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Askew Review 15

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6.25.19- are going away soon. We are still kicking, but the websites are too much of a pain in the arse. Please follow our Bone Print Press page to keep up with our news/releases/nonsense. Cheers - denis ( 

6.14- Hey! If any of my Boston/Alston buds are near O'Brien's…might you please swing in and check out the corkboard to the left of the women's room. If you see the flyer for the Dr. Frank/Even in Blackouts show, please swipe it for me. Do not fold! Hit me up and I'll make it well worth your while. Meant to grab it the other night..

1.15- I wrote this book review a thousand years back, but since this tragic event has some kind of hold on me, I repost every year on the anniversary of the Boston Molasses flood. As a wee laddy, My Grandpappy used to tell me stories about this flood and often spoke of how he could still smell the molasses on hot days.

  1.5- Man, time got away from me. 
  Done walked to the post office, today (brrrr).
  “May I have a book of stamps, please?” I requested.
  “Is the American flag ok?” the female clerk asked.
  “Do you have anything that screams ‘I’m a single man ready to hot to trot but looking for love in all the wrong places?’” I replied.
  The clerk scanned the bar code on the book of American flag stamps and pushed them toward me, “No. That’ll be $9.80.”

  10.27- I’ve always found Thomas Jane to be nothing more than an ok actor. I’ve never avoided a movie because of him, but I’ve also never watched a movie because of him. However, Jane’s performance in 1922 is really got-dang good and I offer him a good ol’ Denis Sheehan raised pint, mother f’ers.

  10.16- Today I realized my cat, Salem, is more chicken than feline. I returned home from a run and planted it on my couch when I noticed Salem running from window to window defeated by drawn blinds. This behavior indicates there is a hobo kitty someplace close outside. Being the caring loving fella’ I am, I opened the blinds to the window overlooking the driveway. Salem hopped up onto the sill and we both saw a skinny hobo kitty on the driveway. The hobo noticed us, as well. Salem’s tail flung about hard hitting the closed window. We had the higher ground as the window is approx six feet over the asphalt. We had the window between us and the outside. Salem’s tail hit the window again and the hobo kitty raised onto his/her hind legs and charged toward the house with its front legs and paws held high as if readying for an 1890 bare knuckled brawl between two handlebar mustached Irish men. Admittedly, it was an impressive move and an impressive move I’ve never witnessed. I thought to myself, “Holy crap!” while Salem, unaware of our war battle advantages, propelled away from the window at record speed knocking the shyt out of the shyt on my speaker and ran away into Wee Lass’ bedroom on the other side of the house. The hobo peered up at me. I smacked the window yelling, “Piss off!” The hobo scampered away with victory in its eyes.

  8.23- Recently I worked a wedding and, unlike most weddings, this one was a damn good time. I mean it was a damn god time for the party goers (they tore through cases of beer, albeit Bud Light…dipshyts). For those working, it was hard work, but since I find this type of hard work fun, it was a damn good time for me, as well. At one point somewhat early in the evening, a bridesmaid approached me and handed me some minis. She also handed me a plastic bag containing three empty minis.
  “Hey, please take these. If my boyfriend sees me with these he’ll kill me. I can’t drink what he doesn’t know about.” She said.
  A few hours before, I had briefly spoken with this woman and she was funny, friendly, and one of those people who simply seemed like a good person to be around.
  Oh, and she is got-dang hot, but that did not necessarily add to her likeableness (likeability?). Her personality in a wart hog would have been attractive. I truly think this.
  I took the stuff from her and being the dick I am, said, “Of course, but only if you share the Cannon with me.”
  “Oh, a man after my own heart…”
  We split the mini and that was that.
  Throughout the night I noticed her man was treating her like shyt...and he was a goofy lookin’ sum’bitch.
  I began to wonder why hot chicks are attracted to arseholes. It was obvious he was one controlling mofo and only acted to get a reaction from her.
  Then I realized that I too am an arsehole when it comes to relationships. However, I am not controlling…exact opposite, in fact, which may be just as bad. And I recognize my flaws, but choose to accept them and be honest about them rather than try to fix the impossible.
  Crap…I’ve no idea where I was going with this because I stopped to write a cool recipe idea.

  7.25- I'm still kicking, good lookin' readers. Been busy this summer trying to land a decent full time job while working on my next book. The book is coming along fine, but the job hunt stinks. It's been belittling, frustrating, and a got-dang distraction. Thankfully, my part timers pay the bills while keeping me borerline insane. I've no reviews, but do suggest if you like boozin' some Tito's Vodka...try Western Son. It's better and will save you some $$. 

  6.10- This morning I awoke to a “Pick-Up” notification from my town’s library and thinking it had to be the Noir four DVD set I requested, made the short eight minute walk to retrieve the bounty. Upon arrival, I was surprised, and somewhat excited, to discover not only were the DVDs awaiting me but also the book Digging Up Mother by Doug Stanhope. I do not recall requesting a hold for the book, but since I recently completed a good read, I am open to something new for the eyeballs and dig Stanhope like a mother f’er.
A few hours later, I planted my overly pale arse on the front porch, cracked the book, and dove in like Jacques Cousteau into a large body of salt water.
  The weather is magnificent this afternoon and the sounds of a festival being held inside the nearby stadium is relaxing.
Around page ten, I noticed my neighbor back her silver car into her driveway. She and her man have lived across the street from me for years, but other than a friendly “hello” I’ve never spoken to either of them and I do not know their names. The house in which they live is a multi family and, honestly, a friggin dump. The slumlord doesn’t even have the lawn mowed over there. When I bought my house years ago, someone in that house overdosed and was taken away under a black blanket. The nameless couple moved in a short time later. I’ve never seen her up close, but she seems attractive enough and her body is pretty good. Her man is kind of an asshole and during the day walks with the assistance of a cane, but come nighttime the cane goes unused and he walks fine. For years neither of them worked and only walked around fetching huge cups of iced coffee and weekly jaunts to the town’s food pantry seizing four overly stuffed bags of nonperishable groceries. I’m guessing he’s on some sort of disability that somehow disappears come sunset. Do insurance fraud investigators not work night hours? As I do not know his history, I am nothing more than a judging fool. Anyway, they own a female pit bull (I’ve heard him call her “girl”) and this dog is the poster pup of ferocious mutts that stereotypes pit bulls. The dog is large and stocky and looks mighty strong. The leash used to walk this pooch is a heavy duty contraption with two thick and wide straps coming from both sides of the body harness. When I walk by the house, I often see and hear the threatening beast trying her best to smash through the window Cujo style in the hope of having a big hunk of Denis while barking bright white saliva all over the place. After several years, it appeared the woman started working and bought a car. He remained part of the town’s walking dead and often found himself in arguments with my other neighbors, although I’ve never exchanged words with him.
  After parking her car, she walked into the house and came out carrying a large cardboard box. She wasn’t struggling with the weight as much as the awkwardness of carrying a box that size. She walked to the rear passenger side, balanced the box on her knee, and using her free hand reached for the door handle. It was locked. She placed the box down and ran over to the driver’s seat to unlock all the doors. She continued bringing out boxes until her car was full and drove down the street.
  I haven’t see the man, or that hound, in some time and wonder if she’s quit him and moving out or maybe donating unwanted goods. Maybe he died. I don’t know. Perhaps I should return to the book and mind my own damn business.

  5.24- Well, I'll be dipped...a CD review.

  4.23- Gimme Danger is a must for fans of The Stooges. 

  4.2- While running today along my town’s main drag, I heard from behind me an incredibly loud noise; King Kong slamming two giant traffic barrels together like marching band cymbals. I turned around and saw two automobiles doing the post accident dance in the middle of the road highlighted with settling dust. Since I was standing in front of the fire station, I ran in alerting those sexy beefcakes to the accident and they were on the scene pronto. That noise though…it did not sound like a car crash. It sounded like a good time, kind of like how an unsuspected gunshot doesn’t sound like a gunshot, but instead fireworks (aka a good time). I imagine car crashes in the 40s, 50s, and 60s were more terrifying to the human ear.
  Reviews a'comin' soon. Been busy looking for a damn job. I am currently working two part timers I absolutley love, but niether pay the search continues.
  I love you all.

  2.10- Done watched a few documentaries over the past week…
  Danny Says (2015). 1hr 44m. Danny Fields is best known for being the manger of the Ramones for twenty plus years. However, as the doc brilliantly reveals, this f’n guy has had his hands in so much musical majesty it’s simply mind boggling. Lots of cool interviews, especially Iggy Pop, and various forms of music related footage. Most of Fields’ bands are right up my alley, which made the run time pass way too quickly. Would love to sit and talk with this guy! Got-dang I miss the Ramones!
  All Things Must Pass: The Rise and Fall of Tower Records (2015). 1hr 34 m. For the youngins, Tower Records was a massive record store chain and visiting their stores was an experience that could eat up an afternoon. I loved trekking into Boston to visit the three story Tower Records on the corner of Newbury St and Mass Ave. This documentary, per its title,  gives you all the gritty details from the very beginning to the end. Directed by Colin Hanks, the viewer really does fall knee deep into the world of Tower Records. When I was around 18-19, I met a woman who had me barking up her tree all day long. She mentioned to me she loved some Jazz musician whose name is long gone from my banks, but couldn’t find his latest album in the suburban record stores (way before the Internet). Since I knew I would be seeing her the following weekend with friends, I jumped the train one weekday after work and hit Tower. Bam! I scored the record, gave it to her, and basically never saw her again. Ah well, I tried!
  Dark Horse (2015). 1hr 23m. One day in a tiny UK town, a bunch of “common folk” decided to pool their funds and breed themselves a steeplechase race horse. Aptly named Dream Alliance, the horse is trained and dives head first into the majesty of the steeplechase circuit. The ups. The downs. The inspiration. They’re all captured in this very charming documentary that’ll have you thinking your part of the gang talking and drinking pints at the local tavern. Though I am a rabid fan of horse racing, I am not a fan of this steeplechase business because I feel it’s far too dangerous for the horses and jockeys. This aside, I really did enjoy this documentary.

2.1- As you certainly know, since I am your only concern in life, I love punk music and pinball...and you definitely read my previous post communicating my ideas for pinball machines, which included a Ramones machine. Recently someone read that post and alerted me to this very troubling pinball machine; Punk! Released by Gottlieb in 1982, this pinball is perhaps the douchiest pinball I’ve seen in my long and storied pinball career (biased, I am). The playfield is littered with partial band names “spray painted” on awfully designed faux brick pattern. I can make out what are a’supposed to be Ramones, The Clash, Bowie (I think), Talking Heads (I think), The Jam (I think...such a stupid idea) Siouxsie and The Banshees, Depeche Mode, Sex Pistols, Dead Boys, and possibly XTC. There are others I can not make out via the pictures. The cabinet’s sides depict the silhouette of a guitar player in perhaps the least punk pose ever in the history of guitars (looks like they had never seen Johnny Ramone play…again…biased, I am). I watched a You Tube video of the machine and the music reminds me of the theme song for the Square Pegs television show. Me thinks either designer Tom Szafransky (who designed two machines) didn’t know the difference between punk and new wave or Gottlieb did not desire a truly punk themed machine because punk was considered scary back then. I’ve never seen this machine, but my distaste for it will be put aside should our paths cross and I’ll give it a slam dance or two.

  1.28- People often ask me, “Denis, what pinball machine would you like to see if you could pick the theme?”
  1. Ramones, of course, is my first choice. I’m not sure what the rules would be, but who cares as long as the music is there. Maybe one aspect could be having to hit drop targets quickly and in order (like Johnny’s chords). The artwork would have to be hand drawn, similar to perhaps the cover of Road to Ruin.
  2. Archer is a slam dunk. The missions, characters, villains, and booze would make for a hilariously fun pinball. Now, this dude name Keith Elwin (pinball world champ several times over) and his brother were building their own private Archer pinball. Recently, Keith was hired by Stern, the world’s leader in pinball manufacturing, and all evidence of that Archer machine has been removed from Elwin’s social media. Speculation abound!
  3. My Name is Earl. Simple theme…complete Earl’s list while dodging Joy and other detractors while employing the help of the “good” characters. Add in all the white trash factors and you’ve one fun pinball. Also, the My Name is Earl soundtrack is amazing and if that could somehow be incorporated…doubtful, but still.
  4. Harry Potter. Personally, I would not be excited about this one, but due to the immense age spanning popularity of Harry Potter, a good Potter machine would do wonders for the industry.
  5. Now, for a pinball not requiring a license (aka an original idea)…the player would have to survive a night in a haunted bowling alley whose bartender loves to over pour while completing everything normally done in a bowling alley. Hitting the wrong target or not hitting a target in time will cause the flippers to act like those simulated drunk driving booths.  I’ve a million ideas for such this haunted bowling game.

1.20- 1950. D. Gottlieb & Co released Spot Bowler…the first pinball machine with bottom flippers pointing inward, a standard followed to this very day. Spot Bowler was designed by Wayne Neyens, who designed hundreds of pins many of which are considered classics. Last I heard, Mr. Neyes is alive and kicking at age 98. Bravo. Bravo! Now, as you all know, I love pinball and bowling and my birthday is but a few weeks away...get that hint. Get that hint!!


1.19- Released by Genco in 1948, Triple Action was the first pinball machine to feature two flippers at the bottom of the playfield. However, the flippers faced outward! Triple Action sold for $279.50…that’s $57,000,000 in today’s dollars.


1.18- The first pinball machine to feature electrical flippers (various mechanical flippers, swinging bats/golf clubs had been around for a while) is Gottlieb's Humpty Dumpty, released in 1947. The six flippers were placed on the outer edges of the playfield and knocked the ball toward the center of the machine. Yer welcome.


1.17- In the mid-nineties, when the pinball industry was foundering, Bally released Safe Cracker in the hopes of gaining some ground on their biggest rivals; arcade games that rewarded players with tickets to be exchanged for prizes (you know, 27k tickets for a bit size Jolly Rancher). Safe Cracker is smaller than the regular sized pinball machine, but is includes a pinball playfield as well as a board like game up top. Also, when certain achievements are met, players are rewarded with a token (would roll down the glass to the player) that could be used in various ways…free game, free drink, prize, etc. The game’s designer, Pat Lawlor, also designed The Addams Family, Twilight Zone, and Funhouse pins…which even non pinball fans seem to enjoy. Mr. Lawlor was recently pulled from semi retirement to design the soon to be released Dialed In, by Jersey Jack Pinball (Wizard of Oz, The Hobbit). Yer welcome.

  1.14- If you like drive-in schlocky sci-fi, then you must check out The Green Slime (1968). Directed by Kinji Fukasaku (Battle Royale movies, etc), the movie was shot in Japan by a Japanese crew and starred a bunch of whities. So much damn fun...and the creatures are a cross between Chet from Weird Science and Sigmund the Sea Monster! Great movie poster, as well.
  For Christmas 2015, I bought my Wee Lass a button/magnet machine. She designed and created a few things, but it has mostly sat there collecting dust. One boring weekend, I made a few buttons/magnets for myself and freinds (buttons using a Ralph Steadman horse drawing for our trip to the horse track in Saratoga Springs, NY). Since then, I have come up with several and started selling 'em on Etsy. You'll find Ramones, Asbury Park, NJ, Kiss pinball pop bumpers, and several made using ads clipped from a 1947 Life magazine! There are about 30 options...adding more every week. Check it out!

  1.9- I do not like the Eagles, but I really liked History of the Eagles (Netflix). I needed help falling asleep last night and it should have been an instant snooze, but three hours later I was still awake and floored by how much I enjoyed the story of the Eagles and the cool old footage shown. Of course, the documentary is stuffed with Eagles tunes, but the focal point of this doc is the band and the members. History of the Eagles, running time just under three hours, is broken into two parts; part one concerns the formation of the group until their break up in 1980. Part two covers the reunion in 1994. I loved the shyt ton of trash talk and absolutely hated the live shows when the band would all sit on stools near the front of the stage and perform their boring music. If I was forced to attend an Eagles show, I certainly would’ve welcomed a force fed bullet. I do appreciate and acknowledge the talent and musicianship; I simply do not like the tunes, which is not a prerequisite to finding History of the Eagles interesting and enjoyable. 
  In the mid-nineties, when the pinball industry was foundering, Bally released Safe Cracker in the hopes of gaining some ground on their biggest rivals; arcade games that rewarded players with tickets to be exchanged for prizes (you know, 27k tickets for a bit size Jolly Rancher). Safe Cracker is smaller than the regular sized pinball machine, but is includes a pinball playfield as well as a board like game up top. Also, when certain achievement are met, players are rewarded with a token (would roll down the glass to the player) that could be used in various ways…free game, free drink, prize, etc. The game’s designer, Pat Lawlor, also designed The Addams Family, Twilight Zone, and Funhouse pins…which even non pinball fans seem to enjoy. Mr. Lawlor was recently pulled from semi retirement to design the soon to be released Dialed In, by Jersey Jack Pinball (Wizard of Oz, The Hobbit). Yer welcome.

  12.31- 2017 marks the tenth anniversary of my first book, A Nobody’s Nothings. Although my poor editing is a tad embarrassing, I am still very proud of this book. Last night I was thinking how the book often sold to groups of people. When first published, I sold hundreds of A Nobody’s Nothings to college professors, where it was well received. It started with Harvard University and worked around from there. Then it entered the punk scene, which was not a surprise as I grew up in that very same scene. The book was not well received by my “fellow” punks, due in large part to punks being fairly judgmental. Ya they are. Then came the penitentiary scene and since prisoners only ask for freebies, blah. I’ll tell you, it was weird receiving eloquently hand written letters from murderers and rapists (I researched almost every letter). Along the way there have been, and still are, multiple requests from a certain country, which is most likely due to a locally penned review. Ireland was the first, England, Australia, Canada, Russia, and various one offs here and there. Still hoping for a New Zealand sale! The latest group? Cam girls. I have a friend who is a cam girl, but she says the sales have nothing to do with her. Although I am not into cam girls or online porn (hell, I wrote for an adult video magazine for years and was the guy who covered the stuff everyone else refused-hermaphrodites, smothering, etc- so I’ve seen it, already), this is certainly not a shabby group to have as readers. The next year is looking positive writing wise…cheers to the adventures that always piggyback the published word.
  Last Sunday I was doing some work outside when a car came to a sudden halt near the end of my driveway. I took notice then returned to work with my back toward the street. I could hear muffled yelling coming from within the car. I heard a car door slam, loudly slam. I turned and saw a man standing next to the car opening the door behind the driver side door. He then slammed the door and walked to the front of the car. He was angry.
  “I swearword hate you! You ignorant demeaning word used in anger against a promiscuous woman!” the man yelled while slamming his fist on the car’s hood.
  “I can not believe you! You swearword demeaning word used in anger against a promiscuous woman! I swearword hate you!” he yelled while walking down the street.
  Since I was next to my house, he quickly exited my view.
  A woman, who has to be the greatest beneficiary of the phrase “love is blind,” stepped out of the passenger side and walked around the car getting behind the wheel. She noticed me noticing her and gave me a dirty look. Without looking over her should, she pulled into traffic savagely cutting off a car and drove in the direction of the man.
  I walked into my front yard to witness any possible entertainment.
  The woman drove the car down the middle of the road toward the man, who jumped in front of the car. The car the woman cut off stopped behind them. Front row seats.
  The man yelled something and punched the car’s hood, again. He then tried to open the driver side door, which was obviously locked. He walked over to the passenger side and tried that door. No go. The woman drove off as the guy punched the side panels and windows yelling, “Get out of my car!”
  I noticed both were wearing New England Patriots sweatshirts. I wonder if they had planned a fun day of football viewing (the Pats were playing a game later in the day) while imbibing liquor and ingesting food that makes your heart go boom…until something went horribly wrong.

  12.26- Don’t know about you, man, but I thought it was pretty cool when The Fonz jumped the shark.

  12.23- Merry Christmas. Happy Holidays. That is all.

  12.2- Uncle Nick (Netflix streaming…ah crap. Be right back. Have to pee now) stars Brian Posehn (I bet it’s great being this dude’s friend as he seems like a nice guy) as an aging fella’ spending Christmas Eve at his douchebag brother’s house. Taking place in Cleveland, the movie’s deteriorating plot runs along side of the infamous June 4, 1974 baseball game at Municipal Stadium (Indians)…when unlimited beers were sold for ten cents a pop, up to six at a time, for the entire game and where things got uglier (aka fun) with every passing inning. great would that have been? There was even a little history leading up to this game that only helped ensure nuttiness as the game and beers progressed. Uncle Nick is low budget and has more than enough funny, silly, emotional moments to keep yer arse entertained. Cleveland takes a beating (obviously completed before the Cavaliers’ title and Indians World Series appearance), but they are use to it and can withstand the flying fists. For the record, I visited Cleveland about three years ago and absolutely without a doubt loved it and had so much damn fun. I had hoped to return a few months back, but things fell through. I can not wait to visit, again. Uncle Nick is not yer typical holiday feel good movie…thank fyck!

  11.18- A few weeks back, I completed the entire run Wanted: Dead or Alive (1958-61, 94 episodes) starring Steve McQueen. Seasons one and two are great. However, season three brought in a little too much comedy (silly Brady Bunch like soundtrack at times, too) which kind of ruined the gritty bounty hunter/Western feel. Also, McQueen mumbles almost every single word he speaks and litters it with a questioning, “Uh?” I am not sure if this was demanded by the show’s producers or if McQueen was looking beyond tv to the big screen. Season three is a disappointment, but there are several good episodes, with perhaps the series finale (great seaside location shooting) being the best. Recently I started The Rebel (59-61. Starring Nick Adams, who died of an accidental drug overdose, or suicide, at age 36 in 1968). Some of the dozen or so episodes I’ve viewed deal with mental illness brought on my war torture (James Best did an admirable job with this) and other traumatic events.
  I love you all.

  11.11- I’ve a nonfiction piece, The Beautiful Dents (concerns a handful of horror movies that left an impact on me), in Divine Exploitation #9. They cover the whacky/bizarre/nutty films of cinema greatness. So great to be a part of it!

  10.21- The Heavenly Table by Donald Ray Pollock is a great read. Give it, and his two others, a go and you'll be entertained and happy.
  Boston band music review.
  Now...this weekend you will wash down a few zzzQuil pills with an enery drink and report to me what happens.

  10.7- Review of a five DVD box set. Hamer Horror stuff! I could not get the DVD cover to properly work and it started to piss me off...and since it's Friday, who has time for such irritation? 

  9.26- I won a prize.

  9.16- Book review...then enjoy the damn weekend.

9.12-Pay no attention to that top dog, though it was delicious! I love red pepper relish (my Grandpops turned me onto it many moons past), but stopped buying it years ago because everyone put high fructose corn syrup in it and I’ve banished that stuff from my life. I recently came across Rhode Island Red Relish at my local grocery and noticed the lack of HFCS, so I excitedly bought it. Though a tad expensive, $5 for 7.5 oz, this stuff is damn tasty. Damn tasty! The sweetness of the peppers stands tall with a bit of cider vinegar adding some balance and mustard seeds bringing some zip to those peppers. Now, get yerself a quality dog, cut some Ws half way into that dog from end to end (the Ws will give you more grillin’ taste and offer great footholds for whatever condiments you use), and give it a good cooking on the grill. Now, get that dog and stuff it (the dog will curl while grilling), Ws up, into a buttered/slightly toasted bun and have at it. The red relish will help that charred dog scream. There’s  also a good back story to this stuff. Check ‘em out; The Backyard Food Company


  9.9- Still kicking. The job market suuuuuuuucks, but it was/is one hell of a summer. So much damn fun. I hope to have a movie, book, and music review up next week. Until then...booze.

Flaming Pig Spiced Irish Whisky. Malones Whiskey Company, Dublin, Ireland. 66.6 proof (ahhhh…devil! Satan!). The spice comes via cinnamon, black pepper, and cloves. Not sure if it’s fair to call this stuff cinnamon whisky, but it tastes like it. However, Flaming Pig is got-dang smooth! Other cinnamon whisky brands must be shot down yer throat, but this stuff can be sipped. The spice is there and it’s damn tasty. The heat hits in the belly. Very good stuff. I rarely impulse purchase and I’m glad I strayed off my beaten path, this time.

  7.15- The ol' bump in the road...on July 6, I was laid of from my full time job of 17 years. It was rather shocking, but not a surprise. So if'n hiring, hit me! Since I am busy dealing with all the ker-rap that comes with suddenly losing your main source of income, things here may be slow...or maybe not. I don't know as I've never faced this jerkbag situation that millions face every year. 
  Now would be a great time to purchase my books...
  If'n looking for something to do tomorrow, hit The Midway in Jamaica Plain, MA and take in a punk show: 4-8. Lipstick Boys - 4:30, Low Babies - 5:15
Girth Control - 6:00, Jonee Earthquake Band - 6:45, Kermit's Finger 7:30.
  Also in Jamaica Plain, tonight...The Manglers play The Jeanie Johnston Pub. The Manglers are one damn amazing cover band who play mostly old school punk from the 70s. Trust me, they are damn good.
   Your weekend is now planned. Go find something on yer own to do Sunday. 
  I recently rewatched the great fun-n-grimy Street Trash (1987). Because I still enjoy the hell out of this movie, I purchased (when I was not an unempoyed bum) the Blu-Ray and will soon review the disc and all the extras, which seems damn cool.
  May your weekend be a fine weekend.

  6.17- Holy crap, a music review!
  It's the weekend. As long as it doesn't involve hurting others, do what it is that puts a smile on yer face. Smiles are good. Happy faces are good. Weekends are good. 

6.14- Baron Samedi Spiced Rum. I bought this bottle based only on its label. Fortunately, this spiced rum is not only 90 proof…and it’s damn good, out of Haiti (bottled in KY), and did I mention the label? The sniff is all vanilla (honestly, who cares? It’s not a fine wine and that sniff would not matter to me anyway) and the taste is smooth with a bit of cinnamon kick finished off with that vanilla. This Voodoo child may’ve pushed the Captain to number three.

  6.7- If you are a follower of our Bone Print Press Facebook/Twitter pages, you would've known about our fried laptop harddrive and lost data. Well, a new machine has been procured and I've restored most of what was lost. So, here we go again.
  As some of youses may know, I attended the CJ Ramone show Sunday night just outside of Boston, MA. A damn good time! However, the floor in front of the stage was fly paper. Not an exaggeration. I swear that area hasn’t seen a wet mop since Jimmy Carter sat in the oval office. Hmmm…come to think of it, I walked this very same floor a few months ago while browsing the punk rock flea market with my daughter and the floor was fine. So fyck Jimmy Carter and his oval office. At one point during the show, I jumped up-in musical exuberance-and my left shoe stuck to the floor and remained stationary. I defecate you unpositive. Thankfully, my left socked foot came back down on top of my shoe and did not touch the sticky floor.
  The show itself was amazing! The set is made up of Ramones covers, CJ originals, and two covers (Beach Boys and Motorhead's "Ramones"). Twas such a great time.
  Over the weekend, I also saw a screening of Raiders of the Lost Ark with the Boston Pops playing the soundtrack live (Symphony Hall Boston, MA). This was another great time. If you get the chance to take this in, do so. I know they are doing this again later this summer at the Tanglewood location (western MA) and maybe other orchestras are doing the same.

  4.22- Quick shot book review. Cocktail Noir: From Gangsters and Gin Joints to Gumshoes and Gimlets Perfect Paperback by Scott Deitche.
I really dug the first half of this book as it covers booze relations in noir movies, books, and those who wrote ‘em. The second half, which I did not enjoy as much, concerns what real life gangsters drank and where and how some made their money from booze. Loaded with great drink recipes.
  Have a cocktail and enjoy the weekend.

  4.1- Today, while supporting a local convenience store I found myself in a line two customers deep. A short stocky man was up front and I was number two. The man in front of me was purchasing several lottery plays. However, since he was throwing out formula like requests – as if scientifically debunking the theory of relativity - the girl running the cash register/lottery machine was having a bit of difficulty. It also didn’t help how the guy was making his requests; rambling on and on without allowing the girl a second to press the buttons. I swear, it was like this guy was speaking an alien language not even C-3PO would understand. Seven minutes later, at last his order was complete; several daily numbers and several scratchers. The total came to $38. Before departing the counter, he asked to borrow a penny from the “take a penny leave a penny” dish to scratch that itchy scratcher. He walked away with the penny and I paid for my stupid water and walked out of the store. While walking home, I obsessed if the lottery scientist returned the penny. After all, he did ask to “borrow” that penny. Moral of this story…mind yer own damn business and your brain won’t be cluttered with useless thoughts that mean absolutely zero to you.
  Last Saturday: Awoke this morning and decided to drive up to Pelham, NH (just over the MA/NH border) to play some pinball. I arrived at Pinball Wizard arcade at around 1:30 and played until 3 or so. I then ventured out for a drink and lunch. I found a small hole in the wall called Maguire's Tavern (Dracut, MA) maybe two miles from the arcade. I enter the joint and see maybe ten people sitting at tables and five at the bar. I plant it at the bar and wait maybe 10 minutes for the barkeep. No biggie. She finally arrives, looks at me, and goes to a table. She returns to the bar, writes out a check, and drops it at a table. She returns, looks right at me, and refills a woman’s wine glass. She looks at me again and I give her a polite smile and slight wave to get her attention. She turns and plays a lottery ticket. She turns and looks at me again and walks away. I get up and say, “Fuuuuck this place” and walk out. I return to arcade and hit the sub/pizza place next door. I order a turkey with tomatoes and mustard. I eat in my car and must deal with the gallon of mustard the ass put on the sub. What the hell? I play pinball until 7 or so. Now, Pelham is about 55 miles from my house. I get on Interstate 93 south heading toward Boston. Ten miles in, I hear that dreaded FLUB FLUB FLUB. A flat tire. Luckily, there is a turn off area lickity split. Though a pain, I was not concerned because I am always ready for an emergency. I get out my spare and begin the change. Nope. One luggie was on so tightly it would not come off and it started to break my tire iron (cheap piece of crap that came with the car). No problem. I have a can of tire inflate/sealer. Nope. The stuff would not come out of the can. As I tried the can again, a motorcycle pulled over and a guy named Tristan, maybe 20-25, did everything he could to assist me. He offered to get a real tire iron. My phone was dying. I called my brother to alert him I may need his help, but he was even farther away in Plymouth. I call Triple A, get a membership, and await roadside assistance. Ten minutes later, a State Trooper pulls in behind me with flashing blues. We talk a bit and he’s a really nice guy. He takes off after running my plate and making sure I’m ok. Ten minutes later, a Jeep pulls in behind me and out jumps Tristan! I check him for wings because it is clear to me Tristan in my guardian angel. He produces a real tire iron and five minutes later I am on my slow journey home. Now, ya’ll done bes’ check what type of tire iron is in yo’ trunk and get a good one if needed.

  3.30- A DVD review.

  3.18- The weekend has called and I have answered.

  3.10- If'n like Hank 3...check out Honky Tonk Hustlas. Hillbilly guitar, upright bass, fiddle, and lyrics of livin', lovin', and drinkin'.
  If'n like Boston punk (or punk in general)....check out The Black Cheers. Great punk sound with some ol' garage noise (purage). "Inside Out" is so quick, you hear it before it begins! F'n love this song.
  If'n like Charles Bukowski and vinyl...check out Charles Bukowski Reads His Poetry LP (approx 41 minutes). Great sounding September 14, 1972 reading. Chances are you've read/heard this stuff, but who hell cares? So drop that needle while reaching for a bottle of wine and have a listen while the punched out cigarettes smolder in an ashtray three days late for an emptying. 
  If’n like film noir…check out The Hitch-Hiker (1953). Considered the only true noir to be directed by a woman, Ida Lupino. It is good, has grit, and I swear I could see and feel the fingerprint of a woman. Although, I must admit I’m not a fan of the ending. The print I watched was choppy and damaged, which added to my damn good time.
  If'n like weekends...then piss off and get on it, already! What the shyt?! 

  3.3- Although I do not bring it up much here, I absolutely love everything there is concerning pinball machines. And here is what may be my first pinabll post/link: An amazing look at the manufacturing of The Big Lebowski pinball machine; pictures, videos, and damn fine information. I really can not wait for this bah-sterd to be finally available.

  2.27- Brain Scribbles…Being a fella’ who tends to look on the bright side of thangs, I see two positives should Trump be elected president. 1) HRC will not be president. 2) witnessing every single liberal and some conservatives lose their f’in minds every single day for at least four years is a dream come true for me. Silver linings… Being an unenrolled voter I am not a slave to any single political party. Come primary time, I can pick and choose which party to vote. As the MA primary approaches, I once again find myself voting against someone rather than voting for someone…I once read washing your hair with urine is a good thing, but got-dang doing a handstand in the shower is hard as shyt…Montreal Steak seasoning by McCormick is a damn fine steak seasoning. One of the best…If’n enjoy the works of Hunter S. Thompson, check out Ralph Steadman’s 2006 book, Joke’s Over. In it Mr. Steadman (illustrator for many of Thompson’s stories, offers his point of view concerning his adventures with Mr. Thompson. Boy, Hunter seemed like one giant pain in the arse, but a damn fun time to be around (if you don’t mind being maced)…Time for me to git my Satterday night going. Go scribble yer own brain…

  2.19- I like Johnny Thunders. A lot. If you feel the same and have not yet picked it up, Heartreakers Live at Max's Kansas City is damn good. Great music. Great sound. Some sloppiness as one would expect. 
  Now, enjoy the weekend. Fuck all know I will.

1.15- I wrote this book review some time ago, but since the event took place on Jan 15, it is again.
  Shiner Bock. Spoetzl Brewery. 4.4% ABV. While walking around masturbating in my favorite liquor store the other night, I happened upon this brew and thought to myself, “Hey dope, you’ve been hearing about this beer forever but never tried it. Don’t be a douche a give to a shot.” I was right, I have been hearing about Shiner Bock forever and often see it listed on people’s favorite beer lists (Internet stuff). And here we are. I know nothing about this beer and was surprised with its dark color and frothy head, which did fizzle quickly. The nostril sniff is hoppy, but not tough like an IPA. The taste is a bit heavier than your typical larger and what first entered my mind was this would be great on a summer’s day when I wanted something meatier than, say, Budweiser/PBR/’Gansett but lighter than an IPA or some other overly crafted beer. You will not be overwhelmed by any one flavor, but Shiner’s is crisp and very drinkable with a slight hop kick.  Would pair wonderfully with a few Chicago hot dogs! Damn…

  12.24- In my younger more ambitious days, during the day I busted my arse working construction and by night/weekend I sold uniforms to various places. My largest account was the now defunct Wonderland Dog Track just outside of Boston. I landed the account while with a bachelor party, oddly enough. Anywho, the guy in charge of the dining room who ok’ed all the junk I sold for the waiters, waitresses, barkeeps, cooks, and betting tellers was this stereotypical looking Italian mob guy you’d swear was the model for Boardwalk Empire. He was somewhat younger, somewhat overweight, and somewhat balding. I met with him about a dozen times, but he never spoke a word to me. He only shook his head yes or no while stuffing his face with food. And when I say stuffing his face, he truly shoveled in the food into his trap forcing his cheeks to puff outward. He also chewed with his mouth so open I swear a few airplanes bound for Logan Airport flew and disappeared into the massive sinkhole. A few times, after shaking hands to seal the deal, he would throw $50 on the table and slide it over to me. The first time he did this I had no idea what was happening, until the waitress who introduced us said, “Get a drink and make a few bets on the house.” The stereotype was real, he made me a lot of money, and I never had to swim with fishes.
  And here's a DVD review.

12.22-Bad Mother Shucker Oyster Stout. Abita Brewing Company. 8% ABV. Out from the oyster beds of Louisiana comes the mighty Bad Mother Shucker Oyster Stout! Color is a very deep brown with hints of red and a strong head reminiscent of a Guinness sans that extra creamy texture, but close. The sniff is strong with chocolate, coffee (though there’s no coffee in the recipe) and caramel. After the sniff I was expecting a powerful stout and felt a tad worrisome. However, Bad Mother Shucker is surprisingly easy to drain due to the not too sweet chocolate/caramel sweetness. Any aftertaste, as found in most stouts, is erased by the very light sea salt slap thanks to the oysters, which are added to the boil near the end of the process. Fear not, there is no oyster taste or sliminess. This is my second oyster stout (first taste being approx five years ago; Harpoon’s limited brew 100 Barrel Island Creek Oyster Stout) and it’s safe to admit…I’m liking the oyster stouts. I don’t know shyt about beer/food pairing, but I’d wager BMSOS would go swimmingly with a nice fat grilled medium rare burger with smoked gouda, ‘shrooms, and bacon on a pretzel roll. Yes. Now! 

12.14- Jack D’Or. Pretty Things Beer and Ale Project. 6.5% abv. Because Pretty Things made a big splash (with Jack D’Or being its cannonball) in the Boston area craft beer scene a few years ago, I’ve long heard of this Jack D’Or. However, I never considered it until a few weeks ago when Pretty Things announced they were ceasing operations. Because of this, my friend Ilan asked me if I happen to see bottles of Jack D’Or to pick some up for him since they’ll soon be bye-bye due to drunkard hoarding. I found a stash and picked up some bottles. Four (6-2) for Ilan and one (2-1) for me. The pour is a nice one; cloudy with a marshmallowie head. The first few pulls read like this: hops-citrus-hops-dry. However, since there is no citrus, the slight sting must be rye. The hops are upfront and on the gulp, but are not overwhelming. Honestly, I was not terribly impressed with Jack at first, but as the glass emptied down the hatch, the fycker grew on me. I may return to that store and pick up a few more bottles…

  11.27- Bobcat Goldthwait’s documentary, Call Me Lucky, focuses on legendary standup comedian Barry Crimmins…and is great. 
 It’s been a while since my last DVD review. This streak ends now.
 Piss off, now. 

  11.20- Long time Askew Reviews contributor Douglas Waltz has reviewed a DVD on his own site…a DVD I hope to obtain soon.
  Hockey fans will dig The Last Gladiators (2011), which streams via Netflix. This fine documentary focuses mainly on retired Montreal Canadian enforcer, and Boston born, Chris “Knuckles” Nilan.
  Stand-up comedy fans…check out Pete Correale’s new 60 minutes “Let Me Tell Ya.” I love this guys work. Also, you’ll die laughing during Brad Williams “Fun Size.” Two funny muddas, right here.
  Denis needs booze, so buy'yer arse my books...
  Now, git out thar and enjoy the weekend because next weekend most of us will be twelve pounds heavier and want to punch our family members…cheers!

  11.13- Halfway through Punk Rock Blitzkrieg; My life as a Ramone by Marky Ramone and it's damn good. Who knew that guy was the drummer for so many influential punk bands? Damn...
  When I was in 5th, 6th, or 7th grade I won a contest (selling magazine subscriptions for my school or some shyt) and landed my arse what I thought was a cool Kiss poster. Turns out I actually won a Kiss t-shirt iron on transfer. However, it was a damn cool Kiss t-shirt iron on transfer. Though, not as cool as the Kiss poster. One day my Mom ironed the Kiss t-shirt iron on transfer onto a white t-shirt and not only was I now a Knight in Service of Satan (that’s what Kiss stood for according to my older cousin Bernie…who also told me if I sneeze with both eyes open I’d die), but I achieved the Knight in Service of Satan status thanks to the parochial I attended! A Catholic school turned out a Knight of Satan ready to service (f’off pervs)! That day I was Paul Stanley, Gene Simmons, Peter Criss…but I was really Ace Frehley because Ace Frehley was the man. With rock-n-roll-a-blazin’ on my chicken chest I ruled the world, until I got tired, undressed, and went to bed. A few days later, my mom washed the shirt and the mighty Kiss t-shirt iron on transfer disintegrated in the washer or dryer vanishing into the septic tank or lint filter. And I was no longer a Knight in Service of Satan, although I did try to become a member of the Kiss Army but failed when my Mom said no.

Ok, I’ve found a dangerous workaround concerning my laptop issues, so hopefully these updates will be a lil’ more frequent.
Yesterday I walked to a nearby convenience store to purchase a lime. Upon arrival, I grabbed the handle to open the door and noticed a woman climbing out of her automobile. I decided to be a gentleman and hold the door open for her. Then she decided to reach back into her car for something. Then while walking the six feet from the car to the open door she stopped and picked something up off the asphalt. I quickly realized this was turning from a polite gesture on my part to a whole fycking thing. At last she passed me by through the open door into the store…without uttering a word to me. Hey, fine. I did it to feel good about doing a good deed for a fellow human and not the feeling of being thanked. I entered the store to find a lime and she obviously ventured off to buy a new personality. Soon, I approached one yawning cashier while the woman was finishing up with the other. I paid for the lime and walked toward the door. The woman was five steps in front me. She exited the store and let the door close (“slam” would be more dramatic, but store doors rarely slam thanks to that pressure arm up top) in my face.
  Commodore Perry IPA (7.7% Alc/Vol.
Great Lakes Brewing, Cleveland, OH). Wow. This is one dry IPA. T’wasn’t expecting this, indeed. The hops hit hard right off the bat, but quickly dissipate with the dryness taking over in the mouth. IPA fans will dig this. Also, it’s a damn fine looking beer sitting in that glass. Striking.
  And here's a CD review.

  8.31- Ayup...we are still here. Just those damn comptuer issues...and it's been one hell of a summer of greatness.I am looking to resolving my machine problems, but who knows how long it'll take. 
  Here's some words:
  I walked uptown to that crappy bar to play some pinball. When I arrived, I strolled up to the bar and waited for the bartender. While waiting, she took forever (I think she’s new to the joint), I watched next to me as two women, guessing early 30s, talked with a very inebriated and weathered looking man (guessing 40s). The women were being very friendly and touching the man’s hair while discussing how his haircut looked silly. Soon, the man made his move and sat on the stool with one of the women (the less attractive one, in my opinion). The women instantly turned everything off and simply ignored the man. They did not ask him to get up or stop, but ignored his every word. After a few minutes, I saw an absolute look of defeat on his face. He stood up and walked away. Yes, the guy made all the wrong moves…and this is coming from a guy who can’t pick up a “lady of the night” with a fistful of Bennies in the poorest part of town. However, I still felt bad for him. The look he gave when he realized neither woman was interested was one of devastation and deep loneliness. I am not implying the women should have placated him and he did make that fatal error of invading personal space, but I could tell this-to him-was more than being turned down by someone. At last, the barkeep handed me my beer and off to the pinball I went. While playing, with one broken flipper (!), I noticed the women walk by me toward the rear entrance. Five minutes later I exited the establishment via the front door and saw the man sitting on the steps with a smoke in one hand and his forehead in the other.
  Thomas Jefferson’s Tavern Ale (Yards Brewing Company. Philly). ABV 8%. Based on Jefferson’s recipe. Somewhat sweet with a kick of rye at the end. Think of a really good IPA without the bitterness. The first time I enjoyed this fine ale was at Asbury Festhalle & Biergarten in Asbury Park, NJ and made sure to pick up a few sixers before returning home, as it is not sold in MA. Although damn tasty, definitely not a beer to be consumed in large quantities in one sitting, but is perfect with a meal; a fat steak or giant plate of raw oysters. Holy crap! Very smooth for an 8%er. Odd, I now feel like getting a Black chick into a pretzel.
  Rye of the Tiger IPA (7.5% Alc/Vol. Great Lakes Brewing, Cleveland, OH). Yowza. This IPA is…ummm…think tiger…this IPA is ferocious. Yes, ferocious. This stuff bites and claws you the second it passes your lips and finds home in yer big fat beer belly. I like the bitterness of IPA and I love my rye, but this may be hard to get use to. Not for the weak.

6.10- Well alls y'alls...looks like Bone Print Press and Askew Reviews has run into website issue thanks to Microsoft thinking having software suddenly not work on an OS/laptop it's worked on for a year is a good idea. So, I must transfer files to an ol' machine, which takes forever to boot up. I am working to have this pain in the arse resolved. 

  The other day, , I took a step back in time. While buying my daughter some “FroYo” I noticed a shoe repair shop and decided to take in my favorite pair of shoes, which I had placed in the trunk of my car for such an occasion. A result of my stupid gait, these wonderful shoes (no longer manufactured and impossible to find) became unwearable about two years ago due to the outside of the heels becoming so worn they caused my ankles to constantly turn. We walked into the shop and was thrown into a scene out of some 50s detective film. The machinery looked to be steam punk era with pieces of leather and rubber strewn about. To the right sat two venerated ancient shoe shining chairs surrounded with olde tyme shoe shine gear and accessories. Shelving wrapped both sides of the shop stocked with shoes awaiting repair or pickup. Behind the counter off to the side sat two elderly men playing some kind of dice game while ignoring a 70s television set (Wee Lass labeled it a “dinosaur”) playing static filled content. The shop keep, a thin elderly man sans an ounce of fat wearing a leather apron, slowly walked toward us from an open back door speaking on a dirty telephone in a foreign language. I’m guessing Italian, but he spoke too softly to clearly hear. He smiled at us and held up his hand as if requesting a moment. Even thought the man was small, his hands looked like they could crush boulders. For a brief moment I became somewhat intimidated fearing should I step out of the line, the men would drag me out back and work me over saying, “Now look here. You tell any of this to them coppers and we’ll make sure the grocer sells you only spoiled apples, you see?”
  Before finishing his call, he looked at my shoes twisting them about.
  He hung up the phone and asked, “New heels?”
  “Yes. Can you fix them?”
  “It will be tough. Twenty five dollars. Pay now and come back in a few days.”
  I handed him the money and he handed me the pictured receipt. He put the other half of the receipt in one of the shoes and placed them off to the side.

Today is one hell of a beautiful day here on the South Shore of Massachusetts. At approx 11am, I went for a walk to the library to return a DVD (Match Point. Pointless movie) and to pick up a DVD (To Kill a Mockingbird. I love this movie/book. This DVD is for my daughter who just finished reading the book for school). As I walked up Union St to the library and passing the liquor store, I saw a man about the age of 50-55 get out of his car and yell “For Christ’s sake!” as he opened his phone.
  “Hi honey, what’s up?”
  “I know! I’m at the unemployment office now. Let me call you back.”
  He closed his phone and walked into the liquor store.
  Two minutes later as I walked in front of the fire department, the Lt Chief waited for me to pass before backing the official fire dept car out into the street. This guy is hardcore fire department brotherhood and a really nice guy. A few years ago he told me the story about a few Rockland firefighters losing their lives battling a theater fire in the 40s. He cried while telling the story.
  When I returned home, I realized I forgot to mail my Netflix DVD (The Tunnel. Think Blair Witch Project with perhaps the lamest ending…especially since the ending was nicely built up one minute into the movie). Darn! I did some work and headed back out to the post office.
As I walked up Union St, the Lt Chief jogged across the street toward me (he had parked the official fire dept car across the street and was walking to a sub/pizza shop). We exchanged pleasantries and went our separate ways.
  I began to wonder. Here it is in the middle of the day and the Lt Chief saw me twice carrying various DVDs wondering about town. I wonder if he thought me to be a nonworking bum sucking off the state and taxpayers like so many others. Like so many others.

  4.12- Thoughts and opinions from yesterday’s WhiskyFest: Whistle Pig continues to be my favorite high priced rye whisky. When it comes to lower priced rye you can not beat Wild Turkey (who was not part of the fest, sadly) with Bulleit Rye filling out the medium price range. Honey whisky…Bushmills, of course, is amazing but Jesse James (the singer for Jackyl) Honey is really good and not overly sweet. This bottle was the surprise of the fest for me and the price is ridiculously low. When it comes to “fire” or cinnamon whiskey, you must try Jack Daniels Fire, and this is coming from a guy who loathes Jack Daniels. This stuff is smooth and tastes like those candy Fireballs. You’ll never taste a smokier whisky than High West Campfire, whose name fits itself to a got-dang t. Bird Dog Chocolate is dangerously tasty in a Tootsie Roll kind of way. Duke (as in John Wayne) bourbon is damn fine and has some very cool history to it. The locally to Boston distilled Bully Boy White Whisky is remarkably mellow for a non aged spirit and could nicely replace vodka in the beloved Bloody Mary. Cabin Fever maple flavored whisky is best chilled and will have you thinking yer drinking breakfast. The inventor of this stuff was also the presenter and ‘twas one nice and interesting fella. Last….I hate scotch.

  3.19- Since laddyhood I’ve loved Iron Maiden’s mascot Eddie (pictured) which led me to, after spotting it on the shelf and surviving a long audible gasp that made me light headed, purchasing Trooper beer. Created by Iron Maiden and brewed by Robinsons Brewery (UK), Trooper (4.7% ABV) is a deep golden ale that teases you with citric notes up front which quickly transforms into a light hoppy hit. The hops will not have you thinking you’re knucklin’ back an IPA style beer. Instead, it’s just enough to keep you on your toes. Honestly, I tend to dislike citrus flavors in my beer, but the notes experienced here are subtle and certainly not overwhelming. Great front labels! The back label includes a little history behind the Iron Maiden song, The Trooper. Good stuff! (added 3.20: I want to get the labels off the bottle for an Iron Maidenhead friend and tried the soaking method. Fail. I check the Internet…sometimes nuking the bottle loosens the glue, so I gave it a shot. Little did I know the labels are foil. It looked and sounded like Reese from The Terminator was visiting from the future and landed in my microwave. Holy! )

Many a full moon ago, I interviewed a very attractive woman. During the interview it became known that we, including her boyfriend, were going to see the same band in just a few hours. Since I had taken the train into Boston, she offered to give me a ride to the show. After completing the interview, we walked to her car, a small two door jobber, and I jumped in the back seat. The boyfriend sat in the passenger seat and she drove. Driving down Mass Ave, I noticed a pair of tiny thong panties resting on the seat next to me. Now, I am not and never have been one of those fellas who get all jazzed over women’s undergarments. Sure, I can appreciate the hell out of a beautiful, sexy woman making a nice pair of panties look good, but I’d never steal a pair and wear ‘em over my head while showering. However, after noticing the panties I became savagely nervous. Not because of anything sexual. Instead I felt nervous that she or her man might feel uncomfortable if they knew I had seen the panties. There was a sweatshirt placed on the other side of the panties I could’ve pulled over to cover the anxiety causing things or with a quick brush of my hand, there was also the floor. However, since we were driving on a busy street and often stopped at traffic lights, they constantly turned to look at me as we talked (polite people they were) and I did not want to be caught doing anything even close to the panties. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. About twenty minutes and a few miles later, we (the humans, not panties) jumped out of the car and went to the show. I often wonder if any pedestrians also noticed the panties through the parked car’s window because in the end, I left them exactly where I found them.

With that…I’ll leave you with my favorite quote that was hurled at my cousin and I after we unsuccessfully tried to cut off a carload of black women while “quickly” driving to see a Boston Bruins game, “Fuckin’ whitie!”

  2.19- If'n care, please note Bone Print Press/Askew Reviews new mailing address:
159 Reed St., Rockland, MA 02370. Thanks.

  1.30- Ya’ll. I’ve a guest post over there; Swan Snatch Love (it's a fitness site) concerning my forray into the world of the Insanity workout. Check it out and leave a comment making fun of me. Also, those images are not of me. The women who run the blog wanted nothing to do with the naked pix I submitted…
  The Fall. Slowest moving show that kept my interest throughout its run (11 episodes). However, once again a good show ends with a “Blah.”

  Is it me or was there some savage sexual tension between Mr. Brady and Mr. Hinton in that famed episode of The Brady Bunch?
Just saw a Viagra commercial and “flushing” is listed as a side effect. My, what a terrible waste of water!
Most ice cubes, by definition, are not true cubes at all!
  Do you suppose paranoid people remain silent when ears of corn are nearby?

  I very highly doubt music would be as popular as it is if it smelled like boiled cabbage.
  The weekend is yours.
Enjoy it like it's your last meal on death row.

  12.26- Major Announcement. Starting January 2, 2015, and for the first time since high school, I will resume the act of returning high fives….MORE… Guidelines will stipulate these high fives*: I will never initiate. I must know and like you to return a high five making most family and friends eligible. There must be a valid reason for the high five (high fiving for the sake of the high five will not occur). No both hands at the same time high fives…MORE…I will high five throughout 2015 and reassess January 1, 2016.
*I reserve the right to alter or add rules at any time.

  12.2- And here's a look at a review zine.

  11.15- Writing and posting a CD review on a Saturday night. That should tell you how my night is going...

  9.19- Ever notice, in Westerns, there’s always a handy bucket of water to douse awake one fallen by the mighty fist? On that note…High Noon (1952) is a great “real time” Western. And it’s not even a shoot ‘em up kind of Western. Great direction and cinematography. Stars Gary Cooper, Grace Kelly, Lon Chaney (such a soothing voice), Lee Van Cleef (great villain face), Lloyd Bridges, etc. Ya, and don’t watch the trailer…kind of a major spoiler in of itself.
  And here's a DVD review.

  9.2- Recently watched two race horse related DVDs. Fellow track fans may enjoy...

Ruffian: 2007. ESPN production. Follows the happenings of Ruffian, who was rather popular back in the  mid 70s. Note: if you do not know about this horse, I suggest you do NO research on her and just watch the movie.

Thoroughbred: PBS production. Documentary. Basically shows you the life of a thoroughbred from birth to the Kentucky Derby. Breeding, auction,
training, barn life, etc. There are a few slow parts, but over all very informative. Also, if you watched the tv series Jockeys, there is some cross over with the 2009 Kentucky Derby. 

When I was 11-12, I lived in Hanson, MA but attended a school in Rockland, MA. Because of this, I had zero friends in my home town and come summer time, I spent most of the time alone. One weekend, my aunt offered to take me with her and my cousins to spend a night on Cape Cod. Her husband, my uncle, had family down there and that’s who we visited and where we stayed, in Buzzard’s Bay, I think. On Saturday night, I went out with my cousin Kenny, his cousin Joe (?), and a few of Joe’s female friends. One of these girls was a chick named Danielle, who was visiting from California. All of these people were at least two years older than me. Sans adult supervision, we saw a movie, got ice cream, and just hung out like the cool kids in movies. You know, leaning on cars and stuff. Being a friendless scardy cat nervous twit, I was in heaven actually hanging out with kids…kids older than me! Of course, I became smitten with Danielle. In fact, the love bug chomped me the second I saw her and I told Kenny of my feelings. Because it was my nature, I did not say much and stayed pretty quiet the entire night, but was having a damn good time. At some point near the end of the night, someone asked if I was ok. Before I could answer, Ken said, “He’s just dealing with his crush on Danielle.”
“Ewwwwwwwww,” shrieked Danielle before the last syllable left Kenny’s mouth.
I was instantly horrified, but not so much due to Danielle’s disapproval of my crush, but more because now she actually knew of the crush!
I do not recall anything that happened after this point, until later that night when I was awakened from a sound sleep by my younger cousin, Keith, throwing up in the bath tub. Although, to this day, I am not sure if this part was a dream or reality.

  8.1- CD review (Boston bnad) written under the influence. 

  7.3- Despite unchecked inflation and downright oppressive taxation, the drunken masses are trending toward the more expensively priced craft beer (you know, Blue Moon and Shocktop…ha! I just pissed off some people) and premium spirits. Perhaps this helps explain record high credit card debt? Due to this trend, I’ve chosen to review not a top shelf bottle, but instead one that resides down near the floor often temporarily neighboring the gnarly feet belonging to those overlooking it. I do this for the unemployed drunkards, gutter punks, street bums, and struggling musicians and writers.
  While at my local liquor store and becoming somewhat dismayed at the prices of my favorite Sailor Jerry and go to Captain Morgan, both just south of $30 a bottle, I gandered about in search of something new to me. There sat Ron Virgin Spiced Rum (1.75 liter) just above floor level. Priced at only $10 ($15 minus a $5 rebate), I had nothing to lose and merrily skipped away with bottle in hand.
  The label states the spirit is a product of The West Indies produced and bottled (plastic) in Somerville, MA by M.A. Walker, Inc…who’ve been around for over 80 years.
  Since nobody on the planet and beyond do spiced rum shots or give a flick concerning its nose, I’ll just jump right into Ron Virgin’s taste: the ‘spice’ is there, but rather tame (maybe adding a bit more clove or ginger would zing it up, MS), with heavy vanilla notes. If compared to the spice of Capt, some might think Ron is bland…some might think it’s more smooth. Simply depends how you choose to enjoy it, because you will enjoy it. As the picture reveals, I’ve almost finished the bottle (not in one sitting, assholes) and have found the best way to imbibe…simply use a tad less cola than you normally would when drinking Capt, same amount of spiced rum, and add a cube or two more. If’n yer making a fancy pants drink, yer on yo’ own. The taste is there and at 70 proof, the booze kick matches Mistah Morgan. Hell, the money you save buying Ron Virgin makes it taste all the bettererer. Ron is certainly no Captain or Sailor, but the lower price makes the sacrifice well worth it.
  Since this stuff is made but 30 minutes from me, I am not sure how this impacts the low cost compared to other states, so the bargin boozin’ may not be as great.
  Oh, Ron Virgin Coconut Rum is purdy tasty, as well. Same price as the spiced rum. Mix it with cranberry and squirt/garnish with fresh lime. Holy yum!

6.19- The below is very local to me, but decided to post because I'm a dick and like to write about stuff most of the visistors to this site can not'll be happy to know I awoke on Monday sporting one hell of white head zit...

  Last Sunday, I decided to tour the bars, not for drinks, but instead to review “bar” style pizza. A bar style pizza is a 10 inch diameter personal size pizza with thin bottom crust and crispy edges, due to lack of crust. Typically, the pizza’s edges are slightly burned. This style of pizza is popular around my neck of the Massachusetts woods and not usually found elsewhere around the state. It’s usually cooked in an inch or so deep pan with the dough pushed up against the sides resulting in a slight horizontal crust rather than the typical pizza crust around the circumference of a regular pizza. There are a few legendary places within miles of me known for their bar style pizza: most notably Poopsie’s in Pembroke and Venus Café in Whitman. I love both of these places. However, today I skipped these joints and hit four new, to me, places that advertise bar pizza. This is how it worked…at each stop, I ordered a bottle of Budweiser and a cheese pizza to go. Once the pizza arrived, I ate one slice and wrote down my thoughts. My journey took me to four towns and totaled approx 20 miles. I noticed the pizza prices greatly fluctuate depending on the day and time of day. The prices listed below are the prices I paid and all of these places can be considered hard core townie joints (I just know they were all talking about me behind my back). The reviews are in chronological order.  
  1) Hoey’s Pizza. Randolph, MA. Top left. If you do not know of this place, the only way to discover it is to be told about it or come across it mentioned in an article or review. There are no signs directing pizza hounds to this place as it resides in the AM Vets Post building, and it’s on a secluded dead end street in the middle of a neighborhood. In fact, Hoey’s Pizza is a tiny kitchen located off the hallway leading to the AM Vets’ lounge. Very thin crust with perfectly burnt edges. The sauce is on the sweet side, but not overwhelmingly so. The cheese is nice and gooey/stretchy and wonderfully pockets small puddles of grease. Hoey’s pizza is right up there with Poopsies and Venus Café. This pizza cost is the most expensive I’ve seen, but well worth it. Bud cost: 2.75. Pizza cost: 7.50
  2) Lynch’s Tavern. Abington, MA. Top right. Mighty crispy bottom crust, but somewhat thick. The sauce is kind of scant, but ultra sweet (perhaps sweetest I’ve tasted) and ultra tomatoey (if’n that’s a word). The cheese has no character whatsoever. Not greasy at all. Pizza appeared undercooked to me. Although I am not reviewing the actual places, I should note this business is very small and located right along the side of active railroad tracks. The owners should install large tinted windows so patrons can see the trains screw by. I would love to own this place. The people here were by far the friendliest of the four reviewed. Bud cost: 3.00. Pizza cost: 4.75.
  3) Someplace. Rockland, MA. Bottom left. This bar is but a five minute walk from my house. I have not visited Somplace since it opened about a year ago. The sign outside the front door declares “Best Bar Pizza.” Well, to me this is not bar style pizza, but just your typical small pizza. In my eye, there is by far too much crust around the pizza’s edges. Besides, the stuff is 100% bland. I bet eating the cardboard takeout container (all four joints used the same container. Time to check out the Savaday stock price) would’ve been tastier. It is a great bet that I’ll go someplace else for my future pizzas. Bud Cost: 3.25. Pizza cost: 5.75.
  4) Damien’s. Hanson, MA. Bottom right. Thin crust with a great chewy texture. Outside of that, although the pizza is not bland, it is boring as there is nothing about the cheese and sauce that stands out above any pizza I’ve ever eaten. A slight tweak with the sauce could really help this otherwise nicely constructed pizza. Of course, topping and or hot pepper flakes would also jack up the taste. Of the four places visited, Damien’s was fastest with the pizza, but was also the less crowded. Beer cost: 3.30. Pizza cost: 6.25. 

