Paranormal Ghost Adventure Activity Hunters T-Shirt!!

Disembodied Female VoiceDISEMBODIED T-SHIRTS

GHOST ADVENTURES is a staple in our tv watching. Probably yours too, right? Well, now you can prove to the world just who is behind all those Electronic Voice Phenomenons captured in the white noise. Zak and Aaron would look totally buff in this, you know it. Plus if they ran through the front yard sprinkler? You would swoon you naughty, naughty thing, you.

LOVE BUNNI PRESS TEE SHIRT SHOP

SAN FRANCISCO ZINEFEST IS IN THE BAG!!

I just got done tabling at the SF ZINEFEST 2010! It was a lot of fun for a lot of different reasons - for instance getting to sit next to and getting to know JOHN MARR from "Murder Can Be Fun" fame. But there was, also, the 37 dollars that I made selling zines. For those keeping track that is a net loss of 216 dollars. All in all, I would say a samshing success for L.B.P.!

LOVE BUNNI WEST COAST will have a complete rundown tomorrow. So make sure to check it out.

2010 THE YEAR OF THE HICCUP PIG or is it COW?

LOVE BUNNI PRESS IS IN THE PROCESS OF MOVING TO SAN FRANCISCO.

ALL ZINE ORDERS ARE HORRIBLY DELAYED AND ALL ZINE PRODUCTION HAS BEEN SUSPENDED UNTIL I AM IN THE CITY WHICH SHOULD BE SOMETIME THIS YEAR.

I am blogging the slow motion move to the west coast at Go West Love Bunni, Go West! and keeping up with my movie reviews at R.JXP's Reposted Movie Reviews and I have been writing a column called "PRETENTIOUS MACHO THEATER" for IS > THAN. I have also joined the international writing group Year Zero Writers which features the new book, babylon, by our friend Daisy Anne!

03.27.2008 Some guy who used to threaten me is going to be played by Jamie Foxx

the conductor Back in the 1990s a man displaying schizophrenic behavior would come into the library where I worked. He would come in every day and stay for hours. He was usually homeless and off his meds. For even this suburban library, not a rare customer, but a few things set him apart from the rest of the lot.

For one, he was always dressed in a large military green flack jacket. On the back of the jacket, in black magic marker like a kid junks up a high school notebook, he had written Yo Yo Ma and Emmanuel Ax. He carried with him an assortment of trash and bags and tash bags with trash in them, all of which burdened him but did not slow him down as he paced up and down the street waiting for a particular bus.

Another was, once he was finished lumbering around the library -- sniffing here, spraying air freshener there -- he spent most of his time up on the second floor listening to classical music, at the quiet study listening station. He would stand with the old 70s style puffy ear phones on, with his plastic bag boots and hodge-podge of clothing, furiously conducting or pantomiming the violin. On account of this behavior, the library staff nicknamed him “The Conductor.”

For some reason, he really hated me and every time he saw me would threaten to "stab me." Not a unusual reaction to me, actually. Anyway, one day as I walked past the nest of books and cd cases he had built around himself, he muttered his usual threat, only this time another customer, standing at the dictionaries, heard these violent promises. Thinking that The Conductor had made this threat against him, the other customer asked me to call the police. Which I did.

When the police arrived the threatened customer made a statement, then the police approached The Conductor. To his credit, he explained, with great alacrity, to the police that the threat was not meant for the complainant, but for me. Regardless for whom the threat was meant, The Conductor was escorted from the library and was trespassed from the building. For a few years, we would still see him wandering up or down along the bus line, but he never did return to the library.

He somehow made his way to Skid Row in Los Angeles, where a writer for the LA Times wrote a series of articles about him.

NPR did a story on him.

The LA Times articles have been turned into a book, THE SOLOIST, to be published in a few weeks.

The book is being made into a movie. I highly doubt they will include much, if any, of those years of The Conductor's life spent at the library where I worked. But, it would be wonderful if they filmed the scene where he is booted from the library, and I am played as some fey hands-quivering-at-the-face screeching-bed-wetting guybarian who flings himself across the library in a trembling panic to dial for the police.

It would be just another life's goal accidentally ticked off the list.

12.23.2008 Satan Claws Reach Out For YOU.

magnesium sisters in merry merry Happy Xmass from the Magnesium Sisters. Once again touching the very heart of the holiday spirit with a message of hope, understanding, and love.

I am going to go listen to some Venom or some other snow drifted Black Metal dedicated to Lucifer. Really. Why wouldn't I?

11.21.2008 I am a strange man who can't be taken seriously.

comedevil I have started a (hopefully) bi-monthly column over at Paul m. Davis' Is Greater Than. I already got at least one fact wrong, so, I figure I am off to a great start and am at least doing a bit better than Fox News.

Elizabeth J.W.M. has a couple new photo zines out, Dresses in the Garden at Midnight that look pretty awesome. I have to save up some laundry money and get them.

Ambiguous feedback is more stressful than unambiguous negative feedback. At least for the neurotics. So remember that.

06.21.2008 Science can not be based on crime, can it?

guys i would totally date New zine for all of you! Mashanda, an artist I met a while back after commissioning a bunny ear drawing from her, has created a comix called GUYS I WOULD TOTALLY DATE. Everyone who has seen it has been really impressed, but also a bit scared since they find a few of the guys creepily familiar. Boyz R DUM.

Next on the agenda is this cool fact - Kent Smith, who could nurse an Arabica coffee like no one else, and Derek Hess, who used to man a mean door during the heyday of the Euclid Tavern, have come together to produce a book. Its called Please God Save Us and it looks amazing. If you pre-order, you can get a limited edition Hess print too. I would suggest buying it.

Mindy Fisher has 27 paintings up at the Green Eye Lounge in Chicago. She reports - "I'm not sure when they will be taken down, but I am pretty sure they will be up through June. On the 28th (next Wed) I'll be there from 7pm-9pm if any of you would like to come by and say hi or buy art. I'm going to be giving out buttons, there might be food too."

Here are some photos of her show: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12. Awesome, huh?

06.09.2008 You, too, can feel the joy and happiness of hating.

I have been listening to a lot of CITIZEN'S ARREST again. Man. You should too.

But then I am almost always also listening to THE FALL. If you go to the Punk Planet Message Boards, you can watch almost the entire 19 July 1985 W.O.M.A.D. Festival set. Its like being there if you had really crappy tv eyes.

LBP helped pay for the publication of Elizabeth J.M.W.'s awesome 398 # 10. Sample Press had THIS to say about it on their blog! I have loved Elizabeth's writing for a very long time. Man. You should too.

04.30.2008 Marijuana is the flame, Heroin is the fuse, and LSD the bomb!

Is it true that the janitor at YOUR grade school was a supposed Acid Victim, like the one who trundled around mine? Wearing his drab green army surplus-looking school-district issued onesie, while pushing those big gray plastic garbage cans through the halls, occasionally muttering about kids or drool?

