Dylan Lightfoot:  

Life She was a seething red Eldorado with automatic weapons in the trunk. I was a helcopter pilot haunted by memories of screaming peasants and feelings of crippling inadequacy. We lived in the back seat of an junked Model A Ford and drank "grape flavored wine product" to stay warm. She bore me two children then split with a junkie body-piercing technician, leaving me the babies, the cast iron skillet, and half a pack of clove cigarettes. I grew bitter, then met Jesus at a trolley stop in San Diego. He stole my wallet, containing all forty of my dollars, but was kind enough to leave me my expired drivers liscense. I failed at academe, but was a stellar ornamental iron worker. I got infested with crabs from a mattress in a halfway house in Salina, Kansas, tattooed in Louisville, Kentucky, and fell in love with no less than fourteen younger women in New Orleans, including a tryst with a live-in nanny. I was as dumb as the metaphorical bag of hammers. They worked me like a borrowed mule. Cut grass at a cemetery, smashed concrete with a nine pound sl...Expand for more