  She definitely loves you."

"Wendy is the first person I've dated since the divorce," I admit.  "Do I want her to turn into a vile screaming jealous lying hypocrite adulterous racist psycho-shrew proliferating computer malware already?  No.  I think we are doing just fine as we are."

I twist the coffee cap off with a satisfying "pop" sound.

"I actually kinda like her," I elaborate.  "Why rush it?"

Saturday

MAMBA




Predator Press


[LOBO]

Millions and millions of readers are always asking me every day, "LOBO, where are you at with current day politics?"

I have founded the "Make America More Boring Again" party, aka MAMBA.

We promise to do absolutely nothing. All you need is footie pajamas.

Nancy Pelosi tucks us in after milk and cookies.

Quiet


LOBO
-Predator Press

I've told so many crazy stories about how I blew up my shoulder two months ago, the boring truth will likely be lost to history.

"I was playing for the 49ers."

"The Kama Sutra doesn't come with warning labels!"

"The MMA put me in the wrong weight class," or

"An old friend bet me I couldn't stick a one-and-a-half somersault with a half twist from a janky Craig's List pommel horse."

-Then, with a straight face, I conclude with "I can't talk about it per the settlement agreement."

But this got me thinking about Predator Press again.  Here we both are at the end of the world.

The problem with writing Predator Press is that it isn't a memoir. Yuck.  I can't think of anything more pretentious and boring than some douchebag's memoir, let alone mine.  But framed as quasi-fictional humor, all the names, dates, locations and scenarios have been changed to protect the guilty to such an extent, even I am having issues tracking this, er, "story."

So I'm going to try and rewind a little bit.  The early parts of the past decade were admittedly pretty shitty, and, a pisspoor humorist, I stayed trying to be funny.  On a Cosmic scale, I think that was what I was born to do.  But while I obfuscated myself so no one had to see the ongoing relentless shitshow, life slowly and incrementally got better.

And I wouldn't tackle such a project it unless it had a happy ending -well, as happy an ending as 2020 will allow.

Welcome to History.

Friday

All That Sweet Library Money

LOBO -Predator Press


As I throw the switch, I explain "It's time to put on your put on your protective goggles and safety chapstick."

The turbines whine to life.

"So this is how you spend your free time?"

"What?" I says. "I can't hear you."

She leans her mouth to my ear: "SO THIS IS HOW YOU SPEND YOUR FREE TIME?"

It is at this moment I simultateously realize women are imposible to understand, and her hair looks amazing.

"I had my bedroom fans replaced with P-51 Mustang plane engines so it would seem more comfortable and peaceful," I confess. "Those Messerschmitt engines made everything smell like gasoline."