The moment he entered the bar, I knew that Mister J. wasn't your usual guest. Maybe it was the way his eyes darted around, taking the measure of everything he saw, or that half smile as he twirled ...  [+]

Back in my bleak days, when I used to wait tables at LongHorn Steakhouse, a scrounger friend of mine called me about an opportunity. Those were the days of busting my hump for meager tips from ...  [+]

He had a diploma. He had ideas. He had time on his hands. He started a blog.

He had the knack. He followed the conversations. He enjoyed the process. He wrote strong entries with weak headlines ...  [+]