Well, if you're attractive and female, let me show
you around, first all the bars, then back to my
apartment ("I swear! Jimmy Buffett was hanging
out here when I left ..."). As for you guys, you're
on your own.

Okay, let's start again. This time I'll try to do
this with a minimum of sarcasm, lechery, and
words. Roadkill Weekly, as it was then called
(until I figured out that I was far too lazy and
far too much of a drunk to write anything on
a weekly basis), started as an E-mail subscription
column way back in September of 1995. Among
my other fiction and journalistic work (if you
can call this work), I used to contribute a humor
column to an E-zine called Cyberconch, which
was kind of a news and other information
zine about Cayo Hueso (unfortunately, long
since out of business). After a while, it occurred
to me that folks might not only enjoy getting
news, but actual stories from down here in
my hometown of Key West, and that's how this
whole lunacy began.

Most of the time, the stories in Roadkill take
place down here in the Keys, but as I travel
a lot, both as a journalist and a musician, Roadkill
occasionally wanders to a whole lot of different
destinations, wherever I think there's a story worth
telling.

The column's free every month (or thereabouts),
but I greatly, greatly appreciate it, if you like
what I do, if you order something from the site,
like a book, or one of my CDs (it's faster and
easier to order these directly from Amazon.com),
or even a cheap ol' T-shirt. That's the only way I
have of supporting this lunatic endeavor, and, like
most Key West locals, I'm poor as shit and in debt
up to my neck, so any order of any size does help.

Oh, and about the "Roadkill" title; I imagine you've
gathered by now that this feature has nothing to do
with sicko loons who like to run over small animals
with their cars, although I do mention the President
and his cabinet from time to time. Actually, the
title comes from my nickname in Key West. Seems
every time I'd blow in off the road after two months
of traveling, I had a habit of telling friends, "I feel
like damn roadkill." After a while, I just started to be
called "Roadkill Bill" down here.

Well, that's about it by way of explanation. If
you Click Here we'll send you an E-mail each time
a new column gets posted (don't worry; that's
free). Just wait for the form to come up and
type "Subscribe" in the subject box then Send.

And, you see, you can trust us tropical drunks
(especially you girls); Click Here to return back
to the first page of the website.

All The Best,

Bill Jabanoski