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The “real” me, released into the wild, unashamedly blunt, politically incorrect, brutally honest(in a nice way), funny, and still lovable. And still anonymous.

I told her, “I only murder on the second Tuesday of the fifth week of the thirteenth month.”

Photo by Alison Courtney on Unsplash

No, this story isn’t about me being a murderer. Although, I do “kill” with my sarcasm and satire.

No, this is about something a little more esoteric and palpable. It’s about the fear a woman feels in her everyday life. It’s about a 50-year-old woman and how she expressed to me several times how she was trusting me not to do her harm.

I didn’t do anything to threaten her. I didn’t make inappropriate innuendos. I didn’t use a threatening tone of voice. I didn’t dress in an intimidating manner. My behavior was above reproach.

I was just a man…

And that’s a great start to my birthday!

Photo by Deleece Cook on Unsplash

Yes, my lovelies. I turned 60 today (assuming the pub I submitted to published it on July 15). I am alive and sorta kicking. Well, I was when I wrote this last night.

But, hey! That’s what we old folks call an optimistic attitude. I am optimistic that I will wake up tomorrow (today) morning alive and achy from all the old people pain I have.

They say old is a “state of mind.” If you think you are old, then you will act and feel old. I don’t know who the “they” is that said that. Maybe I just…

I just don’t know if it’s a man or a woman.

Photo by Michal Wozniak on Unsplash

Friday night, I was perusing one of my dating apps in the hopes of finding someone who looked desperate enough to like me back when I noticed I already had a “like” on my profile.

I was momentarily stunned into inactivity because I wasn’t used to seeing uninitiated “likes” from women. Needless to say, I was thrilled and a little apprehensive. Thrilled because there was a real woman out there who maybe found the real me attractive. Apprehensive because, to paraphrase an old joke, “any woman who finds me attractive is not one I would want to date.”

Before I…

A mind in solitary can be a frightening mechanism for greatness.

Photo by Alexandra Nicolae on Unsplash

Self-imposed solitary confinement, reflecting on purpose, life, and the ignominy of being alone and searching for another soul to share a place in the universe, searching for new choices to inflict change upon an otherwise simple and unremarkable life.

Is the mind powerful and original because it seeks solitude? Or is it merely a cog, amongst many other cogs, spinning in reaction to others who spin mindlessly to move the greater force to success?

Don’t worship solitude like others worship religion. It just is. It’s something to be drawn to at particular moments in time, like a moth to a…

He hanged himself in his bedroom, where his family later found him.

Photo by Ian on Unsplash

It was a mid-summer’s night in 2020.

The night was alive with yelling, screaming, banging, and the sounds of destruction. Sirens could be heard in the distance.

It was late enough that I was already in bed, but my cell phone started ringing. I looked at the caller ID and saw it was my next door neighbor, Bill. He lived in the the house the noise was coming from.

I answered the phone and immediately heard a jumbled run of words in a desperate plea for help: “the cops are on the way; David is trying to break down the…

The mystery of cryptocurrency.

Photo by Clay Banks on Unsplash

A couple of weeks ago, I bought Dogecoin at .06 cents a share. I own 81, 000 shares. It cost me $5,000.

Today, I checked the price, and it was at .36 cents a share. That’s about $30,000.

I am facing the ever-present quandary of should I sell, or should I hold?

If I sell, I walk away with about a $25k profit. That’s five times my original investment.

But if I hold, three things could happen:

  1. It could drop back down to almost nothing;
  2. It could hold where it is forever;
  3. It could be the next Bitcoin and skyrocket…

One of us is missing the point.

Photo by Chris Greene on Unsplash

I met a woman on a dating app a couple of weeks ago. She checked a lot of my boxes: she had a great smile, no photos of giant false eyelashes, puffy/injected lips, or badly drawn on eyebrows.

There were no pictures of her riding a polo pony, steering a giant boat, or sitting on a ledge with Machu Picchu in the background. No kitty cat filters used, no cleavage shots, and I could see her eyes.

Her profile summary described simple things, like a love of the outdoors, healthy food, and a man who makes her laugh. It didn’t…

Adam-Henry alert!

Photo by Nicola König on Unsplash

Dear Henry,

Thank you for your kind response to my response (comment) to someone else’s story. Sometimes we call a response to a response a reply, but that would ruin the title of this article. So...

While I appreciate your offer to “promote the store to large organ view with a killing strategy,” I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.

Further, posting a marketing link, if that is what this is, in a story’s response violates the fundamental and possibly written, or maybe unwritten, rules of professionalism associated with this platform.

Besides the above, your invitation to…

Writing what you know is easy. Writing what you don’t know is a challenge.

Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

Of all the advice I have received, heard, or read, it seems the biggest piece was to “write what you know.” After, of course, the old adage, “writers write.” Which is also good advice.

Because of my position as one of Forbes’ Top 100 Wealthiest People in The World, I chose to write under a pseudonym or, as we in the pseudonym world like to call it, a pseudonym. No, just kidding! We call it an “alter.” Yes, Chuck Roast is not my real name.

When I first decided to write, I knew I would be successful because I am…

Charles H. Roast

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