Author: Brad Willis

A couple of pictures from Halloween night from my Flickr account. Saving the world, one suburb at a time. Also, as I wrote on the Flickr description, for a kid who gets next to...

My Internet footprint is bigger than it should be. I write regularly on three blogs. I have Flickr, Buzznet, and Twitter accounts. I have a MySpace and Facebook pages (both, grudgingly). All of that,...

I was about to go to a Halloween party that required a costume for entry. With my work schedule now a little lighter, I took an afternoon trip to Target with my wife. “The...

There have been few people in my career who I actually set out to impress. There have been few people who have actually given me chances I didn’t deserve. There have been fewer still...

It was a tight night at The Royale. We’d walked through one of the first chilly nights in St. Louis and the bar and fire-dotted patio were packed with drinkers. I stood in a...

Well, I sure needed that. More to come when I again start thinking like a person from the real world. Labels: Mental Massage

There are two hard things about the Lake Eden Arts Festival. The first hard thing is the getting there. The actual road trip is easy. From where I sit, it’s only an hour and...

“I’m an import killer,” Ray said through a cloud of blue dust. Ray had two packs of menthol cigarettes shoved in the front pocket of his work shirt shirt. At mid-afternoon on a sunny...

Six years ago, I did my job as a journalist. I worked a story hard. I was proud of myself. In the time since then, my life has changed so many times and in...

I did the math. By the time I get up from this chair, I will have spent the better part of 32 days sitting on my ass and staring at a computer screen. Like,...

I just spent nearly three weeks on the graveyard shift. You’d really be surprised how dead the world becomes between midnight at 6am ET. People must really like this sleeping thing. By 2am, I’d...

These days, it’s rare for the wife and I to go out for a good meal. Unless there is a shark hanging from the ceiling, a hostess with a packet of crayons, or a...

I’m a fescue man, matured from youth as a fescue boy, a time where I spent summer nights with my bare feet buried in dewy three-inch blades of it. During July days, I’d pick...

This week finds me too overwhelmed with make-money work to do the not-make-so-much-money work here. I’m working some odd hours and find myself up late most nights watching whatever I can find on TV....