Hello gang. Welcome back to another edition of Life, Love and Other Mysteries with master storyteller and calligraphist Zach Pugh. Fans of the column may notice there aren’t any questions listed below. That’s because today I’d like to tell a story. A story about the day I met my third wife. I know many of you come here for answers to life’s greatest questions, but I think this story has lessons worth a thousand questions.

It was 2006. El Paso, Texas. Great man and brilliant artist George W. Bush was still in office. Jay-Z had just dropped Kingdom Come. My second wife, Trisha, had left me a few years before. But I had dismounted well. I was riding high off the wild success (Tens of hundreds of copies!) of my comedic novel Cat’s Out of the Bag, I Hate You Trisha! I was living a life of excess. I had a duplex I shared with two women who were both madly in love with me. It was like a Three’s Company porno. Every day was just a fucking blur of illicit substances and illegal positions. These women, I tell ya. I’d have married both of them if it was legal and I could afford another divorce. We’d have six kids total, three from each of them. And they’d become great friends with a couple of my already seven other children. It would’ve been a dream…

Anyway, I was also pretty deep into the drug cartel business down there. A man gets bored sitting around and having sex with beautiful women all day. I needed a hobby, but also danger. The cartel provided both. We had carnivals (“Cartelivals” we would call them!) on the border, and none of the police would do anything because they were so terrified of my buddies up from Juarez. Life was good. That was until…

Now, I’m a smart businessman. I knew that an excess of quantity allowed for a small percentage of lost product to go unnoticed. So, every time the ladies and I would make a pickup, we’d unload a little bit of it for ourselves. A man’s gotta eat! Then we’d go home and do the drugs and have more wild sexual experiences. I mean, these women were something else. I could go on and on…

Eventually, it caught up with us. The cartel boss showed up at our house and shot it up. Neither of my lovers made it, and I vowed revenge. I loaded up with a crew I had developed. (Turned out I was becoming quite the “Kingpin” the group would say.) We drove down to Juarez and, in a blood bath, took out all 47 men at the complex while only losing 45 of our 46. I rushed inside to the office of the head of the cartel. He wasn’t expecting me. (He had been listening to his headphones the entire time.) I put my knife to his throat, and as I was about to step into a darkness I could never escape, I looked at the bookshelf behind him and noticed something…

There on the shelf, right at my eye level, was a copy of my book: Cat’s Out of the Bag, I Hate You Trisha! I looked at him and said,

“You read that book?”

“Yes. It is the funniest book I ever read. Zach Pugh is a great writer. Much better man than you,” he growled at me.

Now you have to understand, I had been living under a fake alias this entire time. So you can imagine the surprise he was in for when he found out who I actually was. We laughed, we hugged, and we drank a gallon of something. He agreed to drop the whole thing, with the one condition that I move out of Texas…

I moved to Kalamazoo, Michigan and started teaching again. I forget when it was, but I met Sheila at some point while I was there. She was nice enough so we got married.

That day was a whirlwind, but I look back on it and smile. I know that experiences like that are the only ways to truly learn about Life, Love & Other Mysteries.


Illustration by Paige Weldon

Illustration by Paige Weldon

The Higgs Weldon is a humor website with funny articles, cartoons, and one liners. It was started by the Los Angeles stand-up comedy community, but takes submissions from everybody. Please read and enjoy our jokes!


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