The Rest of the Story

by Tal Bauer

dropped into the sadistic kind of mind fuck that would have made a Zen Buddhist monk climb the walls and swing from a chandelier.

I love the picture this paints

Lawson, a ghost when I’d first met him, had gained fifteen pounds and rediscovered his inner teddy bear. I’m a traditionalist: I like my goalies chubby, and Lawson was a beaut.

Brody and Lawson had gone pedal-to-the-metal into a Bonnie and Clyde, ride-or-die friendship.

Still here with my Brody and Lawson love

They were peanut butter and jelly: Brody was nuts, Lawson was sweet, and together, they could hallelujah the county.

I love these two, I want a full book about them.

I’ve known guys who are best friends in the dressing room that want to murder each other once they hit 30,000 feet.

Flying is such a personal thing. I will not fly in the same row as anyone I know. Ever.

Coates’ Last Cult Supper.

I still giggle about this

Don’t do this to me, Shea. Don’t be wonderful.

My Heart.