Paul Mooney

I love casinos. They’re giant, glowing, disorienting temples to the American Dream: fortunes attained through pure luck, dished out by smiling men in vests or busty semi-strippers in corsets (in the best ones). Thanks to the time I lived in the scenic Mojave Desert (official motto: Nothing Beats the Heat Like Crystallized Methamphetamine!) near Las […]

The military can often be a funny thing. Like that drunken toga party the rest of Kilo Battery’s staff and I had on Okinawa. Or when Major General John Sedgwick shouted to his men “They couldn’t hit an elephant at this distance!” moments before he was shot in the face at the Battle of Spotsylvania […]