Lon Casler Bixby
Lon Casler Bixby is a published author: Fiction, Poetry, Humor, & Comic Books. He's also an award-winning photographer whose work has been featured in magazines, art & coffee table books, & in Art Galleries throughout the world.
(Sleep) Walking My Dog in the Middle of the Night
Like most normal people I have a nightly routine. Around 9 PM I take my dog, Silver, an 11 year old, 111 lb. Silver Labrador Retriever for her last walk of the day. Then I get ready for bed, wash my face, brush my teeth, do all the things that need to be done, and crawl under the covers by 10 PM. I usually scroll for about an hour, then read for another, and finally turn the light off by midnight.
I AM NEO: A Faux-Fictional Tale of the Adventures of a Porn Photographer
Chapter 1 – Picking up a Babe in Sin City – A Totally True Tale My Mum lives in Las Vegas. Picture this… Retired old lady, cruising around the casinos on her little electric scooter, oxygen tank hanging off the back, cigarette hanging out of her mouth, and one arm bigger than the other because she arm-wrestles one-armed bandits all day – you know the type.
A Visit from my Dad
My dad came to visit me last night. But it’s probably not what you think. I live in Burbank, California – almost thirty years now. My dad lives 3000 miles away in East Greenwich, Rhode Island. He’s been there for almost all of his eighty-eight years. He’s a great guy. Loving. Caring. Good sense of humor, and always leaves people with a smile. But he’s also the kind of dad that will seldom call, much less come for a visit.
Wow! Where to begin? For weeks, before the feature film “Cuties” had been released, I was seeing lots of triggered “Karens & Kens” freaking out over the description of the movie and its trailer; a movie they haven’t even seen yet; a movie they probably will not see for themselves; a movie where they base their rants solely on the rambling opinions of others; a movie that they have already made up their minds is the worst thing on God’s green earth; a movie that… Well, you get the idea.
A Quest for Lettuce
Last night was difficult, to say the least. I like to be in bed early. Nine, ten o’clock at the latest. Relax. Read, and drift peacefully off to sleep. But at about quarter till nine last night, I made the mistake of looking in my fridge. Empty.