Uncle Russ

This is Uncle Russ.


Uncle Russ hates jacks, and has a tattoo to prove it.
And if you don’t like it, you can kiss his ass.

Uncle Russ can’t see fish. Ever.
He’s got a bad hip, and a bad arm, and reels righty.

He’ll offer you some chew.
And if you don’t like it, that’s all right by him.

Once, Uncle Russ took a jumping sturgeon to the chest like a cannonball. 

The sturgeon cried.


From the editor’s desk – 8.01.15

People keep saying to me that GB Mag is “improving.”

And it is.

But this is a backhanded compliment.

Ya know what else I hear a lot?

“John, your kids are good looking.”

Which is fine, until they add emphasis to their compliment…

And say something like…

“They’re surprisingly good looking.”


(I guess I understand the surprise.)

But one friend added that they were “shockingly good looking.”


Is that a nice thing to say, that a trait of my offspring – good looks – is shocking?

What does that say about me?

I am not so good looking anymore, although in my 20s, I was a handsome stud.

Here I am, last week, looking my best for a job interview…

(I desperately wanted the job, so this is the absolute best that I am capable of looking these days.)


I texted the pic to JK and Max, two close friends, and Jon was reminded of a comic book villain…

Of Spiderman fame…



So nowadays, when I try to look good, at best I look like the Spiderman villain, Kingpin.

Many of my new friends don’t remember or know of my good looking days, which are long over.

So that explains their surprise at my kids’ good looks.

But expressing shock?

That’s just ignorant of my handsome days past.

(I will be posting shirtless pics of me in my 20s to the next issue…)

There are times when surprise – and even shock – is appropriate to express.

In a few years my kids will be in school, doing math and reading books.

I expect to hear how “shocked” people are, that Joseph and Stephen can add and subtract.

And stay in their seats…

Lord knows, I couldn’t stay in my fucking seat!

(So I’ll be a little shocked at that too…)

So back to GB Mag.

Just a few short months ago, I was writing like 4 articles per issue, of the 6 or 7 I typically publish.

Those, apparently, were dark days for GB Mag.

But GB Mag is improving.

So sayeth the readers.

And it’s true: the same style of writing, over and over, gets boring.

The magazine is improving because it is less and less about me.