I was scrolling through Facebook the other day, and I saw something that surprised me. I saw that many of my former high school classmates were saying that Gary Mertz passed away at the age of fifty-four. He was survived by his wife, three kids, and two grandchildren. While I felt bad for his family and their loss, I was actually a little happy that he was gone. You see Gary was my bully, from first grade to twelfth, he c...

After hearing the news of Gary Mertz’s death, I called my assistant and told her to cancel all my productions for the next two weeks and to pay the performers their respective kill fees. When my assistant asked why, I informed her I was returning to Michigan for a funeral. After she offered her condolences, I hung up. If I had to be honest with myself, I wasn’t really going back for the services; I was going back to truly...

I hate nostalgia. I consider it a powerful drug. When you believe the good old days were the best time of your life, you’re not living in the moment, and you might truly be missing out on the best time of your life. My personal belief is that every day should be better than the last, and you should never dwell on things you missed out on or wrong decisions you’ve made because they were never meant to be. Yet after I arriv...

After settling into my hotel room, I started scrolling through YouTube. Since I was still feeling nostalgic, I started searching for old Detroit commercials. I smiled as I watched ads for Faygo, Boblo Island, Mel Farr Superstar, and my dad’s law firm. As the spot played, I actually started crying. The last time I saw him was at his sentencing in January 1987. When I was a kid, he was my hero. Every Saturday, we’d go to Pu...

I left Michigan with Annie, my little sister, the day after I graduated high school in June 1987. After crossing the Michigan/Indiana border, I swore I’d never return. With the exception of layovers at Detroit Metro Airport, it was a promise I kept to myself, at least until Gary Mertz died. Once I saw that a bunch of my old classmates, including Kimberly Crane, were going to be attending the funeral, I decided to break my...

When I woke up the next morning, Johanna was long gone. After continuous fucking during the late afternoon and early evening away, she needed to get home before her boyfriend got suspicious. Even though she gave me her phone number, I doubted that I would ever call her. While she was a charming young lady, and I enjoyed having sex with her, I didn’t want another jilted lover to blame me for the problems in their relations...

I arrived at the Fred Wood Funeral Home right before eleven in the morning. Eric Clapton’s “Tears of Heaven” was playing over the speakers. I could overhear an older woman in the row in front of me whisper, “I’m sick of hearing this song at memorial services,” to the gentleman sitting to her left. I couldn’t disagree with her. Out of the last ten funerals I attended, at least seven of them featured this song. For a brief...

As Nina’s eyes and mine locked in the chapel of the Fred Wood Funeral Home, I figured we were both thinking about my mom walking in on the two of us as I was shooting my load all over Nina’s back, the bed, and the black robe she borrowed from my mom’s closet. I know that some of you are thinking that after Nina eventually returned from the bathroom, my mom joined us for a steamy threesome. That did not happen. After Nina...

Gary’s funeral was over. It ended with a powerful eulogy from his oldest son. He talked about taking his parents to Europe a few months ago and how it profoundly changed his dad's view of the world. As he walked along the streets of Paris, Berlin, and London, Gary saw that the world was bigger and more beautiful than the city he had lived in his entire life and that the planet didn’t revolve around the red, white, and blu...

In my head I was rehearsing what I’d say to Kimberly once she walked through the doors of Stables Bar & Grill. I couldn’t believe I was this nervous about talking with a woman I had been intimate with during our final two years of high school. Yet for some reason the butterflies were swarming around my stomach. I breathed in as a portion of our graduating class started filling the bar. Some classmates came around my table...

“Relax,” Paul said as the waitress brought him another beer and another lemonade for me. “There’s no reason to be nervous, bud; she’s just the one who got away.” When I last saw Kimberly Crane, we didn’t part on the best of terms. I told her that I loved her, and she told me that she couldn’t be with me as long as Tommy Rodz existed. I was so stupid that I didn’t stop doing porn for a living. I could have been with the wo...