Darker And Cynical

          I have grown quite cynical and darker in my old age. The older I get the less tolerant I am to other people’s bullshit. At my age I have become quite comfortable with myself and who I am. It drives me nuts when I encounter needy people or people who can’t seem to make up their mind. They want to be with you and then they decide they don’t. Who has time for that shit? At some point I’m going to get tired of waiting and move on.

     I have a personal graveyard littered with the discarded and forgotten. Buried here are the people that I have no use for or the ones who have somehow let me down. This graveyard is massive and if you took a tour you’d be amazed at how large this fucker is. I could point out gravestones and tell you exactly why they needed buried.

     I always assumed that the older I got  the easier my life would be. I would sail into my forties and be happy with my life but fucking people are ruining it. My marriage went to shit three years ago and dating quickly turned into a fucking nightmare. I decided that in order to be happy I needed less distractions and decided it was about time I became a recluse.

     When you become comfortable with your decisions and let go of all the things that people assume are a part of a happy life. Or if you decide not to date and are in fact ok with spending the rest of your life alone it tends to freak people out. There has to be an understanding that I know what’s best for me. I want to go into my fifties and sixties confident that I made the right choices and after all isn’t me that has to live with those choices?

     I have become darker and more cynical but I have never been happier. When all is said and done that’s really all that matters. I occasionally stroll out to the personal graveyard just to pay my respects and make sure no one has gotten out of their grave. Maybe someday I’ll give it a name. It’s the least I could do. So many people buried here and my graveyard doesn’t even have a name.

    Looking back maybe some of those people didn’t need to be removed but in the end does it even matter? We all make choices in our life and I spend no amount of time reflecting or pondering. My life has turned out well and I never have a moment where I wonder what if because I always look forward never backward.

     That’s the message I want to leave everyone when I finally leave the planet. Keep moving forward and make sure the dead stay buried. There’s no time for wondering how life could have been different. What are you doing now? Are you happy with who you are and where you are? If not it’s your own damn fault.

     I look forward to being the cantankerous old guy who is always pissed off and wanders around wearing a diaper and flip flops. I want the pimp cane or at the very least a walker that’s black with white stripes. Maybe even a basket so I have something to carry my Twinkies in.

     Growing older should be fun so why not piss on trees and occasionally grab a few titties. Being elderly earns you respect and privileges that most people would kill for. So I embrace getting older and plan on living a very very long time. 


Mothman 2013

     I’m a huge fan of random off the wall stuff so when my best friend suggested we go to Point Pleasant West Virginia to check out the Mothman Festival I was all for it because the way she suggested it made perfect sense. A random thing to do just to say we did it. Everyone takes a road trip to somewhere totally off the wall. It’s just who we are and what we do. Everyone takes that one road trip to have a cool story to tell.

     The Mothman, depending on who you are is either a myth or an actual creature that may or not exist. There are people who swear they saw him and of course you have people who are willing to debunk whatever claims there are. In some instances the appearances seem tied into the collapse of the Silver Bridge so he may have come to warn them.

Regardless the drive from Ohio to Point Pleasant is in fact pleasant. There was idea that this festival would be crazy and fun but when we got there we drove past it three times. Usually when there’s a festival there are arrows and signs but we got nothing of the sort. These people are proud of the Mothman but if you’re from out of town good luck finding it.

We did drive over two bridges one of which was the rebuilt Silver Bridge that collapsed in ’66. It has a weird vibe because the bridge is tied into the myth of the Mothman so all you can really think is what these people were thinking as this thing collapsed. There is no land underneath it you so you hit water. That is a horrible way for anyone to die.

Once we found the Mothman festival it wasn’t what I expected. Point Pleasant is a small town anyway so the festival was just maybe two blocks long and there are all sorts of vendors and booths that are somehow linked to the Mothman legend.

These are hardcore mother fucking paranormal researchers that will throw all these weird scenarios at you and truly live for this shit. Once you get through that you have the monster hunters that are there because it all ties into the Bigfoot and other legends.

While the festival itself was a bit dissapointing there was the Mothman Museum which had a lot of props from the movie and videos that make you wonder if it was in fact real and not a bunch of crazy people with a mass delusion.

I did get to be the Mothman which was pretty cool. How many of you can say that for a second you were in fact the Mothman? Nope you can’t.

As I walked through the town I could see that there was a great deal of history to Point Pleasant. The Mothman is a huge part of who they are but so is the American Civil War and a haunted hotel

The town itself is kind of, well a lot creepy. It’s one of those places you want to spend a weekend in because you know it’s haunted. There were a great deal of deaths here and if a town were haunted this would be it. The Mothman is pretty damn cool but there’s more going on and I was really surprised by it. You never expect all these other stories and historical facts but they sometimes come up.

There were a lot of odd people walking around and they all looked off but maybe it was just the festival that brought in these odd crazy looking people. Look what they came to see for God’s sake. A fucking Mothman.

The high point of Point Pleasant was a cemetary right in the center of town. This place had a vibe that told you this was a place you needed to be in the dark. These were grave from the 1800’s that in some places had deteriorated so badly there were no longer any headstones just a worn place in the grass.

Death seemed to plaugue the town and again I was filled with awe that a place like this could exist. The trip initially was about the Mothman but ended up being more than I imagined. I don’t know if my side kick felt the same way but I thought that there was so much sadness there it didn’t seem possible for it to continue thriving.

Have you ever been to Mineral Wells West Virginia? It’s a very cool small town that has all these twisty roads and if you go deep into town the roads become gravel and clay and narrow. You look on either side of you and you notice that there is nothing beside you. The land just drops and one wrong turn your dead.

This is where my best friend actually grew up and I swear I heard banjos. I read The Woods Are Dark and Creekers but I have never been in places like this and it frightened me. I kept looking out for good ol’ boys who were sex crazed and retard strong. It’s not the kind of place you want to break down.

The side trip was cool even though I kept thinking we were going to plunge our deaths. People would pass by and wave and all I kept thinking was we are going to slide off the road and die. Despite that it was so desolate it was almost soothing once you got over the mind numbing terror.

Would I ever venture back to either town? Hell yeah. The lure of the ghosts of Point Pleasant and the chance to see the house my best friend grew up in make a second trip necessary. There is a lot more I would like to see and at some point I’ll venture back.

Internet Dating??

     Why in the hell is my email being invaded by so many dating adverts? My spam box is full of this shit and I have tried to look at some of it without laughing but it’s hard. These people assume that I’m lonely or in desperate need if their services. I assure you I’m not and if push came to shove I could hit any bar during ladies night and pick up some desirable wreck of a woman.
     What scares me is that even Christians are jumping onto the web dating band wagon which is quite humorous to me. What the fuck do these ads say? Aren’t Christians supposed to wait until marriage to have sex? What man is going to agree to a date a woman if he knows that there won’t be any sex at any point during the date? Why would he agree to have a relationship with anyone that won’t put out?
   Wouldn’t that be like going to the supermarket and pushing a cart and not buying anything? At some point you’re going to get bored and start shopping. Men can’t date unless they know or feel pretty confident that at some point there’s going to be some sex. We want to see our women naked.

    Online dating is kind of like hitting rock bottom. Once you hit every bar and have dated all of the people you’ve been set up with and have still not found the right person then you go online with all the other losers who can’t find a date through traditional means. You may think it’s a good idea but once you set up the profile there’s that moment of sadness.

    You have to wade through the Quisimodo’s and bearded ladies but your dream woman is only a click away. Her picture may be grainy but read her stats! She could be the one! When you finally meet her she has a peg leg and a really bad stutter.
   I have always viewed online dating as the equivalent for being picked last in kick ball. The only people left are sneezy and wheezy so why even bother? At some point the flaws are going to appear and your dream date becomes a wheezing sneezing nightmare.   
    I couldn’t even use these sites due to my interests being so left field. They see my blog or my Goodreads page and it’s obvious that I don’t follow a normal thought pattern. My dream woman cannnot exist online. It’s not realistic. My dream woman is sitting in a coffee shop somewhere reading a Richard Laymon novel and she’s wearing a wife beater and sweat pants.
  I avoid these ads and chuckle when they compare me with someone because all they’re going by is the bullshit I put in two years ago when I was bored. None of it is true and I thought maybe it would go away but it hasn’t. Chicks are still responding and I keep ignoring it.

       If I see a chick wearing a wife beater and a pair of sweat pants I will respond and at some point I’ll have to meet her unless she’s on a Christian website. I like sex and refuse to get divorced just so I can get laid. It’s just not worth it. I’m separated but I have yet to get divorced because I don’t ever want to get married again. Being married is a great deterrent.

Schasm: A Review

     Here’s the part where I’m supposed to tell you that I received a copy of Schasm in exchange for an honest review and that’s what I intend to do. If I read a book and it sucks why would I lie and tell you to buy it? All of my reviews are honest even if an author was nice enough to give me a free copy or I bought it myself. Thanks to Shari J Ryan for hooking me up with a copy to review.


     At first this appears to be one of those mind numbing books ln which you have to figure everything out on your own. Thankfully this proves false and as the story progresses everything is answered and it makes total sense.

     The important thing here is Chloe and her ability to drift between realities. We also have an overbearing and abusive mother and a father who really doesn’t exist. Then we meet Alex and that is what the story is about. It’s the relationship between Alex and Chloe that keeps the book moving and interesting.

     For a debut novel this is quite good. I forgot that this was a novel geared toward young adults and didn’t really mind that it was supposed to be a romance. What made the book so good was how much effort Shari J Ryan put into this book. The story is engrossing and you are drawn to Chloe and even sympathize with her. When you are taken to these other realities you are right there with her.

     I kept waiting for the book to lose momentum but it never did. I couldn’t stop reading and finished this in a day. I had to find out what happened and how it all ended. I hope that the story of Alex and Chloe continue because Sheri left a lot of unanswered questions but the real question here is can she pull off a second book as good as Schasm?



Dead Clown Barbecue: A Review

     I have to be honest and say that before picking up Dead Clown Barbecue I had heard about Jeff Strand but never read his work. I have a huge backlog of stuff to read so I figured at some point I’d get around to reading some thing he had written. Just didn’t know when.

     I saw the cover for Dead Clown Barbercue and was instantly intrigued. Hell, even the title made me giggle so I knew at some point I’d be checking this book out. I was loading up my Kindle app and there it was in my recommended list. To give you an idea of what kind of shit Amazon usually recommends there’s usually a lot of Bryan Smith  some Edward Lee and a few other splatterpunk writers.

     As soon as I saw it I clicked the buy button and settled down for some Barbecue.


     This is a short story collection that can’t really be pinned down to just one genre. If you’re a fan of bizarro and horror you’ll feel right at home here but of you tend to shy away from the bizarro then you may not enjoy this book at all which is really unfortunate because Dead Clown Barbercue is an insane mix of both genres.

     Jeff Strand balances both very well and even throws in a bit of black humor just to keep you on your toes. What makes Dead Clown so enjoyable aside from the stories themselves is the fact that you never know what to expect. You have the down right Creepiness of Gramma’s Corpse and you see just how talented Strand is.

     When it comes to writers it seems as if the short story is their weakness and trying to read a book with twenty three of them can be a bit tedious and grueling but Barbecue is one of those anthologies you can actually make it through and if you’re like me and have never heard of Jeff Strand this is a good place to start. Highly recommended for fans of horror and bizarro.


A Crazy Idea

     I read a lot and I have reviewed quite a few books  on Amazon and Goodreads so why not use the blog to promote the mass of splatterpunk and bizarro that I read? That way I can promote what I like and support indie authors in the process. Makes sense right?

     Here’s the deal. Any bizarro/splatterpunk authors that would be interested in having their book reviewed send me an email and I will be more than willing to post an honest review. The blog will then cover a wide variety of areas and since I read all the time why not include books?

More random thoughts while at church

     I promised my mom I would attend church with her and my step dad. I should feel guilty due to my lack of faith but it makes mom happy so that’s really all that matters. When we promise someone we’ll go all we’re saying is that we’ll show up. We didn’t promise to pay attention or even participate. Shit, sometime the only reason some people go is due to insane pressure from someone else.

     Our church is held in the basement of a gym that once was a church. Seems kinda funny when you walk in and see gym equipment where pews used to be. I wonder if they have communion? Instead of wafers and grape juice they offer steroids and muscle milk. Makes the workout that much harder when someone is screaming; “Jesus was nailed to a cross and died but you can’t do five more minutes on a treadmill?!”



     This is a painting above the door the basement. I have no idea what it’s supposed to represent but it’s creepy as shit. Who the hell painted this and why? Why is she gray? If this is supposed to motivate you I would like to know how.

     Finally I get in there and grab my donut and coffee and really psyche myself up. I know that for some people this is go time for true enlightenment or some sort of message from God but for me it’s a chance for my mind to wander and truly focus on the message and concentrate but it’s hard. Everyone is singing off key and really sucked into the vortex bof God except me. The vortex of God is where the magic happens yet I can’t find it.

    I am determined to focus this time. No bullshit distracting me. I refuse to think about the chick with the funky toes or the chick behind me that always smiles at me as if she’s just envisioned me naked or something. How the hell do you not think? How do you keep random shit from popping up in your head?

     I of course can’t do it so I load up Amazon and look up some Edward Lee. I figure while everyone else is singing and imagining a perfect world where Jesus is spreading love like a hippy I may as well do something productive. Splatterpunk book shopping just feels right.

     I suddenly get the worst or maybe the most awesome idea ever. There’s this woman I like so I figure I’d send her some naughty texts. Yeah, I realize where I am but it’s not like I took her into the confessional booth for a little slap and tickle. These are harmless texts asking simple questions like what are you wearing?

     As the preacher begins speaking I begin to think about something he just said. We want to get closer to God. What better way to get closer to God than through sex. If done correctly you can have a woman speaking in tongues or quit possibly seeing visions of all sorts of shit. You know your good in bed when you can make a woman speak in a language that doesn’t exist.

     We all want that holy and divine experience. We want to feel as if we touched God, or saw a Saint. Some people do drugs to experience that shit while others get it through fucking. I never got real high and saw Jesus and I wonder how many people have. Good sex will make your eyes roll back in your head and hope for an exorcism.

     I dwell on the sexting in church and wonder if it’s wrong or somehow blasphemous. Am I supposed to feel guilt or shame? While the people around me are focused on some message from God I’m thinking about sex. What the hell is wrong with me? I can’t be the only one who’s done this am I?

     Finally It’s all over and I realize that once again I learned nothing. I allowed myself to become distracted and I even mamnaged to download a Jack Ketchum book for my Kindle. Maybe I’m just not cut out for church anymore.