P. B. Friedman
Bio
Touch magazine profile. My name is Paul Friedman and I write off. The wall poems, which people don't like and good ones that they do. I'm a sports freak.
The last sentence no longer holds true. My interests are dominated by feminism.
.
Stories (33/0)
Holy Enemy Number One
Paranormal ( this is my newest moniker for the poor derelict unfortunately destitute soul Vocal claims to subscribe to me ) here is your fix for the day. I remember a many years deceased person ( described on YouTube as The Late Great Jon Doe ) telling a future bandmate of his that there are lots of songs that sound like other songs. He was picking Friend Of The Devil on Max, a beater type acoustic instrument at the time and I got what was meant by the statement as a fellow amateur musician at the time of the high school variety. Yet it is rare, for the most part, that musicians are involved in a He's So Fine/My Sweet Lord style of controversy a la the late Beatles guitarist G. Harrison.
By P. B. Friedman2 years ago in Fiction
Help Aaron Ron
As if anybody is reading this, I just lost seventy or so words with a defective browser ( Dingo's ) . I was about to say that on second thought I might negate effectively this piece by discussing what for me is verboten. I refer to a certain so called adult film. I right now am interested in the monologue essentially.
By P. B. Friedman2 years ago in Beat
No Internet ( Eight Days/ A Week )
Greetings, non readership mates. I appear to be back after a week or so of enforced vacation, due to the ever popular technical difficulties and vagaries of internet service as I know it. To briefly recap, there have been lots of trivial doings, goings on and what not including a failed attempt or two at submitting pieces via phone. All in all no one has missed me nor have I missed anyone either insofar as I can tell.
By P. B. Friedman2 years ago in Humans
Nothing Innocuous, Simply A Statement
So; today I address mostly myself by the nickname Bedouins, although hypothetically I also address some random potential editorial persona non grata in some remote theoretically extant locale somewhere near a military base in Jersey. Now that this obtuse seeming ritual is done what strikes me as being somewhat noteworthy is that Tonya Snyder is now overseeing the day to day goings on of the NFL's D.C. franchise mainly because of former Super Bowl winning Redskin Head Coach Gruden ( John, not his brother Jay ) . She joins an elite club of pro sports franchise owners of the female gender, including one Georgia somebody and a certain daughter of Jerry Buss as I recall. The LA Lakers and the Rams seem to have done relatively well with women at the helm, so there is no reason to expect any drastic negativity to come from Dan Snyder's being deposed in Washington. The 'skins really cannot anticipate going anywhere but up based upon their relative state of mediocrity. Of trivial interest might be that this type of thing plays relatively nicely insofar as Hollywood portrays this type of situation, based upon what I saw of one movie of this ilk. I believe the movie was On Any Given Sunday, although no one should ( or does ) take me as a quotable, infallible source on such matters of little or no significance.
By P. B. Friedman2 years ago in Fiction
Ever Been To Electric Lady Land?
Today's fictional readers are going to be known as the Balloons but not in honor of a former classmate of mine and his nicknaming someone Balloon. It just sort of rhymes with the Jim Rome Clones or comes close enough to doing so as far as I am concerned. He even addresses his audience in Old Trapper radio spots as Clones; who am I to argue with success?
By P. B. Friedman2 years ago in Fiction
I Suck The Zinc Out Of The Kinks ( Of Thailand )
Maybe I will address my ever so minute readership which someday hopefully may reach potentially the miniscule level by the term Drones today at least. It would be tacky I suppose to pick a different term with every potential submission and far be it from me to fail to step to the shallow or the absurd in order to entertain myself. What I cannot determine is why I'm doing this when there ought to be something else to occupy one's time.
By P. B. Friedman2 years ago in Beat
Sometimes I Orate, Dissertate And Exacerbate
Blood Clots ( my satire of J. Rome's radio show term describing listeners as Clones ) Frankie ( Martinelli? ) temporarily or permanently deleted/trashed roughly seven/eight hundred words of ours along with the other garbage. Talk about a relief society function as we used to say at church.
By P. B. Friedman3 years ago in Fiction
Johansson O'Hara Scarlett
My first idea this afternoon, the day after Columbus Day Weekend had to do with what seems to have been as fictitious a contract as ever existed, the ten year deal between the Las Vegas Raiders of the NFL and one J. Gruden This deal fizzled they say, like the unrealistic nonsense it seemed to be; no coach is able to guarantee he will stay productively atop the athletic world that long and Mr. Gruden never even reached consistency in the three years that he had to do so.
By P. B. Friedman3 years ago in Humans
Why Reveal Details On Social Media?
It is always sunny in Jackson, MS; and in the former Soviet Union for that matter or so I am led to believe. This holds true most definitely when one's subsidized government housing landlord inspects one's digs, deciding that foil should be removed from a stovetop burner or two. After all the manager assures one that the complex intends to simultaneously break open the coffers and...well, maybe you get the idea.
By P. B. Friedman3 years ago in Confessions
Billy Likes Ta' Peel The Labels Off His Bottles Of Bud
What's frustrating, I think to myself? One thing that bothers me is that for perhaps a second time I have felt that I had a surplus of ideas for a piece and failed to do much of anything about it. I left hundreds of words untyped because I felt pressured to submit. If I would have taken the weekend to complete the piece there's no telling how long it might have been. Of course the reality of things is that however many more old geezer references to even somewhat profound lyricism would not have amounted to the proverbial hill of beans.
By P. B. Friedman3 years ago in Fiction
Half Assed Hallows Eve
Graveyard Smash seems at first blush what hoops players refer to a lay in equaling, a gimme. Any idiot can figure somebody here recalls Monster Mash Party; it makes a good launching point. I personally liked the theme music to a certain kiddie show who's initials were H. R. P., as in " Who'll be there when things get tough " and can't get a little if ya' can't get enough...or something. I like Jane Pauley's husband's fictional quote of Robert Zimmerman which said " I just want to make it rhyme, man " .
By P. B. Friedman3 years ago in Beat