"He did too many drugs after viet nam and now he is sorta stupid, leave him alone," some know-it-all girl would scold with an empathy and compassion lost on the crowd of gossipy boys.

Then some bully kid would hear from an older brother or neighbor relation that Acid Victims can flashback at any time. A rumor stated as fact, probably based on the fact that they had to sit through that Go Ask Alice movie with Matlock or saw the Dragnet episode with Blue Boy. Since the intellectual nourishment that sustained these gossip mongers, the most, came from the clickity clack of a classroom film projector, they actually learned something about hard drugs, or something.

So that same bully kid would try and incite a grand mal acid flashback in the creepy janitor dude, even though we would not have recognized a drug-induced coughing fit, let alone an acid trip. But it didn't matter because this other kid's older brother knew a kid who saw the janitor totally have a flashback and, shut up he did!, whatever, don't believe me! But I was going tell you what that kid said it looked like when he saw the janitor freaking out.

Fuck, grade school sucked.


04.13.2008 Harvey Pekar: [looking at himself in the mirror] Well, there's a reliable disappointment.

american splendor: another day Someone told me, recently, that they thought I was featured in an American Splendor story. I guess they mean “Morning Route” which is in the collection Another Day. I am not sure, beyond the fact that the librarian Harvey speaks to is named John, it is supposed to be me. The library where I work does not look anything like the one in the comic, nor am I that svelte and well-kept.

But, there is also a good chance. Seeing as there have been many deadlines met because I was able to photocopy Harvey’s tiny comic scripts into readable 11" x 14" sheets. I sometimes claim that without me American Splendor : Season 2 would never have reached comic shops everywhere. Though, we all know that is bunko. Still...

I will never forget the afternoon when Harvey was convinced that I had misplaced two sheets of scripts. As he folded and stuffed and shuffled the piles of pages in front of him, I suggested that he probably just sealed them up in with the photocopies he was shipping to Vertigo. At first, he simply dismissed my suggestion with a brutish wave of his paw and disapproving squawk. But as the photocopies and originals fell to the floor for the third time, he entertained my suggestion as a possibility.

I have seen many ill-suited endeavors undertaken in inebriated states that resulted in messy catastrophe, but nothing has rivaled the sight of an agitated and sweating Harvey Pekar attempt to open an envelope. Discontent with just sliding a stubby finger under the flap and ripping upward, in fear of tearing those precious photocopies I just made for him, he tried to peel the edge of the glue seal back, as if trying to remove a price tag from a picture frame.

This ended in a tear across the front of envelope where the address was scrawled. Also, the sealing flap of the envelope had been transformed into a small pile of errant confetti and a ridge of dangling triangular shapes that looked like an aged monster’s broken fangs. The originals were in the envelope, after all. An envelope was able to reseal with the delicate use of glue stick and a lot of tape. For, you see, Mr. Pekar, could not afford to lose the two first class postage stamps adhered to the front of that decimated envelope. Not with postage rates always going higher and higer.

So maybe, he did put mention of me in his comic book.

Here are the pages under discussion.

04.03.2008 Tomorrow we will have a demonstration of the freezer cannon. To be precise about it, it freezes everything it hits.

magnesium sisters in wiggly teeth New Magnesium Sisters comix is done. I got a few others bumping around that I will get around to posting one of these days. If I were not such a blind dry drunk I would churn out a comic a week. But as things stand, I am un-medicated. Which means I fail at life.

Some nights, years ago now, I used to come home drunk and try to play To Bring You My Love. I’d sit on the arm of the orange love seat and pluck at metal string. That love seat simply disintegrated into fabric streamers and a puff of orange dust as we, finally, pushed it out of the apartment. I think some passing Russians snatched it up. Ex-KGB, probably. “We make many DNAs sample from dis,” I imagine them saying as the fatter one flung it upon the back of the skinnier one. Slowly making their way back toward Musician’s Towers, humming national anthems all the way.

02.20.08 They did some sciences...

science seduction FINDINGS: Nematode eggs cause fruit mimicry in Ants which is almost as crazy as keeping aphids chemically retarded in order to eat them.

There is scant evidence that the 16 inch, 10 pound ancient frog, Beelzebufo, devoured dinosaur hatchlings. Regardless, the find lends hope to the imminent discovery of The Mongolian Death Worm.

Sarah A. Gordon's book "Make It Yourself": Home Sewing, Gender, and Culture, 1890–1930 is an intriguing look back at those old skool, crafty DIYers.

Speaking of crafty-nesses, Noelle has put up some outstanding artwork on Projekt30 and is selling more decorations over at Outlier Art on Etsy. Tell her, I sent ya.

02.15.08 Finally, as in never.

The Dead Beat Daisy Anne's first novel THE DEAD BEAT can be yours for a mere $12.47. Its quite good, so I suggest that you puchase one, or at least download it for free. Just make sure you tell her all about what you think of it, otherwise, you are nothing but a mooch!

Where would I be if I didn't tell you to listen to THE FALL's Squid Lord. Speaking of The Fall, recently Serpent's Tail published Perverted By Language: Fiction Inspired by The Fall. Its an interesting idea, as The Fall have a distinct and changeable mood, a repetition of changing sameness, the slow drawl of a grunting screech, that lends itself the short story form. These stories, uneven and provocative, occasionally hit the target. Some finely crafted, others more slop across the floor. Still, I enjoyed it totally.

11.03.07 Welcome to the ScumFuck Failure Club.

Night Nurses Zine Remember Jason Gonzales? He wrote a couple stories in BLISTER PACKS. Like the one about doing whippits? Remember that one? No? Really? Did you even read BLISTER PACKS?!!

Well, anyway, he has emptied his massive sketch book of the coloring book pages filled with the scratch of an itchy rehab nightmares. Fixated on Jesus and short skirts, Mr. Gonzales has managed to produce a comic zine both lame and hip. In short this is the future, CRIPPLED ART for THE MASSES.

In short, NIGHT NURSES is a new zine that I would really, really love you to have. Really. I'll even send you one in the mail, if you want.

I think there should be some new projects coming out soonish. More zines, I would betcha. Though, who knows. Anyone want to write for the website? Reviews, interviews, rants? Get in touch with me, maybe we can work something out. Or maybe not.

08.13.07 Your friend is right, compañero. When you're about to die, don't ask so many questions.

7 Generals of Deep River Qojak Zine Its been a long while since this site has seen any sort of action. But then it does, pretty much live in Cleveland, so that explains the prolonged "dry spell." Its not only that I am incredibly lazy, but I am forgetful and easily agitated by fops and rubes, which is not an excuse as much as an explanation?

In the meantime, Qojak has finally kicked out the zines! He has produced the single-most beautiful zine Love Bunni Press has ever had the pleasure of association - SEVEN GENERALS OF DEEP RIVER. Not only is the art amazing, but the production value is unprecedented. Its full color and an abnormal size! Issue two is already in the works.

