Big Mike: Milo And I Fight The Power Elite!

February 10th, 2010

The gloves are coming off, dear friends and loyal readers of this rag.

Benny Jay and I started sniping at each other a couple of months ago when he gleefully wrote about letting his snarling pit bull piss all over the neighbors’ lawns. Some poor old lady was kneeling on the sod in front off her house, putting covers on her rose bushes for the winter, and Benny’s beast sprinkled all over her shins.


Benny’s Dog, Daisy.

She protested, naturally, but it made no difference to Benny and his cur. He said, Don’t bother me, Grannie. I have bigger things to worry about than you and your comfort. Can you believe it? It’s all true. I provide the link to Benny’s original post about the incident but somebody, probably some PR flack, advised him to edit that anecdote out. Now the post reads as if Benny is some poor, meek schlub cowed by all the brutes of the world. Hah!

We exchanged our verbal broadsides over his dog’s reign of terror but things seemed to be subsiding. Until now.

Benny’s been buttering up some pal of his named Monroe Anderson, trying to get him to write a thing or two for The Third City. It so happens that both this Anderson chap and our very own Milo Samardzija hail from Gary, Indiana. Well, anybody who’s ever read a word from Milo’s keyboard will recognize that he must be hailed as that city’s greatest writer. Hell, he’s the best thing the entire state of Indiana has ever produced. Hoagie Carmichael? Puh-leeaze! David Letterman, Jimmy Stewart, Michael Jackson and all the rest? Pshaw! They couldn’t hold Milo’s switchblade.

Now Benny and his new BFF are trying to claim the title that is rightfully Milo’s. Here’s where I put my foot down. I’ll state it categorically now and forever: Milo Samardzija is Gary, Indiana’s Greatest Writer.


But get this: Monroe Anderson, Benny’s hero, had the gall to send me an email claiming he’s Gary’s literary titan. The nerve!

Memo to Big Mike, it began, Let’s keep this short and sweet because not only am I an important man but a busy one as well.

What the…? Does this man know who he’s talking to? I’m the Barn Boss of The Third City! Aspiring writers from all over the Midwest come calling, hat in hand, looking for the break that only I can provide. Some political writer from Chicago pitched some post ideas to me the other day. He began his email Dear Mr. Glab.

Proper Respect

The Proper Way To Approach The Barn Boss.

That’s a guy who’s got a little bit of brains. This Monroe fellow? If he hasn’t the good sense to know how to address me, how can I trust him to know anything about, say, Chicago politics or race relations or the roots of the Obama administration?

So Monroe continues. What’s this garbage about Milo being the greatest writer from Gary, Indiana?

The Loved One had to pound me on the back before I stopped gagging over that one.

A few paragraphs later, Monroe gets to the point. [T]his isn’t about Milo, it’s about me…. I am, without question, without doubt, without equal, Gary, Indiana’s greatest writer — living, dead or yet to be born.

This man is a lunatic! And his sponsor, his padrone, Benny Jay, is twice as crazy as he is.


Benny Jay’s Housecoat.

My dear, dear chum Milo Samardzija has written brilliantly about such timeless topics as making easy money, Swedish male enhancement devices, all night poker games and alcohol benders, and countless other philosophical treatises.

What has Monroe Anderson done?

Well, he’s awfully good at patting himself on the back. He closes his screed thusly:


the Muhammad Ali of Gary, Indiana, writers,

Monroe Anderson.

Man! Look, it’s a world of six billion people. There’s bound to be a crazy or two. This Monroe Anderson character makes Scott Lee Cohen seem highbrow in comparison.

Under normal circumstances, I’d simply click Move to Trash and forget Monroe’s madness. But Benny Jay seems hellbent on bringing him aboard — and at three-times Milo’s salary!

Uh uh. Nope. Nada. Fuhgeddaboutit. Not only am I nixing this hare-brained scheme, I’m contacting my attorneys, Daley, Daley, Madoff & Luca Brasi, at once. I’ll have them pore over the corporate charter of this information colossus to see how I can oust Benny Jay before the end of the week.

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