Evaporating Despondency
he sits naked, ensconced in priapic tension, bearing a lugubrious daze, slowly shaving his head ... revealing a dry, grey scalp hidden from the torrid noon day sun.... shedding the load of a dire, dark week...a drudge watching the numbers on the screen increase and decrease in a soporific stupor... a hollow expanse of time and space filled with morbidity, dread and self-imposed solitude. he can sink very low, reaching into the grim depths of depression's intestine, sitting there paralytic at the edge sipping the valerian solution, with no pistol on the table. as the last tuft of hair falls from his scalp bouncing off the crimson floor, there is finally a pin-prick of light that slowly enlarges, tearing through the recycled paper screen of his despondence . He rises to his feet, stretches out of his sedentary sojourn and steps outside into the glaring sunshine, leaving his saturnine coat behind. the joie de vivre gently seeps in like a cool beatific gimlet....
Cystic Explosion
He sits in a puddle of sebaceous pus.... a turgid mass of putrid, vile smelling sebum that weeps softly out of a golf ball sized cyst on his inner thigh. Black trouser starts sticking to his leg as the viscid juice oozes south, a cinnabar and yellowish double cream, coating his balls in cystic coagulation.... a smell so indescribably repugnant, acts as an emetic to retch a violent bilious chunderstorm, a lapful of the previous night's sashimi. Peeled layers of concentric necrotic tissue speckled with tiny mouths, the b-roads of the pus highway that finally flood their gates, released from their rotting subterraneous prison. Soothing balm of relief to the now deflated hard-boiled hillock entrapped within, a wrenching agony of taut flesh,tension and stress fuelled by whiskey and Jamón Ibérico, the pleasurable toxins of the fatherland. His bow-legged buggered stance resumes a normal gait as he enters the natatorium and falls into a deep sleep, lulled by the twittering birds of dawn.
Jeremy Clarkson's caustic wit
"Unfortunately, if you’re middle class you may as well take cocaine and spend Saturday night talking to yourself because there’s bugger all else to do. You can’t go into town because it’s been overrun with drunks and all the police are too busy filling in hazard assessment forms to do anything about it " .
An excerpt from Jeremy Clarkson's funniest column in the Sunday Times this year.
Tags: Jeremy Clarkson + Sunday Times
Under the Pepper Tree - In Alicunte with Slippery Sally Clitsen
The sky was a deep viridian, bucketing rain followed by a vicious hailstorm. As hailstones the size of El Diablo's balls pelted down bouncing off George's head, he screamed : Look out ! The brimstone steed was hurtling down the highway at 217 m.p.h. as they hit a transgenic fluorescent pig crossing the road. El Diablo slammed on the brakes, and the steed hit the pig dead centre at 153 m.p.h. LD and George were pitched forwards and flew through the air for 17 seconds till they landed smack in the middle of a pile of green pig manure by the road side. ........ continue reading at Under the Pepper Tree
BRUTE! Magazine
A few days ago a friend suggested that I should look at BRUTE! Magazine, which he said was popular in the mid 80's and would be right up my street. He was right !! The short stories are ripe and raw, yet tongue-in-cheek, paying homage to the pulp rags of the 30's and 40's, illustrated with powerful, strong woodcuts by Aidan Hughes. A paperback was published by Sphere Books to a sell-out first run, yet still available here.
Here is an extract from one of the short stories called ''TWAT!'' ".......You watch me ! I'll decimate ! Slaughter without quarter ! I'll spare none ! ........ I'm a raging,furious, suicidal cut throat with a lust for carnage ! For ACTION ! I've a thirst for devastation, beer and cunt ! ''
Another extract from "A Town Called Early " '' ......I knew right then that he had blown off his full load, so I sprang up to him and launched a law-flooring poke to Dobber's brains....... The crowd gasped as I clambered up onto the body and, tearing the star from his shirt, shit and pissed in his mouth.... "
I highly recommend reading all the 25 odd stories on the site. An in-depth interview of Aidan Hughes can be read at Trigger Magazine.
Tags: Brute + Aidan Hughes + Pulp Fiction
Books printed on recycled paper
In an American opinion survey done by the Opinion Research Corp. in Nov. 2005, 80% of people who had bought a book in the past six months said they would be willing to pay more for a book printed on recycled paper. The survey showed that 42% were willing to pay $1 more per book. That's a healthy sign as annual book production chews up a million tons of paper requiring a staggering 20 million trees !!Over a hundred publishers have adopted paper policies to eliminate the use of fiber from endangered forests and to maximize the use of recycled & FSC Paper. Publishers save one tree with every 90 books printed on 100% post-consumer recycled paper. If the book industry's use of recycled fiber increases from 5 to 30 percent, there will be an annual ecological benefit of saving 4.9 million trees, conserving 2 billion gallons of water, preventing the release of 524 million pounds of greenhouse gases and 388,137 pounds of hazardous pollutants, and reducing pressure on rare and threatened forests.We are buggering the planet's ecosystem on a daily basis, maybe to eventual extinction in time. One small thing you can do to marginally alleviate that is to click on the Rainforest Site. One free click a day saves 11.4 sq.ft (3.47 sq.m) of endangered rainforest which is about 4160 sq.ft or 1266.55 sq.m a year. Or eventually bite the bullet and succumb to an E - book reader ?? !!For more information on advances in eco-friendly publishing, visit these informative resource sites:Tags: Recycled paper + Rainforests + Publishing