Other news? Rachel Diamond has also zonked out a zine for us - Monsters & Nonsenses. Rachel and I have been talking about working on a zine together since 1996. While the schemes usually fail, this one might have some legs. And if not legs, then maybe some crutches. I love her monsters, so lets hope so...

03.09.07 I'd like to see you naked so I could play connect the scars.

needleart Elusive Foreign Agent Stevie J. Unbeknownst has recorded the corporate anthem for love bunni press. So now every morning, before the employee breakfast lines form at the sausage pushcart on the edge of the workout yard, they will be able to enjoy their healthy calisthenic with a peppy little diddy to help them physically and mentally prepare for the strenuous day of zine collating. I encourage everyone to download it as it is sure to become mandatory listening pleasure after the revolution! LOVE BUNNI PRESS THEME SONG

electric love bunns Noelle drew the angry bunnis locked in a love stand-off that reminds me of something Viktor Shklovsky wrote in THIRD FACTORY, "But love, as Larisa Reisner said to me, is a play with short acts and long intermissions. One must know how to behave during the intermissions..............................................................................."

01.23.07 “Dreh' dich nicht um, schau, schau, der Kommissar geht um!

grandpa theodor THE DEAD BEAT has a brand new website you should look into!

For those of you who do not know. Anne has written a moving and horrific and funny novel about northern California's punk scene. It also happens to be about a group of friends who have all developed a few little drug habits. Their daily lives are narrated with an amazing pathos and understanding of the addict's mind and existence. It is a powerful piece of prose and I am terribly excited to have it be the second Love Bunni Press paperback.

Oh yeah, and Kristof has sent me some of the paintings he is doing for his art study portfolio. I think he is doing really visually exciting work, maybe his best yet!

Also if you get a chance, I am working on a few writing projects over at the DUST BUNNY JHIAD. I would really love some feedback on that stuff, as I am trying to expand on a few themes and ideas I have had over the last few years.


12.18.06 Even a god should not go around swallowing grenades.

veronica press etsy Jen Thomas, who's amazing work is featured on this humble site, has opened up an etsy store called Veronica Press and she is selling some of the artwork/board games she has made. Highly collectible, so get yours now!

Speaking of etsy.com, there are two other Love Bunni Ladies who have opened stores for you to buy stuff in: there is Noelle's Outlier Art and Mindy's mindiminti. And even I have opened up a spot on esty where one can buy some silly doodles and Blister Packs. Its all so damn cute.

NEW REVIEWS POSTED TOO.

11.16.06 I can tell by your outfit, you must be a cowboy!

derek erdman love bunni logo Are you kidding me for real? or are you kidding me for fake? Either way, totally got some sock-the-monkey-ass reviews of other people's zines on the site now! Miranda the Bastard wrote a scathing review of a glossy something or other. I guess between takes in the new joe biel movie extravaganza! Its wicket frost style.

Not that many of any of you care that much, but I have been doing some serious blogging over at this librarian site thing called SHELF READINGS. Eventually, I will get all Librarian 2.0 on they Dewey Confussled selves! Plus do not forget to look at DUST BUNNY JIHAD where I am still rambling on about my personal melodramamamas.

Can someone please stop me? That would be swell.

11.09.06 'cause in the context of no context

blister pack cover The fine folks over at INTERPUNK! have more copies of Blister Packs for sale. I would suggest you get it from them instead of someplace like Amazon for the simple fact that Amazon rips sooo much off the top of the price that it is brutally unfair to, you, the consumer.

HOLY POOPANTS! the folks over at Fall Of Autumn have published the Joe Biel mockumentary PATCHEZ that features Love Bunni Lady - Miranda the Bastard!

Bill Geiger contacted me with some great photos of False Hope and Confront as well as some scenester shots. Bill was always a really great guy, so I am glad he found me. I put some of the photos he took at a Confront show in Buffalo, New York at the bottom of the Confront Photo page. I hope you enjoy them.

11.08.06 Why did Confront really breakup?

Jerry Beck Confront Logo A huge section of CONFRONT photos have been posted. Thanks to Libby Watson for lending me three photo albums with tons of pictures of nerds and dorks in the various stages of progressive fashion mistakes. In the next couple of days, I hope to have more of her photos up on the site.

I have been updating Dust Bunny Jihad with a surprising regularity. For some odd reason I think people like blogs better than this site. Speaking of this site, I am planning on moving IP providers/webhosts since there a big plans for a site overhaul with video and sound files to come. Any suggestions for great places to contact? I would love to hear about them.

10.23.06 Paranoia is a skill.

jay's plea to the scene JAY OF TODAY, the drummer for Confront and other sundry bands, penned that plaintive on a flyer for a straight-edge show. I am not sure what I am more struck by, the corrections that were necessary since the original was barely written in English or the sincerity with which it was said. I think, if I remember the time at all, it was a touching moment when Jay was trying, through the creation of a single flyer for a show that would probably get cancelled, to announce to all who might see it, what he thought of the deterioration and in-fighting surrounding him. Sometimes words hit harder than fists. All that to say there is a crapload more FLYERS added. A crapload.


10.13.06 You ever feel as if your mind had started to erode?

Art Wall Blanche Ave

I collect art.

10.11.06 I am positive it's the same metal as the piece Masahiko found in Okinawa, this is space titanium.

Selene's Photography of London I have never thought in pictures, nor have I really thought in complete paragraphs like some of the ole theory boys I used to pal around with in college. Nor was I one of those people who could stop everything they were doing and snap a perfect, candid shot of a special someone doing something historically important. I always felt hyper-embarrassed and super-self-conscious when I pointed an out-of-focus lens at some eventful grouping of people. As a result, I have never taken a lot of photographs of anything. And my journals are even more self-controlled and trite, that it has become increasingly difficult to piece together a coherent time line. A time line that has become more and more confused and muddied by the years of drunkardness.
        This dislocation is made all the more acute when confronted by the amazing documentary photographs taken by Selene Lennox. Her images encapsulate the grotesque journey of an out-of-work flaneur who’s perverse attention is drawn, only, to the most degrading rejectamenta. All the more disgraceful because of its inherent explosive beauty and vibrant remainders of color. The City, proper and trademarked, is a confluent maze of prisms and hauntings that border the insane panic of the lost and forgotten and taxi-less. In short, her photos are wonderful.

10.10.06 Nothing seems more like a whorehouse to me than a museum.

Chubbie Fresh drawn by Dwid We collected flyers like my little sister and her friends used to collect puffy stickers. Whole Saturday afternoons were spent huddled around some crappy office supply store’s groaning photocopier. Third generation copies became fifth and sixth generations removed from an original. The images blurred and the words diluted into a grain whiskey wash but we pressed even the worst reproduction back into a bursting manilla file folder. There was a whole underground barter/trading economy associated with the show flyer. A local scene’s prestige was gauged by what national bands their natives opened for and where. As a result, certain clubs became notorious for hosting the Youth Crew denizen or coddling the skull-strewn Scumfucks.
        Less known for the gig poster graphics, these flyers were cutnpaste masterpieces of secret information that flapped down white picket fence suburban streets and curled in the sun of the local punk record shop front window. I have thrown away most of the flyers I had scotch taped to my bedroom wall, but I tried to hang on to the ones to local bands I loved or to those flyers to shows I remember attending. So check the gallery out and let me know if you got any from your manila folder file that you would like to see here.


10.07.06 I am a pin cushion for the Lord

kristof's icebear

I have finally assembled Jen Thomas' TRAILER PARK page. Her show of aquatint etchings was displayed at Vespine Gallery in Chicago, Il. The show ended in September but the images of the prints can now be viewed here. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do. But I doubt you will on the account that I am probably Jen Thomas' biggest fan.
        I also, finally, added some photographs of Kristof Kunssler's paintings that adorn the inside bathroom stalls of some seedy German youth center. I am not sure what goings-on might happen in said seedy youth club, but the fact that Kristof spent considerable amounts of time in there with his little paint cans and brushes certainly could make one's skin crawl, yes?

10.05.06 I'm not Vanilla Ice, I'm not a liar

clevo wormcore

There are two (2) interviews posted over at Cleveland Hardcore Histories. They are both with Integrity. And they are both very funny for different reasons.
        One of the things that I must cop to is the fact that I have always been a shit talker. I have always gone out of my way to make sure that the posturing and the chest punching war dance never went unchallenged by a snide remark. While this did not win me much in the way of credibility or even prestige, it did make me laugh a lot. Cleveland hardcore was a great place to stumble around being a bully to the bullies. No matter how many times I almost got punched in the damn head. I confess this now because the site is shaping up to be a complete mess of false starts and missed ques. I hope you can still dig it. Let me know. LovebunnipresATgmail.com

10.04.06 People say that I'm insane, A victim of society just in pain

destroy all monsters zine

Well, I could not figure it all out, but I did manage to figure out part of it. So that means that there is a digital copy of DESTROY ALL MONSTERS the Rene fFarben children's classic posturing itself online. Is not the internet great for things like this? Yes.
I will, someday, print more copies of that meanwhile all the other Love Bunni Press Zines are still waiting for good homes. I also hope to in the future make clearer and more better digital options available for the savvy digital collector. And we all know you are out there, you slowly growing demographic, you.


10.01.06 It's that plastic girl that caught my eye

magnesium sisters bday cake There is a new Magnesium Sisters comic strip posted. I got the idea over the course of two weekends worth of birthdays. None of which were mine. This fact does not bother me, as I have never really cared much for birthday parties or anything. Which is sort of strange considering how just about every morning I wake up expecting to find a knee high pile of presents piled at the foot of my bed or waiting for me in the living room. Yes and I am very accustomed to the disappointment by now. But the facts are hardly enough to dissuade my enthusiasm. I would rather live under the clouded assumption that the possibility of a morning full of presents may someday be a livable conclusion.
    Speaking of obscure references to lost & forgotten souls, Little Bobby Zeiger has started up what might be one of the best blogs you will ever have the chance to read before it becomes insanely popular and all the devil kids at Parmatown Mall are clamoring about while slurping on their Orange Juiliuses. Check it out CleSoul!
      Aaron Lastukfa and his ragtag band of gloofreeks over at Fall of Autumn turned their website and zine distro one year old today! Congatulations and all the respect I can possibly give. They are going great work over there and are direly committed to the photocopied format. Check out the site, maybe listen to a zinepodcast thing and spend some of your mom's hard earned tip money.

09.24.06 A monster will set fire to the city, and trample on the people who try to run away!

There are too many September birthdays any more. SO. All I have had time to scramble together are still more pictures in Clevo Hardcore Histories. This time I have added a batch of pictures that were taken at the surprise eigteenth birthday party/show my parents threw for me. My mom really organized it with Aaron Melnick because she thought it was sooo neat that all these "straight-edge" kids had so much fun playing in their bands. Actually, it was really cool. And a pretty fun afternoon.


09.22.06 Long ago in days of old, I gave you clubs then broadswords

More pictures in Clevo Hardcore Histories have been added. This time it is the illustrious WINDPIPEs. My favorite Windpipe story has to be the one about when Spot went across the parking lot to the W.117th McDonalds to take a poop. Instead of flushing his bowel movement, he retrieved it from the toilet bowl, wrapped it in some of that tracing paper thin toilet paper, then stood on the sink to lift up a ceiling tile. He flung his poop up into the ceiling of that nasty fast food joint’s men’s room. I wonder how long it took for some poor after-high school minimum wage slub to locate that dried turd, stinking up the place. Totally Priceless.


09.21.06 Waldo Jeffers had reached his limit.

drinky

Well, MaximumRocknRoll #281 includes a review of Track Marks. I find the review very humorous for a few complicated reasons, the most obvious one being that it is pretty self-mocking of the whole hobo- nomad- homeless punk train hopping scene, yet at the same time can not avoid its hip duty to acknowledge anything that celebrates train culture in any way. Personally, I think the zine is beautiful, even if some of the words are better than some of the other ones. It is a real collaborative project of poets which means there is a backwoods dirt road unevenness to the zine's cohesive tone. But, despite the chorus of individual voices, the zine's graphic layout is thought provoking and as well sliced cutnpaste flotsam as I have ever seen. But then what do you expect me to say, I published the durn thing and the folks behind its construction are collaborators and friends.


09.20.06 Our common grave is the love canal.


We are feverishly toiling to get the Dead Beat ready to go to the printers. Schedules make me nervous so I will say little other than that. But maybe add a Soon!

There is a whole bunch of stuff I need to get up here and I am slowly working on it as time permits, but until I can properly sit and stare into the blank eye of the internets you can see some of the new old pictures I have put up on the Clevo Hardcore Histories page. If you would like to contribute flyers, photos, interviews, or stickers, etc. please get in contact with me. I am R.John Xerxes Piche’, a real nice fellow.

08.15.06 If you eliminate me somebody, just like me or even worse, will follow.

Ben's FIFTH GRADE zine got an excellent review in the newish issue of Razorcake which you may read in all its scanned in glory, right here!. So far, his little zine is has been the most requested zine in the history of Love Bunni Press. Plus it has been getting great reviews. Which is something totally alien from the sorts of reviews my zines tend to generate.

Also. New Comix is up. This one is real and true. Actually overhead in an Applebees. Weird.

08.12.06 Monsier, ada-na kobishin angum bitte.

shoulder chin Its been a weak couple of somethings. But there are new photos in the photos section. And by new I just mean new to the Love Bunni Experience. If this were a theme park, I am pretty sure there would only be hand puppets and those metal spring playground horses that were really too rusted to bounce or even sway. And no one would want to come here to play anymore.

I have had a nasty stomach flu for a week now. So, please, bring toilet paper.

07.29.06 F.M.N. F.M.L. Y.L.B.T.

1986 I have put up a whole new page called Cleveland Hardcore Histories of stuff that I collected when I still could dance hard and impress the ladies with my Air Chia Flat Top hair do. It would be really great if you had some photos or flyers or stories, that you would like to share and stuff. I hope to have this section expand to Chubbz Fresh waist line porportions.

If you do have anything you would like to have posted or share with the group, please get in touch with me. I am just sitting here waiting for some EMAILS!

07.27.06 It takes all kind of critters to make Farmer Vincent Fritters!

cookie belly I drew another comic, obviously cribbed from real life. I am rethinking the decision to not draw in my impressive hair-lmet because that thing has reached epic proportions. And I am in very real and constant danger of severe hair related injuries at the moment. But it is going to be at least another week before I can get to the hair cutter place. Anyway, the comic on the right is new and, gosh, I hope you enjoy the laugh at my bloated expense.

Other news? Sure. Denny, formerly of Cleveland zine/website Supreme Nothing, and her folks have produced a new website for goings on and such clevopride topics as Citistats and cola Cover-ups. Frankly, I like where this is all going. Check it out at MyfriendCleveland.com and maybe join the message board so we can argue about comics and stuff.

Also, please consider buying a copy of Blister Packs. They really are quite good, I assure you.

Anyone who wants a random vhs tape of either Jerry Springer Too Hot for TV or COPS Bad Girls, etc. should contact me HERE. I will mail you a copy for free. Supplies are limited so ACT NOW!

07.25.06 She says some monster came out of the sewer and ate her grandfather.

cutey shane Getting on the elevator this afternoon I was lost in a revelry where I would be able to walk up the three flights of stairs without making the crippleds pinch deep into my hips.

Just as the elevator doors slid shut, these tiny unpainted toes snuck in-between those closing doors, the foam sole of the toe’s sandals bumped the doors back open. As the doors glided in opposite directions, the rest of the toe’s skinny girl stepped in the elevator box. A first glance nothing seemed unusual about the girl, she was wrapped in torn camouflage pants that ended in strings near her lower calves and a blue and white spaghetti strap tank top that seemed a bit large. A parachute backpack hung off her shoulders, arching her small spine so her belly protruded slightly beyond the plastic button of her shorts. She relentlessly kept one hand moving up and down the weathered strap that overstuffed backpack, while she looked at everything other than me.

After circling her index finger over the elevator’s floor buttons, she poked it into one of them and seemed amazed when it lit up. Then she started squeezing her nostrils between her thumb and forefinger before moving her open palm up and down the front of her face. While busy containing an invisible and totally nonexistent snot stream, her lungs began to stall. From deep inside her came a cough that sounded more like a missing wheel dumpster being scraped along loose asphalt than anything even remotely organic.

When the elevator crept to a standstill on the third floor, I hesitated, considering staying on for the ride as I had become morbidly curious as to how such an ancient and evil cough ended up in such a small and young girl. The need to expel all the morning’s coffee was a more pressing concern, so I reluctantly stepped out of the elevator and headed toward the bathroom.

While you are at it, check out the impressive painting and twisted comix of Shane Dugree.

07.21.06 No American should find himself in a foreign land without a pistol.

mccinders It seems whenever we go grocery shopping anymore, we always witness a scene of domestic violence. And while I do consider the snarky hand slaps and condescending hip bumps leveled against my person while I attempt, in my own particular Group Home trained eccentric manner, to help unload the grocery cart in the checkout line to be intrusive, such actions are more nervous ticks of the relationship than they are outcropping of genuine domestic aggression. These are more a sternly growled, “Move along, nothing to see here,” rather than a calm Robocop recording, “Dead or alive, you are coming with me.”

Anyway, as I was saying, anymore when we go to the grocery store we always pass by or toll through some pathetic romantic melodrama fueled by the bubbling crazy of Eros gone wrong or some ironically named, poorly labeled alcoholic beverage. Take for instance, as for example even, this one Sunday evening when we were carrying our groceries to the car and chatting about the coming week’s schedule of events and plans, we were bluntly interrupted by “MOTHERFUCKER YOU BEST UNLOCK THIS MOTHERFUCK DOOR BEFORE I BUST IN THIS WHINDA AND PUNCH YOUR DAMN HEAD!”

We looked in the direction the swears were shooting out of to see a middle aged fat woman holding a spray of thin blue plastic bags in one hand while tucked up under her bare sausage arm was a twenty-four pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon. Just inside the dented blue pick-up truck, nibbled by rust, was a man’s bloated and bearded face staring out from behind a smear of hot angry breath fogged across the driver’s side window. I could only make out the elaboration of giggles and uncontrollable head bobbing drool that beaded in his short chin hairs.

Anyway. Whatever that man-on-the-inside said to or about that lady-on-the-outside really made that lady-on-the-outside even madder because before she did anything else she did this little dead stop hop. A sign to all in the area that now was the time to take shelter or run for higher ground because the very next thing she did was to whip that hand pinched on the stretchy handles of those thing blue bags straight up in a half windmill swing. When the bags slammed down onto the hood of the pick-up truck, those bags popped like an over-ripe juicy white-pus filled pimple.

Before any of that junk food spew hit the ground the bearded man-on-the-inside burst into a pick-up truck shaking guffaw that was so loud it frightened the lounging pigeons on the wires into flight. The woman-on-the-outside ripped into this clenched torso hopping war dance, her face the color of a mosquito bite. I stopped watching her performance to continue shoving our groceries into the back of our car.

The other night, as we were deciding whether or not to turn left toward the grocery store or continue straight toward home, I noticed about a block or so up from us two figures grappling between the parked cars. The taller one, his lanky heroin sculpted arms flailing through a drunk pantomime of opening and closing picture window curtains. The small woman stuck on the curb like a toothpick slid between chipped teeth. She was dressed for urban adventure: weight lifter’s harness slung over her shoulders, biker shorts peeled up her bruised thighs, unzipped fanny pack with keys poking out. With a gale force that made her painter’s cap fly off her sweat matted hair, she whipped a cell phone at that man backing away from her across the busy intersection. The cell phone whapped him square in the chest, an accomplishment that impressed me because she was obviously closed-eyed drunk and he was tomato pole skinny and a moving target to boot.

As soon as that skinny man registered the impact, he reversed his direction, doubling back on the wounded alley cat path he just swung out with his scribble leg gait. The confluence of changing direction, trying to snatch of the broken cell phone, and his mid-evening inebriation caused him to stumble, then fall straight down on he face. He hardly touched the ground before bolting back to his wobbly feet, his loud cussing spitted through the blood gushing down his face from his nostrils. The woman who threw the cell phone celebrated her unanticipated success in bringing down her taller antagonist by doing a modern dance interpretation of the Super Bowl Shuffle. The display only made her all the more comically infuriating to the drunk man stomping toward her.

While I watched all this drama unfold, the decision was made to turn left.

07.15.06 You reckon we learned - bein' wrong, today?

sweet gum noose Kristof sent some new paintings along and I think they are pretty great. There is even one of his naked father. Very strange those Germans with the nakedness of the parents. But who am I to understand such cultures? NOBOTS.

Last Wednesday as I was driving to the post office, I noticed a group of children spread across a couple of front lawns, playing. They were yelling and laughing as they yelled and pointing down the sidewalk at a boy. This particular boy was picking himself up off the concrete and spinning around his bicycle in one surprisingly fluid motion. As agilely as he swung himself and his bicycle up from the ground, he leapt back on it and started furiously kicking the bike forward, at top speed. Projecting his trajectory, I saw that he was aimed straight for another bike riding kid who was, in turn, racing straight at him. As these two self-propelled jousters peddled along their handlebar twisting collision course, a group of smaller girls, commanded by the shouting of a rounder, larger girl waving her arms behind them on the lawn, had assembled. As the boys sped closer, the sidewalk girls started chucking rocks at those boys. I am not sure, really, what this new game was, but it sure did look fun.

06.26.06 The limit of every pain is an even greater pain.

track marks We have published a new zine edited and created by a group of artists from Grand Rapids, MI. TRACK MARKS is a compilation meditating on the idea of railroads and trains as instruments of inspiration. It was a great hit of the Allied Media conference and the three primary authors were the subject of a Joe Biel interview. Its got some really good pieces in it and should probably be examined by anyone who is really into trains. Also, back in print is the first issue of Ghosts of Ready Reference. Its the tops.

I have some photos that were taken at the Love Bunni stall during the ALLIED MEDIA CONFERENCE 2006 over this past weekend. Some of them are even of me. A short prose poem recap will be included. Maybe.

06.19.06 Ghost in the Mirror, Starin at me

rods inside Fortified against the New York winter sleet with a pack of Lucky Strike Filters, I perched myself on the edge of the twin bed we weren't sleeping on, its creamy dangerous orange coverlet wrinkled beneath me, an open window releasing gusts of February wind, I lit the first match, its life brightly vibrant against the dull dead man’s philosophy I scanned, absentmindedly.With painful burning coughs, I taught myself to smoke, one breath at a time.

I am going to start a band with Aaron Melnick called THE SADDAMS. And then the real chaos will start. Anyone else going to ALLIED MEDIA CONFERENCE this coming weekend?

06.14.06 Dass ich bei dem Konsum, in zwei Jahren tot bin

miranda skull *Miranda B's art is resonance. Like a secret. I really hope that she continues with the assemblages and the drawings of viruses. I love viral contaminations. Her work is posted on the Paintings page. I hope you will look at it and then send her an email telling her what you think of it all. ALL OF IT.

Also, I am not sure if you noticed but I added some page shots to some of the zines that are available over at the Gloo Freeks section. It will have to be a game for you to figure out which ones, on account of the fact that I forget what I do almost seconds after I do it. Especially if the music is playing.

miranda skull Today I have been thinking a lot about Walter Benjamin. I believe I might attribute my love and appreciation of assistants and fools to his fragments on Sancho Panza. Still, even without the prodding of Benjamin, I would have fixated on the incident of the blanket tossing Sancho suffers at the hands of rogues. Is the assistant foolish to travel with the madman on the adventures of his own making? Sometimes, but the sedate fool might just end up the governor of his own island.

06.12.06 What do you think you overheard in the restroom?

amerikan splendor Doan Buu illustrated a new mini-comic I wrote based on things I have seen actually happen. You should maybe check it out. People have accused me of being the zine world's answer to Harvey Pekar, but I would never let them make a movie about my life.

Doan and I will forever be - IGNATIUS MEN FOREVER.

06.08.06 How can a song about a demon lighting a candle be personal, you dick?

dan force Dan Schierl sent me a package of old zines he used to make, called Blipvert, and the comic strip thing on the right over there. Its pretty funny. In a way that I am not sure I can fully articulate. I think part of it is the whole empty snow-covered field of Wisconsin vibe. And the fact that I married Jen and Dan in totally un'oly mattROmoney.

Aaron A Double Melnick made this video for the Inmates Cement Shoes. It is way better than that frosty film nerd Dwid's silly montages of fruity pebbles cereal and dumb old movies of graveyards that he strung together for the Integrity dvd or whatever it was.

Then if you really want to sustain your manhood for a few minutes, try and watch this MiTB without wanting the world to end, on top of you.

05.30.06 The More You Talk, The Less I Can Say

slide I have uploaded some wicket cool photos by Jen Schierl was one of the first collaborators with the revamped and boa fixated Love Bunni Press. She had just started taking photographs of Milwaukee and its rundown environs and I thought they were the bee's knees. So I asked her if she would like to make a photozine of them snapshots. And she said she sure as shootin' would. The result is Stainless Steel Lens. I tell you all this so that you will bug her into making the second issue, already. She won't listen to me.


05.27.06 Dawn There Waiting, Right Outside

bunni poster picture New Magnesium Sisters comic strip is all up and bothered for your humor pleasure. Its funny because after I drew this I showed it to some co-workers. They thought it was gross. And the one guy said that I am completely unfunny. He won't be laughing when the movie comes out. None of them will mock me then.

Speaking of mocking people, The Inmates' "Asshole's Unanimous Presents" 12" was recorded in 1999 and only 300 were pressed ORIGINALLY. It has been reissued by Painkiller Records with an ugly green cover and lyrics included this time. 600 Pressed for all you record collecting romulans out there. Just to be clear. I never liked any of those INMATES kids because I do not care for fruits.

+VOID+ might have been one of the best hardcore bands ever. And you can see why from these videos. Sometimes I love me some internests. Who Are You? My Rules. And what might be a whole set in three parts Part 1, Part 2, Part 3.

05.26.06 Gotta Stick Together, Gotta Stick Together

bunni poster picture Kristof reappears bearing gifts of a poster variety. I can't tell you how much I really enjoy this thing. I will probably use it for the banner this year on the table at the ALLIED MEDIA CONFERENCE. So if you plan on going, look for the frightened bunnies. Looking frightened.

Down at the bottom of the paintings page, there are now three in a series of Mobile Home Trailer etchings and two of the excellent board games that Ms. Jen Thomas has constructed. She's an inspiration of mine, since she makes paper and I like to put things on paper - like words. SO. Check her stuff out and then write her and tell her what you think of her work.

05.25.06 Imagine there was a time your cigar was ironic.

brood picture JEN THOMAS is one of the most talented and inventive people I have ever known. She has sent me a boatload of photos of her prints, hand made books, and the awesome board games she has designed and made. Tomorrow I will be posting all of that stuff up here on the site.
Why tomorrow? Because I think I got the pink eye and will be home sick. Never should you have to work around the public and their poopy pink eye fingers. Though to be fair to the public, I think I got this infection from a co-worker. Who could not stop picking at the goop in her eye yesterday.

BEWARE THE BROOD!

Back in the mid-80s Aaron Melnick and I spent a whole month of the summer vacation renting horror movies and metal concerts from the video store at Cedar Center. One of the videos we saw that summer was Ultimate Revenge. One of the things that became a running joke throughout that summer was the intro to this EXODUS perfromance.

"It ain't 'bout no trout!"

05.24.06 In Youngstown, it is illegal to run out of gas.

drink picture Updates for today are in the PHOTOgraphs. I added two new Awesome Torture snapshots. The one is sort of frightening to me. The red is just a bit too much like a nightmare I had once of some murdering done with doilies. You should have been there. It was way creepy.
I also moved the political material into the Rants section. More will be added there as I beg some people to contribute essays. We will see.

In the meantime, you can watch THIS MELVINS Video from 1984. You might have to turn it up just to hear it.

05.23.06 I asked her if she wanted to go on the roller coaster instead

Help my friend Jen S. with her research please. And while you are at it tell her you want to see some of her photographs. Since she makes Stainless Steel Lens.
ALSO. Check out the cool RANTS button, I make with my own two hands!

Dear Friends,

I am conducting some very important research, utmost in its scientific relevance and importance. I will be presenting the results of my research in June to my peers at Weird Science II: Your Physics is Dead (check out Cedar Block for more info). Here's where you come in...

booty picture Take a moment, won't you, and tell me in minutes (according to personal experience, social norms, drunken exploits as told by your friends), what is the standard booty call window? You know, when you either send out that text message ten minutes before bar time looking to hook up with that special someone, or you answer the phone in the midnight hour just to hear that husky voice of lust on the other line... how much time do you have to reach your partner of convenience before the mood is gone, the fog has lifted, the ship has sailed, yes - the booty call window has closed.

Respond to me via myspace, or feel free to email me at Booty Call Window Survey no later than Tuesday, June 6, 2006. Please feel free to copy and post this as a new bulletin for your friends - I'd like to compile as much data as possible.

Love and kisses!
Jen


O5.14.06 Dear God, I am sorry I like Black Metal. Your Pal, R.John.

I found an old email in which Cecelia Phillips had taken some photos of the pencil illustrations that she had done for Daisy's novel THE DEAD BEAT. Well here are three of them. I hope you like them as much as Daisy and I do.


In other news, I think I am going to try to set up some readings for any and all the BLISTER PACKS authors who are willing and able to participate. To begin with, I think these staged and dramatic readings will happen in and around Cleveland, Ohio. So if you can suggest a location or wish to be kept informed on these developments, you can email me. I would love to hear from you.

05.22.06 See da Portal, Gate ta Madwess

mes picture THE FALL: America Therein 2006. Peter Cook’s jokes, bad dope, check shirts, lousy groups - Point your fingers at aaaamerikaaaah.

Mark E Smith must be fit and drinkin again, hey. How else can one freely explainah the strange and lousey shit behavior? But then THE FALL are the greatest band made all the greater by their volatile tantrums and nasty walkouts. I have been to too many FALL shows and by far the best I have seen was April 04, 1998 at the Trocadero in Philadelphia. I wrote a review of the show which was first published in Uncertain Nervous Systems: Infinte Uses for Infinity. Read it here: Part One. Part Two.

05.19.06 I was moved to kick the crutches

ashtray picture I updated the BLISTER PACKS page. So there are now (some) updated author biographies and the reviews link now works for klink. The book is still utterly available and waiting for you to take it home and read it in bed. Or on the potty. Though it is not ideal for using as subsitute toilet paper. Even if you crumple up the pages.

Also, in the next few days I will be adding a story section for those of you who wish to or have already contributed stories. I hope once we get enough of them, we can go to print with a second anthology. So those of you who doubted the BLISTER PACKS was going to be a real book with pages and everything and who have been kicking yourself that you did not contribute, now is your chance. Don't miss out again, struggling author!

Finally, I will also be adding a RANTS page in which I will be publishing digital essays. So if you have something that you feel needs to be shouted into the windstorm, get in touch with me. I am R.John Xerxes Piche'.


05.17.06 So since the surgery, how's that ghost limb

blue picture I've added two more of Torture's photos to the 'photographs' section, there. I think the one titled Blue is my favorite of all time, so far. I also added some Magnesium Sisters cartoon strips. See if you can figure out which ones I moved over from other places. It will be like a game. A game with no winners.

Love Bunni Press will be tabling again this year at the ALLIED MEDIA CONFERENCE. Hopefully, there will be a few of the Love Bunni Ladies in attendance. This is the fourth or fifth year we have been gathering to hand out free zines to other zine kids and generally look surly and tough while sitting at a card table decorated with glorified flyers. And every year when it is over, I say that I will not go back next year. Its like a little joke that I play on myself. Why do I say it? Because every year when it is over I feel old and tired and out-of-step with the kids. But then, later, I remember, no one EVER liked me to begin with! BWAHAHAHAHAHAAAA.

O5.15.06 Mojique plants devices in the Free Trade Zone

fifthrev picture Ben Frazier's FIFTH GRADE got a typical Love Bunni Press review in MaximumRocknRoll #277. I swear to the lack-of-god, nothing I have ever published has ever gotten a good review from that newsprint monstrosity. I guess, we will never be in the in-crowd. I am pretty sure every review has mocked, misunderstood, or labeled in some negative way the zine I sent them to review. I suppose it is a left coast thing. Since, Love Bunni Press is populated with MILDEW ARTISTS and other MOLE PEOPLE. Bear in mind, that I am not complaining. I just find it funny. I find it kind of strange. That the dreams in which I am dying are the best I ever had.

bathroom picture I have also added a few photographs from an artist who refuses to acknowledge that she is an artist - let alone a photographer. And laughs aloud when I call her such. But, her self-portraits are as wonderful as any still life or urban decay space that one might happen to stumble upon while trespassing on other's abandoned property. In fact, her work is so free of self-consciousness that it reveals the very nature of the artificial self-consciousness that the interweb has structured around us.But then I tend to see complex ciphers everywhere.

O5.13.06 I do not care. That Lady Man was a good kisser!

yard picture Ben G. can't stop with the photopoem beebop. And this one has a Happy Mother's Day theme, which I am sure is purely accidential, because between the two of us, we can barely find the calendar let alone plan ahead using it. Some people can use tools, others make words dance. But in all seriousness, Ben is probably the best damn poet Cleveland has currently working. I am really happy that he has been so supportive of the effort and continues to produce such wonderful content. Someday we will get a book out, together.

Also, I added three zines to the GLOO FREEKS page. Mindy's UNDECILUNAs are now both back in print. I hear grumbling that there maybe a third one soon. No word if the crazy ninja mimes show up in it or not, which I find incredibly disappointing. DESTORY ALL MONSTERS is also up. The whole contents will eventually become available online. I just have to figger out the best way to put it up.

