So, this is where I’m suppose to talk about myself in the third-person and explain all the wonderful things I’ve done with this life that I have been given. I believe, though, that I do enough of that third person crap on the timeline.
(I’m not a real Hippie Killer, I just play one on Twitter)
So again, let’s cut to the chase. I think that you may have better things to do than to read my bio, and I despise talking about myself. I prefer to let the characters in my stories do the talking for me. They lead much more fascinating lives than I do. And they always have the truth.
ON HAVING A RUINED SOUL
A guy wearing a custom tailored suit said try this. Apollo took the baggie from the man and dumped it’s contents into a heap on the mirror. When he inhaled the white powder through a straw, his gaze never left the reflection of his own eyes. Maybe this would be the stuff to end all the noise of life. It was excellent crank. It chased away the that insipid pain that had haunted him forever. But it also silenced those voices that brought him the words, the words that the band, the fans and this guy in the expensive suit wanted. Apollo, you’re going to be the voice of your generation, the guy in the suit said. You’re going to be famous . . .
A guy wearing a custom tailored suit said try this. Apollo took the baggie from the man and dumped it’s contents into a heap on the mirror. When he inhaled the white powder through a straw, his gaze never left the reflection of his own eyes. Maybe this would be the stuff to end all the noise of life. It was excellent crank. It chased away the that insipid pain that had haunted him forever. But it also silenced those voices that brought him the words, the words that the band, the fans and this guy in the expensive suit wanted. Apollo, you’re going to be the voice of your generation, the guy in the suit said. You’re going to be famous . . .
~From Listen As The Children Scream by d.o.Foreman
It was 1983 and I was 17 years old. I was a Hard Rock Vocalist known as Apollo James. That guy in the cool suit was the record company executive who signed my band. Two weeks before we were scheduled to record our first album, I ruptured my vocal chords while performing. Live fast, die young and leave a good looking corpse. Rock and Roll can change the world. I bought into that dream. I lived it. Almost died for it, several times. The drugs have been gone a long time now, but pieces of the dream remain. The voice of my generation? Maybe me and my generation just needed a little time to grow up.
THE BOUNTY HUNTER THING
They faced one another from opposite ends of the lonely little bridge. This stops here, the Bounty Hunter said. There are still others that need killing, after you, the Preacher proclaimed. The blue grayness of the Oregon afternoon fell about them with a twisted surrealism. It was every Hollywood cliche’ come to life. Indeed, the Bounty Hunter thought, the man he faced cut a magnificent figure, a gunslinger just stepped from the streets of the old west. Except for the Preacher collar around his neck. Pray, hissed the Preacher. To your God or mine, asked the Bounty Hunter, his words set adrift as the Reverend Roy Rain filled his hand with fire . . .
They faced one another from opposite ends of the lonely little bridge. This stops here, the Bounty Hunter said. There are still others that need killing, after you, the Preacher proclaimed. The blue grayness of the Oregon afternoon fell about them with a twisted surrealism. It was every Hollywood cliche’ come to life. Indeed, the Bounty Hunter thought, the man he faced cut a magnificent figure, a gunslinger just stepped from the streets of the old west. Except for the Preacher collar around his neck. Pray, hissed the Preacher. To your God or mine, asked the Bounty Hunter, his words set adrift as the Reverend Roy Rain filled his hand with fire . . .
~From Draw The Line by d.o.Foreman
I have worn many hats, as they say. I have been called many things. I am not a caped crusader scouring the streets in the name of justice. I hunted human beings for money. I am a single father and I needed to feed my son. Yes, I do hate injustice and I’ve seen first hand the degradation of our justice system. I have also seen humanity at it’s worse. There are many stories that never see the light of day due to the corruption of our law organizations. The crime stories I tell are all based on truth. I do not like violence or guns, but I live with both. I am professionally proficient at both. Such is our world.
PRE-EXISTING CONDITIONS
LIFE HAPPENS . . .
LIFE HAPPENS . . .
It was suggested to me to use this website as a platform for the advancement of my writing career. The quandary I face is that I must reserve the majority of my stories for the possibility of paid publication elsewhere. I do not make a living with my words. In fact, I have not had any income whatsoever come into my household for over a year, and as of this writing, I am facing the end of my savings. I am explaining this situation for one very important reason that has engulfed my world over the past few years. I was one of those people who lived without the benefit of health insurance. “Just an illness away from total devastation” I believe is the tag line the media uses to describe this issue. When I became ill three years ago, I lost everything. My business, my home – my life, essentially. My family and I were homeless for several months. This is a very real tragedy that infects our country. If homelessness can happen to me, it can happen to anyone. Keeping a roof over my family’s head is still a weekly struggle. Life does not offer any guarantees. But laws and attitudes need to change in America. Instead of imposing our will on the rest of the world, maybe we should clean up our own backyard.
