With a Happy New Year comes another edition of Truckin’! Keen readers will have noticed that we’re entering the 10th year of Truckin’, champagne all around! I mean, it depends on how you count it, like Wikipedia turns 10 with regards to 10 years completed. Truckin’ on the other hand is celebrating its coming of age, as it enters the 10th year of existence. That’s amazing! I wonder if there was a party and I missed it? Damn. Pauly writes:
2011 kicks off with a diverse January issue that includes the debut of veteran cabbie and journalist Gerald C. Cruz. I’m honored that Truckin’ gets to publish his epic story involving one of four favorite topics: strippers. After a brief hiatus, May B. Yesno, returned with a gaseous tale. Dan England shared another story about living life on the edge as a mountain climber. We also have a Lebowski Fest-inspired contribution from Ernest. And lastly, I penned a bit of junkie fiction about a trustafarian dealer named Eastman.
Waiting on Eastman by Pauly
I knew Eastman was a dealer. He knew that I knew, which meant that he also knew the cardinal rule: no dealing inside the bar — especially the bathrooms and in front of the bar…
Scores by Gerald C. Cruz
“What’s the craziest thing that’s ever happened in your cab dude?” they’ll wonder, or some variation thereof. And that’s all fine and good as I don’t mind indulging a curious mind from time to time. But you know what nobody ever asks me? They never ask what my favorite ride was…
Creation Of Magely Green by May B. Yesno
The volume of her original utterances was such that the muted conversations of the minions seated on the floor of the hall ceased almost immediately and thereby allowing all of the two hundred assembled to follow the near musical confrontation of the Bass-like, prolong and drawn out, Belch and the slightly higher pitched Fart, as they played out their fanfare and slowly died away…
Conflicted Pain by Dan England
when a bunch of large rocks swept under my feet, threatened to swallow me under their granite and bashed into me, I fought for my life, flipping through the air to stop myself and walking 17 hours after I was hurt to get help from the hospital…
Lost Angle Lease by Ernest
rom the sparkling ocean, to the Dr. Seuss-like palm trees, to the not too distant mountains, the scenery was stunning. Sure, it might be chock full of self centered douchebags, but there was no denying the physical beauty of the place. Just then I looked to my right and saw the iconic Capitol Records building in the distance. Far out, man, far out…