Bio
When my good friend John asked me to write a bio for this page, I immediately said no. Then came the threats of bodily harm by means of several strategically placed paper cuts on my wrists and palms, so I said, “Um, okay.”
John Cardamone is a wonderful human being. He was born in Dayton, Ohio, however I was unable to find any substantive evidence or verifiable documentation to prove this, so let’s just say John was born. He comes from a large family, having five sisters, all given boys names. It was a rough childhood as they would beat him up on a regular basis and call him Emily.
John was not the brightest student in his school days. His mind would wander when the teacher was lecturing and he had a bad habit of leaving sentences unfinis
After his schooling, John held several jobs. One of his first places of employment was IKEA. He would transcribe the furniture assembly pictograms into words for the illustratively challenged. Once he was fired from a coffee shop for writing French swear words on the cups and shouting them out while imitating Inspector Clouseau.
He also worked at a bookstore. One day he met a girl, fell in love, and had dreams of settling down on a farm, having a couple of kids with her - Olivia and Sam, raising chickens and goats, spending their time writing and painting, the both of them dabbling in pottery and batik, living off the land in peace and harmony with nature. But when he gave the young lady her receipt, he never saw her again.
Mr. Cardamone suffers from wanderlust and has traversed the globe several times as a young man. The globe in question was given to him by his Uncle Denise and he still keeps it on his nightstand.
John is also innovative in nature. Recently, he invented a single-person carousel. It was a big turning point in his life.
And that brings us to the present. I would be remiss if I failed to mention that the author’s… um… interesting stories are short enough to be read quickly, and forgettable enough to be reread soon after.
dh
Bottom of Page Stuff:
Greetings from Postcard Inkblot!
Welcome to the stuff at the bottom of the page.
Postcard Inkblot is John Cardamone in human form, when the outdoor temperature is above 42°F and the coffee pot is in good working order.
All writings that you find here are 100% story, no filler. Each story is lovingly hand-crafted using only the finest artisan words, utilizing a semi-operable IBM Selectric, in a 17th-century woodshed situated near the banks of the Patuxent River (between the Dairy Queen and the nail salon.)
Disclaimer:
Reading these stories in no way constitutes an agreement between you and the author stipulating that he will wash and wax your car (unless there are apple fritters involved.)
If you happen to read all the stories in order you will NOT win a SpongeBob SquarePants plushie.
Directions:
Please proceed to the Table of Contents page and select a story.
Each story title comes with a short descriptor, making it easier for you to choose the right story for you, tailored specifically to your incredibly selfish needs when it comes to reading fiction.
Click the link to the story you feel compelled to read or one at random.
Read the story from left to right, top to bottom, only pausing if the Amazon driver arrives with your electric backscratcher. Or nuclear war.
If you feel nauseous, anxious, light headed, or are suddenly able to communicate with spiders, discontinue reading. Don’t worry, these symptoms are normal and will mostly go away in a few years.
You may experience symptoms of jet lag when reading on a plane or are within fifty miles of an international airport.
When a story is completed, wipe that silly smile off of your face, refresh your Earl Grey, grab some more Maria cookies, and...
Repeat.
Thank you for reading Postcard Inkblot and don't forget to wash your hands and turn off the lights when you're done.
Good luck,
jc
