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Mark Flanigan
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To Whom It May Concern

0 Comments · Tuesday, May 22, 2012
I have a human being. This can be quite unnerving at times. The human being worries: thinks about its history, its government, its future. The human being even thinks about us. The human being cries. Its tears roll down my screen like rain off a window.   

The Sobriety Diary

0 Comments · Tuesday, May 8, 2012
I once felt as if I had perfected the chemical alchemy needed for me to write with some success. I won’t disclose the exact contents of my proprietary blend, seeing as I may yet trademark it, but one might assume that my equivalent of liquid courage is not the healthiest of cocktails.   

How To Make an Impression

0 Comments · Tuesday, April 24, 2012
As soon as I was admitted into the emergency room, the first thing the doctor asked was, “What happened?” I answered: “I’m pretty sure I’m the only person who ever broke his ankle while playing golf.”   

The Unknown and the Unknowable

1 Comments · Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Because it is my lot in life as a writer — however anonymous — to speak of things that are entertaining and/or truthful, I find myself often torn. Especially now that I am post-40, going on 60. But I’m an open book, if nothing else. The only remaining question is whether said book’s ending is good or bad.   

Glad I’m Not There

0 Comments · Wednesday, March 28, 2012
The loneliest I’ve ever been was when I moved from Cincinnati to Los Angeles at age 20. My ultimate destination being San Francisco, I had stopped there to hang out with my best friend for a bit.   

The St. Patrick’s Day Massacre

0 Comments · Tuesday, March 13, 2012
I was celebrating the fruition of what I had recently recognized as my life-long dream of becoming an authentic life coach by printing my online diploma, when there was a knock at the door. “Come in,” I said. With his white shirt and well-coiffed speckled gray hair, how could I not recognize him? 

Graduation Day

0 Comments · Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Once upon a time there was a bar on Second Street in Cincinnati called Flanagan’s Landing. There were 10 owners, none of whom were Irish, none of whom therefore were kin to me. But they longed to have an “Irish” bar because they were trying to compete with places like Caddy’s. Who could blame them? It made good business sense.  


1 Comments · Wednesday, February 1, 2012
I had done it a thousand times. Jumped in their car, drove through the tunnel, turned right out of it and then right into the underground parking lot. I did it for those who arrived late, or those who didn’t want to deal with the fans.   

How to Quit … Everything

0 Comments · Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Now that it is mid-January and our New Year’s resolutions tilt perilously on a cliff, I offer the following wisdom and inspiration to bulwark the masses.  

Character Actor

4 Comments · Tuesday, January 3, 2012
You may not recognize my name, but you would my face. Look closely, you will see I am almost everywhere, somewhere in the background: chewing on the scenery, nailing my lines, a blank canvas with little or no context to draw upon — just a face in the crowd, an asterisk in the credits.