Jason Alan. Writer, Character.

Short stories, rants, poetry, novels under construction… and look, cows!


It’s time to unsubscribe.

Many of us are guilty (me included) of following a bunch of blogs, facebook users, tweeters, et cetera, just in hopes that they will follow us back and pump up our numbers. Get our message out. Open them up to our lofty worldview and blah blah blah. Well I, for one, am done with that bullshit.

I’m unsubscribing. To everyone. I hope you show me the same courtesy. Quit pretending like you give a damn. I know I don’t. I don’t read your blogs. I don’t watch your videos. I have been suspended from twitter so many times I just gave up, so I definitely don’t read your tweets. I’ve been working on getting facebook followers and after ten plus years, I am now up to maybe twenty-four.

Fuck it. I’m dumping all of you. I’ll still post, because I’m a narcissist. Somebody has to be reading this crap, although it’s probably only me reading my own worthless drivel. So if you don’t read this, then don’t follow me anymore. And for God’s sake, stop spending hours of your day liking posts that you know very well that you don’t read just in the off chance that someone will like your post that they also didn’t read. Have some respect for others, and most of all yourself.

Do yourselves and the world a favor. Unsubscribe to my blog today.

I’m Back (Who Cares?)

Exactly. Who does care?

I have been away for a while, partly because I haven’t had more than a phone or a tablet. Now that I have a computer, I can get back to the business of writing shit for virtually no money. Maybe that can start to change, though. I just took advantage of a free $30 credit for facebook ads to drive people here. It’s not much, but it could get the ball rolling and hopefully one day I’ll be swimming in 50 Shades type money.


(Disclaimer: I don’t write that kind of bullshit).

So, you may ask yourself, what am I doing here, and why should I care? I suppose it’s because you can get some free ebooks. I have five so far, self published on the ol’ amazon, but since they now take 2/3rds instead of their previous 1/3rd cut, I don’t want to use them anymore. Except to leave them up to have a platform for reviews. Instead, at least for the time being, I have decided to give them away and hope people think they’re good enough to donate a buck or two.

Also, of course, I have this blog, which goes back many years. I hope you enjoy it, and let me know what you think. Even if you hate it.

Jason Alan Author Page

PayPal Donations

P.S. If you see a book or books you like on my author page, my email is jasonyenglin at gmail. I’ll be glad to send you something.


Terrorists hate America, but people focus too much on the religion aspect. Sure, that’s part of it, but I think a bigger chunk of it is that we. Have. Everything.

If you like to drink, alcohol is legal in every state. If you like to smoke weed, about half the states have medical marijuana and a couple of states (great fucking states, I might add) have done the balls out move of just legalizing it altogether. You’re an adult, smoke up. Imagine that, in the land of the free.

If you like warm climates, we have Georgia. If you like warm climates, senior citizens and crazy people, we got Florida.

If you want cold weather, we got Maine, Montana and North Dakota. Ok fine, Minnesota too. If you prefer the cold and smoking weed (yeah I mentioned that twice already), we got Washington state. If you want bite your nipples off cold, we offer you Alaska.

You love corn and shitty metal bands, go to Iowa. If you like potatoes and fucked out jokes about being a ho, we got Idaho.

If you like island paradise, spam and poi, we have Hawaii. Oh yes, and volcanoes could brutally murder you any day now…

If you want to live in the desert, well, first of all, you’re an idiot, but if you do, we have Arizona and New Mexico. If you like the desert and gambling and high priced hookers, we have Nevada.

If you like Mexicans, ironically enough, you don’t necessarily go to New Mexico. You go to Texas or California. Speaking of Cali and Texas, we not only have fantastic beaches, we have two fucking oceans AND the gulf of Mexico. Suck it, every other country.

If you like lovers, move to Virginia. If you’re a lover of incest, move to West Virginia.

If you like brainless, inbred hicks, go to Kentucky. If you like brainless, inbred hicks and Indian casinos, we have Oklahoma.

If you like river boat gambling, bourbon, tits for beads and horrible French accents, take a trip to Louisiana.

If you like walking down the street where the only people who make eye contact with you are the ones who are trying to grift you, fuck you or both, we have New York.

If you love God and dislike suspenders, we have the bible belt.

Back to religion, oh yeah, we have plenty of that.

We have Catholics, Muslims, Buddhists, atheists, Mormons, Chinese Christians, atheists, agnostics, Hindus, Scientologists, Jews, Jews for Jesus, Taoists, Spiritualists, Pagans, Christians that like gays, Christians that hate fags, Wiccans, and various cults where old bearded dudes play guitar and molest fourteen year old girls. But my favorite is The Church of Euthanasia. Some of their slogans include “Save the Planet, Kill Yourself”, “Six Billion Humans Can’t Be Wrong”, and “Eat a Queer Fetus for Jesus”. Personally, I’m an agnostic, but if I had to pick one, sign me up for the religion of satire.

If you like mountains, we have plenty of them.  We even have Mount Rushmore. In this country, even a beautiful, majestic granite mountain is too boring for us. We had to carve faces into them. The visages of so-called great leaders. One of whom helped to free the slaves, two slave owners, and one that was elected after the abolition, who probably wished he had a few free negros to help out with the more menial tasks at the white house.

If you want lakes, we have a shit ton of those. We even have man made reservoirs, and of course, The Great Lakes. Suck it, other lakes.

If you like big ass holes in the ground, we have the Grand Canyon. If you like big assed hoes, we have Nicki Minaj. Is she American? I should probably google it when I’m talking shit about someone, but fuck it.

