This book is not a book. It is a spit in the face.
Fucked up stories and poetry from the gutter of the Internet!
Saturday, September 5, 2020
Thursday, August 6, 2020
"Death Penalty for a Ghost in China" was written by Kim Cancer, not Morad Smadi. FUCK YOU, MORAD!
"Death Penalty for a Ghost in China" was written by Kim Cancer, not Morad Smadi. Morad is a thief and a weasel, selling a product that was intended to be FREE. FUCK YOU, MORAD!
ADJUNCT CRASH COURSE PODCAST! STARCHBLOOD!
Season One has drawn to a close. Thanks to everyone who has listened!
Click below to listen to ALL episodes from Season One, as well as Chapter 1 from Frankie Metro's novel, "STARCHBLOOD"
RESPECT!
Tuesday, July 7, 2020
"The Karen and Axl Rose" by Kim Cancer
A short story about aging, rock n' roll, Axl Rose, Bangkok, and the pursuit of happiness...
CLICK HERE TO DOWNLOAD THE PDF!
Saturday, June 20, 2020
Sunday, June 14, 2020
METH LAB TEN YEAR ANNIVERSARY! The return of the Chemist...
Excerpt from Starchblood: A Novel
NYE, 1999.
Lisa was partying with her co-workers at T.G.I. Friday’s when she first met Colin, and although there’d been some flirtation, they’d never hooked up before that night. Two weeks later they moved in together. His extended family approved well enough, but often made strange observations about Lisa like:
“You’re smart, cute, in college… Why are you with Colin??”
She saw something behind the bloodshot tea shades of his eyes, an unvarnished distance that 6 months later paved way to a rollback while he pissed the bed in his sleep, leaving her mortified and unsure about the future. She did her best to coax him into attending AA meetings, abstained from drinking during short stints, and took her turns at the podium or head of the circle to discuss triggers.
But the parties at work were still too much of a draw for Colin. It was close to the Superbowl and St. Louis was the favorite in the point spread against Tennessee by -14. Friday’s had organized a pre-gamer that Saturday, because the crew would be light & generally knew how to keep secrets. Colin thought this an opportune time to try out a batch of GHB he’d bought from his brother, Eric, a pharmaceutical rep working in Rio Rancho.
“Don’t overdo it man. Seriously. Just a shot will do you.” Eric poured a capful into his Corona. “It’s so strong, I’ve actually been using it to cut back on my drinking. You metabolize booze so fast, you’ll be good to drive home in just a few hours.”
“I’m not an asshole. I can handle my shit.” Colin replied, reaching for another cap.
Eric jerked the bottle out of his hands. “If you’re just planning on killing yourself tonight, it’s not going to be on me.”
Colin promised to keep it light on the drinks that night…
It took 3 ambulances to load up the night-shift as they teetered on the edge of drug induced comas. The general manager was admitted to Presbyterian’s ICU and fired, later settling in life as the food/bev. Manager for a golf course in Santa Fe[1].
When he was finally canned for stealing and distributing $5 coupons and place-mats, Colin tried a stint as a delivery driver for Pudge Bros. Pizza. Lisa knew the anxiety of a new job would be a hindrance on his performance and would make him breakfast before his afternoon shifts began, before leaving for her new job as an educational assistant at Albuquerque Public Schools. The transition period took some adjustments and one night, after an especially hard week, she came home to the faint odor of rum and burrito vomit, seemingly emanating from somewhere on the front porch.
She heard virtually simulated car chases and drunken laughter inside the house and when she opened the door, Colin was sprawled out on the futon with bits of crusted black beans, potatoes, and cheese stuck to his shirt. Ray, his much older brother, had called to inform him that their grandmother had died. Colin was too distraught over the news to go to work, and Trey had been by to reminisce about the old woman’s legacy.
“Bullshit!” Lisa smacked him. “Get the fuck out of my house! Now!”
“Fuck you!” Colin stammered. “You think you’re so perfect? You’re not. Just another fuck up li-“
Lisa shoved him to the ground and continued to kick him in the stomach until a trickle of blood formed at his mouth. After he was forcibly removed from the situation by the police, days later he called from a few blocks away.
“Just listen, okay? I know you don’t want to see me, but I got you a car. Problem is-“
“Here we go.”
“… problem is, I got pulled over on the way to your house.”
The arresting officer grabbed the phone. “Is this, Lisa?”
“… yes.”
“Mrs. Dushane, we’re arresting your husband and impounding the car, unless you can pick it up.”
“He’s not my husband.”
“Pardon me?”
“I’m not Mrs. Dushane. And I don’t own a car.”
[1] Colin didn’t lose his job, or go to prison, and was later promoted from server to bartender. If you had a decent rapport with him and worked the same shifts, he’d serve you liquor in kid’s size cups.
Tuesday, May 26, 2020
Monday, May 18, 2020
Adjunct Crash Course PODCAST!! LIVE NOW!
Join hosts NEWAMBA FLAMINGO, FKAFM, and Glenn Davis for a new take on human conditioning with topics ranging from sex, drugs, sports, film, serialized radio novels and sociology/psychology. #louisck #axlrose #kingchip #jerrystiller #isolation #airingofgrievances #aew #jakethesnakeroberts #bereal
LICK, CLICK and DOWNLOAD HERE
Thursday, April 23, 2020
Friday, February 21, 2020
"Parents got pissed on in Times Square" by Cuntumelious
“They were in Times Square, for New Year’s Eve.”