  6.13- Raze. Rated R for violence. 92 minutes. Abducted women are held captive and forced to fight one another to the death.
  1) As the movie is 90% tougher’n nails (some graphic) brawling, I was somewhat disturbed by Raze as you know some form of this shyt occurs around the world.
  2) And Zoe Bell wonders why I love her.
  3) Sherilyn Fenn…such a shame.
  4) Not to be confused or compared to the ol’ WIP exploitation flicks of yesterday.
  Don't fergit to check out my
  It's the weekend...go have some fun...GG Allin style. 

  6.10- UFO Big Squeeze Shandy. Brewed by Harpoon Brewery (Boston, MA). 4.5% alc/vol. I must admit, I was conflicted before purchasing this seasonal shandy. Harpoon is my favorite brewery, but my history with summer/citrus brews is not a good one. I really gazed long and hard at this sixer in the liquor store before finally buying it. This unfiltered offering looks like pink grapefruit juice, and by George it tastes like grapefruit juice, with carbonation and alcohol! It’s very light and, as much as I hate using this words…refreshing.  I recall as a child often eating half of a grapefruit with a little sugar (this was before sugar was considered Hitler’s equal) sprinkled upon it and loving life. Now, I wonder if a lil’ sugar on the pint rim filled with the Big Squeeze would be just as yum. After imbibing this six pack, I can no longer say I dislike all summer seasonal releases. ‘Atta boy, Harpoon, ‘atta boy! -denis

  5.30- Posted a beer review over at the Bone Print Press Facebook page
  Just spent four hours playing pinbal at The Pinball Wizard arcade in Pelham, NH. Tons-o-fun. Lots of great pinball machines, and other arcade stuff going on over thar. If'n you dig the silver ball and are in the area...
  Weekend. Be off, now.

About five or six years ago, my next door neighbors (retired) purchased a good size recreational vehicle sleeper/camper thing. For the next month or two, they hosted parties in the RV filling it with laughter. Eventually, they drove the RV to Nova Scotia to visit family and friends. They did this a few times that first summer and they loved it. One time they drove someplace else for a wedding. The next year, they used the RV less. The following summer, their grandson and his girlfriend, both early-mid 20s, moved into the RV. This grandson was/is a turd. The girl was hot, but she beat feet back to her home in Florida after the turd became verbally abusive (which I heard many times and still hear him popping off from time to time). It all came to a head one rainy night at about 2am while I watched movies. I should note my driveway in one foot from their driveway and my tv room window is right there: ringside seating. On that rainy night, she returned home from her waitress job and was greeted by the screaming turd who was also obviously pounding on the RV walls, or so it sounded. She took refuge in her car. The turd emerged from the RV and threw what appeared to be her cd player and cds onto her car’s hood. She backed out of the driveway, leaving behind the turd and the cd stuff, and never returned. The turd still resides with his grandparents, but now lives in the house. The RV hasn’t moved an inch in at least two years.

  5.23- I recently picked up three books by three comedians.
  Attempting Normal by Marc Maron. I am not a fan of Maron’s stand-up, but I do love his tv show (IFC) and his WTF podcast. I also enjoyed this book. It’s typical Maron humor pegged with whininess. If’n you like Marc Maron, you’ll dig this book.
  Dad is Fat by Jim Gaffigan. I absolutely love Jim Gaffigan’s stand up shows. Hell, simply looking at him makes me laugh. Now, since I love Jim’s comedy and am a parent, I thought this comedic book about parenthood would be appealing. Wrong. I made it halfway through and gave up on it. This hurt me.
  Crash and Burn by Artie Lange. I really like Artie’s comedy and I loved his stories when I used to listen to The Howard Stern Show (have since moved 100% onto Opie & Anthony) years ago. However, after getting through a few chapters of this book, I was done with his selfish nonsense. Perhaps the rest of the book showed some progress with his behavior and treatment of others, but piss off already. 
'Tis the weekend...hit it like it's yer last.

  5.15- Like many thirteen year olds, my daughter is into music, big time. This is great news, because music is very important in my life. However, my daughter is not into the same type of music I am, which makes car rides sometimes rather trying. On Tuesday, May 14, I took Reilly to see one of her favorite bands, Haim, play at the Boston House of Blues. The show had been sold out for some time and I honestly expected the joint to be filled with teens and parents listening to Haim’s pop rock. Boy-oh-boy was I wrong. As far as I could see, Reilly was the youngest by a long shot…and a huge portion of the crowd were grown men. I was shocked. Then, Haim, fronted by three LA sisters (all in their 20s) played and absolutely kicked the snot out of the House of Blues. Sure, they played some slower stuff, but god damn they “rocked” much harder and louder than the few songs I’ve heard in my car while driving with the Wee Lass. Not only did they kick arse, but all three are multi-talented and know how to put on a damn great show. My favorite part of the show had the three sisters and the drummer (son of one of the singers for Three Dog Night) wailing the shyt out of the drums or about seven minutes (here's a short video taken by someone else at the show. By chance, Reilly and I were behind this person. Here's another vid and one of their hit). I was floored, shocked, and all my snarky comments about Haim leading up to the show all came back to beat me senseless. Now, am I going to go out and buy the newest Haim cassette tape? No. However, I’ll have no problem taking my daughter to see them again. What a damn good time we had...and Reilly was showered with beer for the first time. And I was there to see it…and I was there to see it.

  4.1- When I was in third or fourth grade, my classmates and I were being instructed in art class concerning the day’s typical pedestrian project. Part of the project included writing our names in block letters and coloring each letter. The teacher’s example name was Peter, which she wrote out on the paper, then said, “Hmmm, what color should I color the P?”
My classmate Jeff yelled, “How about yellow?”
My classmates and I, wearing our Catholic school get-ups, burst into hysterics. And the teacher lost her mind.

  3.7- I done put together a package of 10 micro-zines...

  2.14- Believe it 'er not, here's a DVD review
  Now, enjoy the weekend.

  2.12- Afterlife with Archie comic books: I’ve read issues 1, 2, 3 and really diggin’ them. Although all our favorite characters are present, this ‘taint your mom and pop’s Archie comics. Without giving shyt away, the undead/zombies are taking over Riverdale and it’s up to Arch to see what in creeper’s crow is going on, yo. Issues 2 and 3 also include short black and white stories not related to Archie, but are pretty good if’n you enjoy a Twilight Zone like twist. 

  1.31- I've three poems in this book, but don't let this stop you from buying it. Loaded with good stuff!
  Life Tip for the Youngins: The really good wine fizzes when you unscrew it.
  So, get to unscrewing.

  1.15- Oh ker-rap...Happy New Year.
  This happened in Boston on today's date in 1919.
  Although I am having problems with its packaging, I'll soon be releasing a series of 10 microzines centered around my days as a video store clerk. Details as soon as I can get the damn packaging set!

  12.27- Soon, we will know the truth, man.

  11.22- Although I find Anthony Bourdain rather insufferable, I did enjoy his book, Kitchen Confidential (2000) when I read it some years ago. However, the television show (2005)-which I watched over the past few days- based on the book is pretty awful. It's certainly no wonder the show only lasted 13 episodes. There, I just told you nothing.
   ...several hours have passed since typing the above genius...I was going to ramble one and on about nonsense, but have since become somewhat annoyed and agitated thanks to my day job's cheesy arse software and no longer wish to deal with anything considered techie shyt.
  Have a grand weekend...before you know it, Monday will be here.  So live hard.

Looks like 2014 will be the year for Askew Reviews 16. Writers, get ready to uncork those bottles…call for submissions in a few months.
  I just happened upon these guys, and gal, playing a bar while strolling the Asbury Park, NJ boardwalk a few months ago…and they are really damn good. Check ‘em out!

  If'n yer around Newbury and Boylston Streets in Boston, drop by Newbury Comics or Bukowski Tavern and pick up a free issue of Askew Reviews 15. I also left at each spot a copy of Track Wreckard 1-14
  Enjoy the weekend.

  10.4- Looking for a purdy cool found footage type flick loaded with murderous 1945 Nazi steam punk like zombots? Yes? Then check out Frankenstein's Army. Done had a blast watching it, did I.
   My beloved Hank 3 dropped two new releases this week. Brothers of the 4x4 is great hillbillies/rebels/outlaws playing/picking on the rickety front porch of an even more rickity (ricketier?) cabin situated on the side of a Tennesee mountain. A Fienish Threat is much faster and slides along the punk slice of Hank 3's musical salad (the man plays in many bands playing various genres of music). I absolutley love every damn second of both releases. 
   You...get bent! I'm off to have a damn good time listening to my new Hank 3 CDs, again. 