We have a good neighbor and a couple of bad ones. Canada is the good one. It could be argued that the band Loverboy is the worst thing they have ever brought us, but I suppose Kids in the Hall and Trailer Park Boys makes up for it. The really bad one is Cuba, and don’t give me shit about bad mouthing Mexico. If it’s so good, then why do they keep risking their life walking through the desert to come here?

We even have the ever elusive honest politicians. They don’t get elected, but we still have them.

America has everything you could possibly want. Sex, drugs and rock and roll. Wine, women and song. Trannies, THC and techno. We got it all, baby doll. And that’s why the terrorists hate us. Plus, we have bigger dicks (and smaller pussies).

Hey God

Hey God. I must say that I was fairly certain I’d never see you. I was agnostic when I was alive.

I know, Jason. I am God the Almighty, creator of everything and all that jazz. But I have to send you back. You died too early. Clerical error.

Wait, but aren’t you infallible and omnipotent? How could you possibly make a mistake?

It wasn’t mine. You know how humans like to get drunk and/or high on something, or meditate or exercise?  For me, I shut down what you would think of as my brain for a while and let the angels handle the multiverse.

I knew it. Multiverse. Fuck yeah. Anyway, before I go back to life as I know it, can I ask you a few questions?

Sure. I already know what they are, but go ahead and inquire my son.

Ok cool. So, why exactly did you make our waste and sexual organs not only so close together, but some even exactly the same? Seriously, why do I piss and drop off semen from the same place?

*puts holy fingers to his temples* Life is very complicated to make properly. You aren’t smart enough to understand. Or, you could be dreaming and I don’t exist.

I’m not falling for that shit. You’re real, I can tell. I’ll let you slide on that question but what about this one. When I go back, can I tell anyone I met you?

Yes, but most likely you will be thought of as crazy.

Good point. Alright, what if I tell them about the multiverse thing? I know that it’s true now.

But of course, nothing more scientifically viable than ‘God told me’. Remind them I spoke to you through your dog.



Well, I suppose I’m ready to go back. Thanks, God, I’m enchanted, truly. One last question. How did I die?


Huh. I guess I figured that. Probably alcohol poisoning or coke.

No, but close. It was aspirin. You mistook them for oxy.

Ain’t that a bitch. If I took the equivalent of oxy, I’d have survived.

Of course.

Ok. Bye for now God. Nice to meet you.

Peace out, nigga. Keep it real.

Don’t Talk to Strangers

I was the oldest of nine brothers and sisters. As a kid they tell you to not talk to strangers, but every time your mother gets pregnant she’s not only talking to them, she brings them into the house. That’s what newborns are, really, to everyone. Strangers. I’m guessing you didn’t get to know them much in the womb. Not much of a conversationalist while floating around in amniotic fluid, not typing many emails, texting or facebooking. You don’t know what kind of person this is. Your brother could one day become a serial killer or worse, a Christian conservative.

I never trusted where they came from either. When I was four or five, I figured out that babies came from mommy and daddy. I felt screwed either way. Before I had the first sibling, the last thing that came out of mom’s stomach was chili and vodka. And I’ve smelled the bathroom, I don’t trust anything that comes from my dad’s pants.

But we’re all grown up now, and I can say that I’m glad to have all of them in my life. I can say that, but I won’t. Fuck those assholes. Except for the one who actually did become a serial killer. I kinda like him. It’s hard to borrow money from me and not pay it back while you’re in prison.

i, the wordsmith


i, the wordsmith,

forge felonious phrases

in dank diction dungeons;

a half-full kerfuffle

of crestfallen curmudgeons.

i, the wordsmith,

construct metaphors,

maxims and mottos in

valleys of vivacious verbiage.

drinking inspiration

blowing words in the smoke;

the greenest of the foliage.

i, the wordsmith,

deliver the hammer;

with an arch boldly true,

vainly accurate.

striking song, pounding prose.

bringing them to a close

with this, that, these and those.

i, the wordsmith,

punctuate sentences

with the comedy

of constant conflict

an emoticonvict

with wet eyes and dry wit.

my mind the drill, the rhyme the bit.

Crafting with colons and commas,

As an actor unfolding the drama


i, the wordsmith,

post paragraphs aplenty

pouring out pages

profusely pushing to apprehend a penny.

i punctuate with nouns

on literary ground

that is structurally sound

i, the wordsmith,

put tongues in cheeks

accents on letters like days on weeks.

thoughts on black and white

alphabetical peeks.

i, the wordsmith,

chip away at the brick and mortar.

drop the vernacular off at the border.

of reality, arranged and deranged

in tidy arrays of disorder.

i, the wordsmith,

sculpt blistering expression;

shaped with formidable fury

sparks fly, composing

incandescent symphonies of worry-

pulsating, reverberating

among the corridors of thought:

the imagination of the reader.


Florida is a fucked up state. YouTube commenters are even more fucked up.

A few weeks ago, a man in Tallahassee was jerking off to a youtube video of a woman crushing a live bird with her high heel.

The first comment was a woman in London wondering if she could get a pair of Prada shoes in bird blood red, and a matching Coach bag.

The second comment was a woman in New Hampshire saying how dare you, that’s disgusting. You don’t wear Coach and Prada together you sick bitch.

The third comment was by a starving kid in Zimbabwe and it said hey lady, you gonna eat that bird?

Then the comments degenerated into nonsensical arguments between people who have never and will never meet. They end up calling each other names like Jew faggot and saying I hope you get hit by a bus full of retarded nigger children with AIDS and Hep C.

Then someone compared that person to Hitler and me, I was reading through all this while watching reruns of Better Call Saul and laughing at those crazy fucks, the cum on my stomach drying up as I wondered… should I come back to Florida again or no?

%d bloggers like this: