I Made A TikTok

That’s right, you guys! YouTube is hard, and I’m awful at Instagram, and I’ve been stuck at 1,666 followers on Twitter for months, but none of that matters because I’m on TIkTok now, like all of the cool people!

Here’s a TikTok where I talk about a weird dream I keep having where I am trying to save the world from nuclear antihalation as Joanna Dark in a level that my brain made up in the Perfect Dark N64 game from the 90s/2000s. (Update: The game was released back on May 2000.)

Anyways, maybe I’ll get a crap ton of followers on there one day and be like, hip.

And that’s all I’ve got. Nothing else has changed. Still working from home. Still single. Still eating way too much.

Eric Shay Howard Selfie
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The Five-Star Courthouse

Here is a very short story. I’m working on my microfiction skills. Comments and typo hunters, welcome.

The Five-Star Courthouse

Ray didn’t say no when John asked him if his dog was the one who dug the hole in the park by the bench. Ray didn’t even have a dog. Did a blue cotton suit and shoes that shined like polished tree-bark look like clothes that a dog owner would wear? When John asked him if he paid a deposit for the cat that was sitting in his apartment window, Ray didn’t say no. Ray didn’t know what cat he was talking about. Would a single guy who wears white shirts under his suit and fucks so many women ever be caught dead with a cat in his studio? When John handed him the eviction notice in the doorway, Ray wouldn’t take it. Why would a naked man standing in the doorway with no clothes to his name be living in that apartment? Ray made a fake Google account and left a one-star review that mentioned the rude pet owners who let their pets dig in the park, lost pet deposits, and the intolerance of hard-working American’s lifestyles. The police officer with the messed-up shave said to work it out in court.

John was in the office behind the courtroom when Ray arrived. John said he couldn’t prove that Ray was a cat person, but he could prove that it was Ray’s dog that dug the hole in the park. The judge told Ray he was late and asked him why he was naked in a courtroom. Did a small office with a red wooden table and a white minifridge in the corner look like a courtroom to you? On top of that, why would anyone show up to court naked? The judge thought about it and broke down and said he wasn’t really a judge. His diplomas were fakes and his references were fraudulent. John punched Ray in the face. The judge dialed 9-1-1. The police officer arrested John for assault and for making fun of his funky stubble. Ray said he could keep a secret and asked the judge if he wanted a cat or a dog. The judge said both. John left five stars on Google for the courthouse.

fiction The Five-Star Courthouse
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I (Kinda) DID participate in Small Business Saturday

I definitely did participate in Small Business Saturday this past weekend. Kind of.

It’s just that I don’t post things on my blog on Saturday, or on the weekend anymore, because I’m trying to make this writing thing my job. If i’m going to go through all the hard work of working for myself and being a writer, I’m going to make my own hours and they’re going to be scheduled around my lazy time. I haven’t talked much about my lazy time yet, but it’s a really important part of my life. So there.

But, I DID participate in small business Saturday, even if it might’ve been a little bit accidental.

I was writing some stuff, or working at the part time job, I won’t tell which anymore because I’m trying to pretend that my part time job doesn’t exist and that I make all my money from writing. Anyway, I was working, even though it was Saturday. I was only working on Saturday this time because a new issue of Likely Red Magazine is supposed to get published November 30th, and I still have to send the authors their proofs and pay them and all of that stuff. So I was making Post-It notes about that and my friend texted me. And because I work for myself now and make my own decisions, I decided to look at my phone while working.

My friend said that we should go shopping at Work the Metal for Christmas.

I said okay, what the fuck is Work the Metal?

He said it was a local boutique, designer, furniture, knickknack store.

I said okay, I guess. First we went to eat pizza and then we went to the store. I made him take a picture of me outside of the mural on the side of the building. I meant to get one of me by the front of the store or inside the store, but this was technically lazy time and I forgot so, moving on.

Eric Shay Howard standing outside of Work The Metal in the Butchertown Neighborhood in Louisville, KY. Photo by John Eric Davis.

I took these pictures of the stuff that I found interesting while I was at the store though.

I didn’t buy any of them because I’m on a short fiction writer’s salary. Someday I’ll be on a short fiction author’s salary, but even then I’ll have to be careful.



I was immediately drawn to the mugs. I forgot to take a picture of the one that said “Not An Interesting Person”, but it’s also white with black text on it, so just use your imagination.

I Don’t Work Here mug at Work the Metal in Louisville, KY.

For Fox Sake Mug at Work the Metal in Louisville, KY.

Next, I was drawn into a few more random things I found scattered throughout, but mostly the coasters. I almost bought these coasters and plates.

A funny coaster at Work the Metal in Louisville, KY.

What sort of writer would I be if I didn’t notice at least a few of the books and writer-like things?

Hot Guys Coloring Book from Work the Metal in Louisville, KY.

Journal at Work the Metal in Louisville, KY.

Baby’s First Tattoo book at Work the Metal in Louisville, KY.

Also, there were interesting socks. I probably looked through those the longest. I don’t have any funny socks.

I have vague feelings about whatever socks from Work the Metal in Louisville, KY.

Carpe the Fuck Out of this Diem socks from Work the Metal in Louisville, KY.

After the store my friend brought me home. I wrote this blog post a few hours later. I didn’t post it on Saturday, though, because I’m a writer and I have to edit things, at least a little. I’m not sorry. I’m also not saying that I want this blog post to represent my editing skills. I’m just saying that I got out of the house last week, that I went and looked at stuff, and it just happened to be Small Business Saturday.

Here’s some more stuff that I edited:

Read my newest short story that I posted on my blog, “The Brawl Outside Butterweather’s”.

Here’s a weird blog post about how I wanted to do an author interview but didn’t have any authors. If My Blog Was As Good As The Others, I’d Not Have Posted This.

Also, the poll for this Friday’s fiction story is still going, but it’ll end tonight. That means you still have a few hours left to vote. Whichever short story wins the poll will be posted Friday at 8AM EST here on my blog.

Also, share this blog post and the others with people if you like them so I can live.  (Clarification: share my stuff if you liked my stuff. I don’t really care if you like the people you share with or not.)

Also, if you’re in the Louisville area ever, you should check out Work The Metal. It’s pretty rad.

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College Student Goes Crazy Waiting For Final Grades To Post

I’m sitting here like a good graduating college student, applying for every job I can find that even remotely interests me on Indeed, waiting for my coffee water to boil. I’m doing the best I can to pretend that I’m not worried about my final grades, writing about my upcoming college graduation in all my cover letters, using the most declarative sentences possible.

Dear Interviewer,

I’m Eric Shay Howard and I’m applying for your Administrative Assistant position. I WILL graduate in May 2017 with a BA In English. I know I will. You can bet on it. It’s pretty much a for sure thing, although I’m still waiting for my grades to post. BUT I’m only worried about one class. It was a really hard class about British Literature. BRITISH LITERATURE! I know, right? But I did all the work in it and I’m thinking it’s pretty hard to fail an English class if you

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The Thing Is, I’m Super Reachable – An Essay

I’m a shy guy. I don’t pursue conversation well. Sometimes when we’re in a place and you talk to me, I might be short with you because I don’t understand that you’re trying to get my contact information. Luckily, I’m super reachable. I mean, really really super reachable.

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