Chuck Junk

Native, Militant Westsylvanian (the first last best place), laborer, gardener, and literary hobbyist (if by literary you mean "hack"). I've had a bunch of different blogs, at least four, due to a recurring compulsion to start over. This incarnation owes to a desire to dredge up the best entries of the worst little book of hand-scrawled poems I could ever dream of writing, salvageable excerpts from fiction both in progress and long-abandoned. and a generous helping of whatever the hell seems to fit at any particular moment. At first blush, I was here just to focus on old, terrible verse, at this point anything is on the table. I'm a big, and surly most of the time, but prone to sudden bouts of inexplicable whimsy and occasional idiocy. Get used to it. I like pulp novels, growing garlic and eating it, oftern raw, and I hate--that's right, hate--bullies and loudmouths. I'm intensely excited about all things Pittsburgh, especially the Steelers, and have been known to howl at the moon--both figuratively and, on rare occasions, literally.