About

All I wanted was a job. I answered an ad on craigslist that was looking for a writer. I had wrtier skills, since well, I’m a writer  with a talent for making things that aren’t really all that cool…well, cool.

I started out by writing about bands. And, like with anything, when you start our writing about bands you out start at the bottom writing about bands that aren’t yet…cool. So it was my job to make those bands sound like they were cool…even if they weren’t. But, what’s that got to do with being Jack Tripper, you ask?

Anyhow, I applied for the writing gig and never heard back. A few months later…someone from the magazine asked if I was still interested. Of course I was,  so I replied and well then…never heard back.

I was furious…why dangle a carrot in my face, ya know? I had to do something, I thought, so I wrote the editor a message. A really mean and nasty one. But, this time I did hear back…immediately. And, he offered me a job.

Little did I know the magazine was a gay men’s magazine in SF…”not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

Queer eye was all super cool and popular at that time and it seemed like everything that was gay was golden, or I mean black…or I mean…gay was the new black.

It wasn’t hard writing for a gay men’s magazine about food, what was hard…was convincing everyone I’d encounter that I wasn’t gay…”not that there’s anything wrong with that”, either.

Here’s my story…