From the introduction to Barstool Poetry (The Early Years: 1992-2000).
The year was 1992. My roommate Jon Congdon and I — we shared a condo in Redondo — nursed our cheap beers at the S.F. Saloon, our favorite Westside hang, when the idea hit. Too lazy and timid to approach any of the pretty California girls hovering in our midst, I decided to pass the time by jotting down a ridiculous, long-forgotten title on a nearby cocktail napkin.
“Write a poem to fit that title,” I challenged Jon, sliding the napkin and pen under his nose.
Jon knew a good idea when he heard one and he soon handed me an equally ridiculous title to dive into. Before long we were hunched over our napkins, hyper-focused, scribbling furiously — if not lost in thought, awaiting the arrival of The Muse. And when the time finally came to share our work, Jon and I had each other in stitches…or shaking our heads in disgust…or nodding with pained recognition.
Just like that, we were fired up for more titles, more poems, more laughs…