Articles by Dr. Bones

If the movin’ and shakin’s of the Luck Plane are any indication it appears 2017 will be a defining point in the death of large political collectives in favor of smaller and smaller sects, a never ending war of 10,000 fronts fought not for dominance but for vendetta.


Perhaps the fates had finally turned against humanity. What other explanation existed for a mercury retrograde coming right after the most batshit election the American people had ever suffered?
















In a country with a youth unemployment rate of 23.50% some unknown proletarians brought home the terror and degradation they face on a daily basis to one of the most despised creatures ever to crawl out of the cesspool that is the “celebrity scene.”




Broken, bloodied, my stomach churned to pieces. I stumble to awaken, one eye open gathering at fragments of memories. What had happened? My phone is filled with late night calls to any writers I could think of and though the conversations are forgotten their urgent message snaps back to the forefront of my mind





I laugh in the face of death, make horrible crude jokes, and just generally find some measure of joy in situations where others might cry or wail. I’m the kind of guy that finds shit like this hilarious: