People never ask me about the Bill of Rights. I consider this an unfortunate state of affairs because I have developed several cogent remarks that concern this subject. Lacking a proper audience I pollute the Internet. Continue reading “Bill of Rights Redux”
The gates of Psycho Pasture opened after Jim ate the banana, and the whole host of pedophiles was unleashed upon the grand plane of paradise. There were some like Jim and the King, who had suffered innocently in the unlucky crossfire between the devil’s conceit and humanity’s prejudice – but most were pale and greasy and thoroughly guilty. Tens of thousands of child-raping men and women stepped out into the light and were bewildered by it. Continue reading “Escape from Psycho Pasture – Part 3 [Jim #19, Short Fiction]”
For two years Jim occupied a dungeon cell at Psycho Pasture. His leg was chained to a radiator, he used a stamping machine to make customized license plates for the non-rapist free peoples of paradise, and his cell mate was a pale and greasy man with thin hair and skin disease. Garvey was remorseless about his pedophilia, and Jim often tried to convince Garvey that he ought to feel bad about raping children.
“I mean, at the very least you know that you’re an asshole, right?” Jim said on several occasions. “All other considerations aside, all arguments out the window, in the absence of God and absolute moral authority – you still know in your heart that you’re asshole.” Continue reading “Escape from Psycho Pasture – Part 2 [Jim #18, Short Fiction] #18”
The Psycho Rapist Pasture wasn’t really a pasture. It was more like a circular prison that never came around all the way, and in the middle there was an off-limits garden. Jim figured calling it a pasture was some kind of euphemism.
“And if you’ll look over here,” said the chipper tour guide, “you’ll see the Masochist Chambers, where psychotics can torture, bind, mutilate, and rape a few lucky visitors. The facility is equipped with every known torture machine devised by man, dating all the way back to the bronze age – and a few that the angels cooked up themselves.” Continue reading “Escape from Psycho Pasture – Part 1 [Jim #17, Short Fiction]”
Hey guys, not sure if there’s any of you still out there. Haven’t posted in a while. But that short film based on my Jim stories is finally available online. Here it is in all of it’s irreverent glory: (password is 1truthroad)
Thanks to everyone involved for a wild ride, and especially to you if you’re reading this. If you’re one of the 8 billion people that hasn’t checked out the illustrated novel yet, it’s free for a couple of days:
Keep the indies alive!
Abdulaziz al-Omari stood on the corner of a busy intersection in Downtown Paradise. He rang a bell and wore a cardboard sign that said, 911 was an inside job. He looked weathered.
Jim watched him from the veranda of the ice cream shop, spooning sundae into his mouth. The terrorist didn’t wear much for an expression – maybe it was sober and kind of defeated – and he just rang his bell with long steady swings of his arm. Every now and again a passerby dropped a nickel in his tin can. Continue reading “A Mile High in Paradise [Jim #16, Short Fiction]”
The Downtown Apocalypse Exchange was on the corner of Smoke Street and Mirror Avenue. Steel and glass rose out of the thoroughfare and knifed into the Paradise sky. Jim followed Rockefeller in through the revolving doors. Continue reading “Metadirt – Part 2 [Jim #15, Short Fiction]”
The Book of Jim: Agnostic Parables and Dick Jokes from Lucifer’s Paradise – finally published. Took me a few more months than I thought it would, but it was worth it. The paperback is slick as hell, the kindle works great, the illustrations are fantastic. Really happy with it. If you’re a nook-head, the nook version will be available as soon as I can get it to work. Epub is a nightmare when it comes to images. Anyway, here are the amazon links to the paperback and kindle editions:
The stories are still floating around on the blog, free as ever. Metadirt Part 2 coming soon.
Well, if you’ve been following these crazy stories at all, you’ll have noticed that there’s been a significant drop in the rate of posts lately. I finally got another story uploaded – if you didn’t see it on the main page it’s right here. It’s a two or three parter, so expect some more soon.
As for the novel, the manuscript is finished and the illustrations and cover are on the way, and all that’s left is the drudgery of formatting. The Book of Jim will be available in paperback, kindle, and nook real soon. For real this time. I promise. If it’s not, I’m either dead or insane or both, and you should probably look for something else to read.
The short film Limbo is finished. I’ve seen the final cut, and it’s hilarious. I love every second it. Fangso and Haines did a brilliant job on it. Most recently it’s been accepted to a film festival in Florida, and we’re waiting to hear from Tribeca. If you’re one of those amazing and intellectually disturbed people who put money into the kickstarter, hopefully you’ve gotten all the updates and goodies you were promised. If otherwise, get a message to me and we’ll make sure you get sorted. The film itself, you’ll have to wait a little while longer while it runs through the festivals. They can’t release it while it’s “on the circuit”. How big of a while I’m not sure. Probably a few months yet. And after that, it will be available for free online. Especially on this blog.
That’s it for now. Expect the book and some more stories soon.
There was a knock on the door. Jim opened it, expecting cake or tits or something else that was nice. Instead he got a face full of Billy Mays.
“Hey Jim! Remember me? We met at Lucy’s party. Well we didn’t really meet, you wore my head around for a while before you bashed everybody’s limbs off with a baseball bat. Of course you remember me. It’s the beard, everyone remembers the beard. You mind if I come in? I think I should come in. This is a lovely house! Wow! I love the couch! Is that Chenille?”
“Um, I don’t know. What are you doing here?” Jim wasn’t wearing pants.
Billy sniffed the coffee table. “Pine was a good choice,” he said. “Have you ever considered purchasing insurance against the eternal, Jim?” Continue reading “Metadirt – Part 1 [Jim #14, Short Fiction]”