I was gruntled once as a child, but I somehow survived to tell the story.
I’m finally in a place where I can now talk honestly about the whole experience.
newsletters
Florida’s return to normalcy, or at least what passes for normal.
Expect any hugging to be awkward and unnatural until 2023 at the earliest.
Surviving our inevitable dystopian future (hope you’re a strong swimmer).
We were warned about this. By Kevin Costner, of all people.
Thinking for yourself is overrated according to my new mind-control chip.
Was I becoming a mindless cog in the ruling establishment’s New World Order?
Let’s talk about lawn maintenance and murder.
Below my lawn’s yellowing surface grass—unbeknownst to me—certain death was waiting.
How a reader’s comment inspired me to exploit my friends.
Writing this newsletter is a thankless and unnecessary job, but if I don’t do it, who will?
How I got lots of new subscribers (no seriously, I’m asking).
Recently, for reasons I can’t entirely figure out, one of my travel reports blew up.
The CrosbyReport™ quantum conundrum.
Who gets my email newsletter and who doesn’t? Only the subatomic realm knows for sure.
Sadly, the lizard situation at my home does not end well.
I spend most of my waking hours staring out my window at “Craig,” a horny brown anole lizard.