“Never understood that, celebrating New Year’s with all those strangers, standing in the cold, in a place so fucking crowded.”
“And how did it happen?”
“I don’t know… He just said his parents got pissed on by somebody.”
“I assume it was a man.”
“You never know.”
“It was so clotted with people that the pisser probably couldn’t reach a bathroom, was stupid drunk, I’d guess.”
“It was New Year’s Eve…”
“I wonder how it went down. Did the guy whip it out and start shooting, like a deranged killer, wantonly spraying down everyone?”
“And packed in like sardines, there’d be nowhere to escape. You’d have to simply stand there and take it.”
“Nowhere to run. Some freak, unzips his fly, cock flailing in the night, pissing wildly, pissing all over you...”
“The pissing guy screaming like Rambo, all: “RAAAAAAHHH!!!”
“Nah, no way. I think it was that the guy couldn’t hold it, went in his pants and the parents were wetted by it.”
“Can’t imagine a person breaking out his dick, pointing and pissing at some random people.”
“I can. People do worse. Of all the tragedies that could befall you, it is low down on the list.”
“Don’t be too hasty to judge. Perhaps he was actually a good Samaritan. Like he scanned around, spared the others, spared the children.”
“Pissing on a child, that must be a sex offense. Chris Hanson shit…”
“Chris Hansen.”
“Hansen?”
“Hansen.”
“Marilyn Manson.”
“Isn’t Marilyn Manson dead?”
“No, Marilyn Manson is alive and pissing on people in Times Square.”
“Marilyn Manson is pissing on children.”
“It has to be a sex offense, pissing on children...”
“Even by accident? Say you’re in a public bathroom, pissing in a urinal, and a crazy kid comes running in, accidentally runs into your stream, and you blast his snotty little face with your golden bladder juice. Fucking next thing you know, you’re in jail, getting shanked, getting your cheeks busted by a tatted-up Aryan Brotherhood gang member. Fuck…”
“I’m using the stall from now on...”
“Or did the piss originate from above? A balcony shooter. A roof shooter.”
“The Oswald of Piss…”
“A second shooter theory. One from nearby and one from above.”
“Dude’s parents had enemies…”
“Magic piss. Ricocheting.”
“A rooftop pisser, a sniper. Like someone at a crowded party, couldn’t make it to the bathroom, relieved himself off a roof. Did it innocently enough. Thought he’d hit a dumpster or some shit, accidentally sprayed dude’s parents.”
“You really think it was incidental?”
“Accidental. It was an accident. I want to believe that. It helps me maintain faith in humanity.”
“What’d they do afterwards?”
“Who? The pisser?”
“No, the parents…”
“After what?”
“After they got pissed on...”
“Not sure. It’s an awkward conversation to have…”
“Piss must have frozen on them.”
“Icicles of piss, crinkling off them…”
“I’d punch a motherfucker in the dick if he pissed on me.”
“But what if it was Shaq? Bet he’d piss like a fire hose. Has special toilets installed in his house.”
“I’d save the piss, the Shaq Piss. Sell it on eBay.”
“Still don’t understand. How does anyone get pissed on in Times Square?”
“Why does anyone go there for New Year’s Eve?”
“Dude’s parents probably won’t go back for New Year’s again.”
“And if they do, they’d deserve to be pissed on…”
Monday, February 17, 2020
Wednesday, January 29, 2020
Man on the loose, snatching and launching cellphones into street traffic
"Green Bandit" on the loose, snatching and launching cellphones into street traffic
By Cuntumelious, for Meth Lab News
02:20 ET, 01/30/2020
FRED CITY, FUCKSTATE: There have been numerous reports of a tiny man, around 5’0 tall and of sleight frame, wearing a neon green spandex jumpsuit, running through city streets and snatching cellphones away from those walking while texting.
After grabbing the phones, the man stops and hurls the devices into traffic, and then laughs hysterically while dashing off.
Panicked pedestrians, in a quandary, are often unsure of whether to go after the man or chase after their phones. Most have cursed, yelled at the man and then pursued their phone.
The man is described as having a cannon of an arm, able to throw the phones upwards of perhaps 70 to 80 yards, usually in a discus motion. He is also lightning quick, running nearly as fast as a cheetah.
Furthermore, the “Green Phone Bandit,” as he has been dubbed, is fleet on his feet, utilizing a variety of stiff-arms, juke moves, and hurling techniques to evade capture.
In addition, witnesses report his spandex suit to be covered in a greasy substance, rendering it difficult for passersby, good Samaritans to apprehend him.
One security guard attempting to tackle him stumbled, slipped and headbutted a parking meter. The parking meter was unharmed.
The bandit has been apparently targeting Apple Stores and Starbucks. The majority of his attacks have taken place within the vicinity of such establishments.
Witnesses report that the phone snatcher is a ginger, wears Reebok Pumps and has the word “think” in multiple languages scrawled in black ink all over his tight-fitting clothes.
One witness reported the Green Bandit had emerged from a manhole. Several witnesses reported him kicking open the trunks of parked cars, bursting out screaming gibberish. All of the cars involved had Theranos stickers on their passenger side windows.
It’s not known at this time if the phone smasher has any association with the company.
FRED City Police are investigating but don’t seem to care. If you have any information about the Green Bandit, or if you are the Green Bandit, you can basically just go fuck yourself.
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