Richard Plinke takes the stage for an unfiltered reading from his book How to Sell the Plague. Expect equal parts satire, straight talk, and storytelling — the kind of commentary that makes you laugh while wondering if you should be offended.
A cheeky jab at pay-to-play writing contests, followed by a 1,000-word midway caper: Hope, Hopo, amnesia, and a carnival twist. Yes—Hope springs eternal.
Plinke riffs on Wicked, prequels, and pop culture: dazzled by spectacle, skeptical of the premise, and wickedly amused from start to “To Be Continued.”
Leaf-covered rocks, steep switchbacks, Allentown views, and one very good dog. A funny ode to Pennsylvania’s rocky hills—and why “rock and roll” is here to stay.
Post-surgery update: hardware out, spirits up. At LLS Light the Night with Luna, I’m grateful—and not fond of the “survivor” label. Thanks for the love and prayers.
Convalescing after surgery, I tried “Barbie” and found only brain-twisting confusion—Allan’s whiplash moments, one great Mirren line, and a lot of pink noise.
We don’t seize the day—we film it. From safety theater to the Big Lie, Rich Plinke argues we’ve traded participation for performance and shows how to take life back.
Jaw surgery, insurance tap-dancing, and why five dental implants might cost fifteen grand. A darkly funny plea from Rich Plinke to “hook a brother up.”
Helplessly Hoping Her Harlequin Hovers Nearby