O5.12.06 Cause of death? Dancing Machine!

tindrum picture Kristof K. has sent me another scan of a painting he completed recently. This one is the first in a series tentatively called A Painted (subjective) History of Post-WWII Literature.
It is a rendering of Gunter Grass’ A TIN DRUM. He would love to hear what you think of it. Also if you have any Post-WWII literature that you think should be considered for the set, he would like to strike up that conversation as well. He’s a fine and polite chap. So get in touch with his baaaaad ass.

river picture Ben Gulyas sent me this poem & its visualization. I am not sure that you people properly understand this man. I mean I'm no, I can't...I'm a little man, I'm a little man, he's... he's a great man. I should have been a pair of ragged claws scuttling across floors of silent seas...

O5.10.06 What's to argue about? Its a booger!

maltbird picture Kristof K. produced a new record cover painting. You could look at it more closely if you would like.
There have been a few inquiries about buying his artwork. My suggestion is to contact HIM and try and strike up a deal. Maybe someday Love Bunni Press will publish a comic or set of posters of his, but seeing as this might be the first he hears about it, all this could change, drastically.

I am in the process of trying to convince some other people to contribute to this site and if that comes through there will eventually be larger changes to the layout. I would love to hear any feedback you might have about this project or any others. So please contact me as you will --> R. John Xerxes, KSC.

O5.07.06 Tease are de peoples in my neighbourhood!

Greetings interweb friends!

I have updated and added content to the paintings & photography links. I hope that the several artists that I have included meet up with your high standards. I am sure they would love to hear from you, especially if you enjoy their work and are interested in either working with them on some michievious collaboration or purchasing/trading in kind.

In other news, Daisy Aal's novel THE DEAD BEAT is in the final stages of pre-production and should be ready for a readership in a few short weeks. Of course, the lack of a god might prove to delay things.

For those of you who do not know, Daisy wrote a book about meth addicts in the San Francisco/Bay area circa 1997 or so. It is a unflinching account of drug addiction that manages to capture the humor and horror of a life slowly coming apart in the middle. I think it is a wonderful narrative and pretty much you will too. It has awesome drawings and decorations by Cleveland artist Cecelia Phillips, who has been getting all sorts of great press and gallery shows. Personally, I love her paintings and am very excited she is involved in this project.

O5.04.06 We Call Him Robot Fighter for a Clever Reason!

The Russian Attorney’s Tale
(as told to R.JXP by a very mean man).

"Standink on side of rhoad, I know dat kitty eskaped. I love dat kitty, soh I look, yeh, look? begin to look at her. With horse and whip, whip for horse, no? I look. Here. There. I look but no do find. I remember kitty go with dog down street, mile I wendt to get. Find kitty sleep in mud with big droolind mutt. I peak up cat - DON’T YOU VANT COME HOME FOR ME? Cat look on me - NEIT, I VANT TO STAY ANT LIVE VIFF DOG. Bekuz in dream, cats, dey talk."

* * *

POST-PUNK JUNK has posted some rare FALL tracks that you should probably listen to over and over again. I know I might.

I drew this tonight at work (click thumbnail to see whole thing). I was thinking about all the various people I see in a day and wondered what it would be like if they were all enjoying fellowship and coffee after an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. I think it would be fairly subdued.

O5.03.06 He slowly undo her bra...

Updates to the photos & paintings. I added some of ben gulyas' snapshots. I am pretty sure he thinks he is a tourist in his own life. And two paintings by Kristof, who works in oils and smears on the backs of thrift store german LPs, probably shoplifted.

Stardate:O4.26.06 Lawn-based Cryptozoology

I’ve had the smoked nights of neon, smeared across the taxi cab horizon. I’ve muddled through the side alleys and vomited into garbage bags I had to claw open with a fistful of car keys. I’ve stormed up the subway stairs to emerge, with a breathless pop of a internal valve, eyes swimming back in my skull, re-introducing myself to the people I arrived with. I’ve had those mornings too. Where life is reaffirmed by inflamation.

But more importantly, when I was child, I convinced myself that if I flicked my excavated boogers or peeled off scabs outside, into the grass of the yard, there was the distinct possibility, if not assured occurrence, that the ants or spiders or other small pincher insects would find the carelessly discard human waste and they would find it delicious. That taste I would have introduced them to, would, in short order, become a full fledged need and those creepy crawlies would seek out the dark cavities and healing wounds of me or some other unlucky innocent to feast and feast and feast. The terror and horrible result? The end of humankind.

Edward Gorey was right on, there, ALL HAIL THE INSECT GODS!


4.25.06 Lincoln Log Capitalism

Nope. Its all fire and brimstone and the ovulations of Republicans who are born with rifle sights for eyes. Wish me luck. I am going in.

Plus check this out, money. New Magnesium Sisters Adventure!

4.20.06 Frederick II V. Habermas V. Throbbing Gristle

"A private person has no right to pass public and perhaps even disapproving judgment on the actions, procedures, laws, regulations, and ordinances of Sovereigns and Courts, their officials, assemblies and courts of law, or to promulgate or publish in print pertinent reports that he manages to obtain. For a private person is not at all capable of make such judgment, because he lacks complete knowledge of circumstances and motives." - rescript of Frederick II 1784, quoted in Baron De Montesquieu THE SPIRIT OF LAWS.

Literary self-clarification - "...psychological interests also guided the critical discussion sparked by the products of culture that had become publicly accessible: in the reading room and the theaters, in museums and at concerts." - Prof. Jürgen Habermas, The Structural Transformation of the Public Sphere, page 29.

"There's one way though
That you'll never convince people
And that's when you try
To be someone
Who's not telling
And who's not trying to compel
Who's trying to tell you
What you ought to be
Convinced of"
-Throbbing Gristle, "convincing people" fifth track on 20 Jazz Funk Greats album, 4 mins 54 secs.

4.16.06 If I Could Only Save One

Updates to Links.

Basically, the sun is rotting out all the paper I have buried myself under. And this is a positive thing because eventually I will be able to worm my way free of the brittle and flaking pages. Until then I suffer the indignity of trying to make a hobby about of words.

Try reading Bohumil Hrabal's Too Loud A Solitude and getting back to me.

4.13.06 Cut n Paste Revolution is dead?

Those are buttons to the left. They take you places. Where zines and comics and books live. Eventually this site will have more downloadable zine content and some artwork made by some awesome ladies. I can't wait. Can you?

4.12.06 Toward A Ghetto Interior

“Make a map not a tracing. The orchid does not reproduce a tracing of the wasp; it forms a map with the wasp, in a rhizome. What distinguishes the map from the tracing is that it is entirely oriented toward an experimentation with the real. …the map is open and connectable in all of its dimensions; it is detachable, reversible, susceptible to constant modification. It can be torn, reversed, adapted to any kind of mounting, reworked by an individual, group, or social formation. It can be drawn on a wall, conceived of as a work of art, constructed as a political action or as a meditation. Perhaps one of the most important characteristics of the rhizome is that it always has multiple entryways.” - Deleuze & Guattari 1000 Plateaus