I was on this ladder. I don’t even want to tell this story.Read More
Sometimes I rip the sadness out of my body and I toss it into the Meat Bucket over the kitchen sink and it stays in there hollering and denting up the walls, before it evaporates and floats out the window towards whatever hell is.Read More
I loved Portland and its people because they seemed irritated with their city and were poised to either move away, or toss their hunk of overripe fruit in the compost garbage can found on every green, mossy, deep-puddled street corner.Read More
BY STEPHEN LANGLOIS & BUD SMITH
WANTED: Hell Hunter: slayer of demons, killer of psycho clowns, fearless destroyer of creatures born from utter blackness/bleakness of bottomless pit nightmares
BY BUD SMITH
At times WORK struck me as the kind of fluff that one often encounters on the water damaged, and oft-wobbly side table of a laundromat.