  9.27- I've got nothing, which means you can get on with yer weekend. 

  8.30-  Hunger, by Knut Hamsun (published approx 1890) is a fine read. And after, give the movie (1966) a view. Good stuff. 
  What a damn fine summer. Hate to see it go, but the damn good times will continue.
  Check out my books over here. Get 'em before I get famous and discontinue them out of embarressment.
  Enjoy the weekend, creeps.

  8.12- Years and years ago, I wrote a wee bit about an unreleased Jerry Lewis film. Well, visit the page for a new link to some video footage and interviews concerning the infamous movie, The Day the Clown Cried.

  8.2- OK drunks…how about thinking of others for once in yer self involved life AND this weekend sacrifice one pint of Guinness (or 27 cans of PBR) AND instead throw the five spot ($5) (five clams), or more, to The Wounded EOD Warrior Foundation (helps bad asses who disarmed/disposed of bombs) via Trevor’s 200 mile bike ride. All you have to do is sit on yer arse and click a few buttons, while Trevor bikes it until his banjo string runs numb.Hit Trevor's fundraising site to help out...

Last night I was fortunate enough to have been accompanied to dinner by an extremely good looking young lady. This woman is a true head turner, which I have witnessed many, many times.
As we walked down the sidewalk to the restaurant, I saw ahead of us a man who appeared to be drunkenly stumbling alongside a shopping cart filled with an assortment of stuffed to the brim bags. Since my lady friend was wearing a somewhat revealing but tasteful dress, it was about 90 degrees, I positioned myself ensuring I would be between the man and my lady friend, just in case. Sure enough, as we approached the man, he looked up and stared at her. Just as we passed the man, I saw his face light up.
“Hey man! I have a Popeye shirt, too! Wanna see it?” he asked me with booze in his voice and on his breath.
“That’s great!” I replied in a friendly manner. “But we have to get to the restaurant. We’re hungry.”
If he wasn’t obviously somewhat drunk I may have entertained the guy, but experience has shown it’s best to move along in these cases. Especially when with a woman.
He continued to excitedly mumble a bit.
About 10 feet later, I peeked over my shoulder to make sure the guy wasn’t doing anything shady and saw him digging through the bags in his cart.
We still had a good block to go before reaching the restaurant.
Sure enough, I heard the man yelling…and footsteps.
“Look at this, man!”
We turned to face the man, who appeared to be around 55-60. He was running at us holding in his hands a black t-shirt with no sleeves (the t-shirt on his back was also sleeveless). In his mouth was a freshly, judging its length (that’s what she said), lighted cigarette that appeared to have been stored in his back pocket for at least six months.
He held the shirt up in front of us like an expert displayer of t-shirts.
The shirt was black sporting an off white picture of Popeye sitting a card table reeling in a mountain of poker chips.
“Hey, that’s pretty cool.” I said.
The man turned his attention, and eyes, toward my lady friend’s breasts.
“My shirt is much cooler than yours,” he said to me.

  7.12- Yer Editor-in-Douchebag When I am eventually Supreme Ruler of the Intergalactics, my iron fist will first cease all arsehole chit-chat between terrestrial radio djs and traffic reporters flying around in helicopters. Nothing worse.

   Accidentally saw myself naked in a full length mirror and came up with a new Mike Myers/Austin Powers character: Small Penis No Bum Bastard.
   Life Tip for the Male Youngins: Develop and maintain a firm handshake, for it is essential.
   Now, use yer hands to shake the shyt out of the weekend. After all, it comes only...ONLY...but once a week. 

  7.5- Life Tip fer the Youngins: If’n you go away ANYWHERE with your teen friends for some boozin’, druggin’, and sexin’ without adult supervision all of you, except one, will be gruesomely murdered by some form of maniac. Years later, the lone survivor will also be killed when he/she first ventures back into public.
Sometimes, something sticks with you.
                When I was maybe ten years old I was watching tv with my cousin Bernie, who was about 12. We were watching a show about stuntmen being killed off one by one on a movie set. I really did not know, or simply can’t remember, if the show was a movie, an actual television show, new, or a repeat. One death occurred when a stuntman attempted to repel a building, but fell to his death (his rope and grips were greased up by the killer). He hit the ground and everyone ran to his aid. He laid there with his hands and arms extended above his head, as if raising both hands to answer a teacher’s question. Even when his wife hysterically hugged his motionless body, his arms remained reaching over his head. I did not understand why his arms were positioned like that, so I asked my cousin.
                “When he fell, he hit the ground feet first and that made his leg bones push up into his arms.” He answered.
                I was floored and completely freaked out by this notion. I totally took my cousin’s word for it because to me he was the shit.  Besides, there was no such thing as DVR rewind like you kiddies today get to enjoy so we could not rewatch the scene to confirm.
                Ever since then, this scene and my cousin’s comment have been in the back of mind and from time to time popped forward. However, I never knew what that show/movie was called and could not settle the situation as an adult.
                Fast forward to the present. Last week, in fact, when I opened a DVD envelope from Netflix. I popped the DVD into the player and started to watch the movie. When it comes to Netflix, I love using the service to watch old trashy, low budget, bargain bin no name stuff. This DVD was the perfect fit. The print was bad, as if run through the Quentin Tarantino/Robert Rodriguez grindhouse filter, but legit. The story was weak and acting somewhat pitiful…sans the mighty Robert Forster, and was loaded with horrendous corniness on every level. The movie, called Stunts (1977), was about stuntmen being killed one by one on a movie set. Until the repelling scene started, I had no idea it was the movie I had seen so long ago.
                Then it happened, the stuntman fell and hit the ground forcing his arms to push up over his head. Only problem…he did not land feet first! My cousin, who also once told me if I sneezed with my eyes open I would die, had pulled one on me. Again.
                So, I still wonder why that injured stuntman had his hands/arms sticking up over his head!

I turned right off Taunton Ave onto Union Street and noticed a person trying to enter the bank’s ATM area. As I passed the person, he was having a difficult time opening the door. I noticed he was inserting his card into the slot, pulling it out, and then tugging on the door.
   After another failed attempt, he happened to look over his shoulder in my direction allowing a very drawn out and aggravated “C’mon!” pour out of his face.
    Having used this ATM thousands of times, I said to him from the sidewalk, “Leave the card in and pull the door.”
    Just as the words left my mouth I noticed the man had the card in the slot upside down. To enter this particular ATM room, one must not only insert the card and leave it in while opening the door, but the card’s black magnetic strip must be aligned with the little arrow on the outside of the slot mechanism. At this moment, the strip was on top rather than bottom where the arrow is located.
    “Align the strip with the little arrow…” I said.
    The man pulled the card out of the slot and flipped it clockwise. Now the strip was completely on the wrong side of the slot.
    “Now turn the card around,” I said with a giant burst of laughter.
    He did and shot me an angry glance as he entered the ATM.
    I guess he did not like me laughing at is aggravation.
    I continued my walk with a little extra wide grin.

  6.15- It is Saturday. Learn to forgive and to forget and to move on. Otherwise, you risk a lifetime of explosive diarrhea.

Tonight I hit the local for the first time in a long time, or so it seems. I was at first skeptical about going because today’s temps were pretty baking and the local’s ac unit typically can’t keep up with even a winter’s day. However, I made the eight minute trek and found my arse upon a bar stool soon enough. Instantly, I became annoyed with the fella’ sitting next to me. He constantly shouted out lame jokes to his buddy barkeep and followed each with overly loud and dramatic laughter at his own self perceived humor. Nobody else was laughing. Oh, how dare I forget his accompanying hand clapping. Jesus.
  As my first pint came and went, the place filled up at a remarkable rate with what seemed like clones of the loud mouth next to me. Suddenly, the older guy on the other side of me started talking with, make that, to me about the Boston Red Sox. Don’t get me wrong, I love baseball (and hockey) talk, but this chap had no idea what he was talking about: he thought Josh Beckett was still with the Sox. Note; he was traded well over a year ago to the LA Dodgers. Anyway, his blabber got old mighty quick.
  Then the kicker. The band started and they were not only way too loud, but they played the same old classic bar music crap heard in almost every bar nationwide.
That was it. I ordered another pint, took a few giant pulls from it, poured the rest in a plastic cup, and headed out to the porch.
  My sanctuary…for about five minutes.
  Horrified, I watched as a tall goofy man looking like he had been drinking since the last presidential election stumbled out of the bar and fell into the chair next to me.
  “I’m Roby,” he said offering his hand.
  I reached to return the hand shake, but expertly fumbled my phone and dropped it to the ground. I have a great cell phone case, so I knew it would be ok.
  By the time I retrieved my phone, his hand had receded.
  The man then went on and on and on detailing how he was kicked out of rehab earlier that afternoon and how he was an alcoholic…and a druggie…and a thief. Each time he reveled something new he would act bashful and all “I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”
  I only shook my head and pretend laughed the entire time until he finally stood up and stepped away. But of course he turned, “I’m Roby. I forget your name. Paul?”
“Frank,” I replied. For the record, my name is Denis.
  “Frank, I’ve some (inaubible)…Would you like one? Do you know what they are? You know what I’m talking about.”
“I’m good thanks,” I said.
  He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of pills scattered with lint, loose change, and balled up Dentine wrappers from the 1970s.
  “Here. Take one. It’ll give you a very non-narcotic high.”
  Now, if Roby were a trusted friend, then perhaps I would have. But since Roby looked like he just dropped out of a bird’s asshole…I passed.
  I finished my beer and noticed as I walked away up the street, Roby was facing another poor soul holding out his hand.

Since I started working very part time for a carting company, several people have said, “You should watch Party Down.”  I did. Seasons one and two. Season one is the better season, but season two is well worth the viewing if’n you liked season one. I sho’ did enjoy the heckers out of meself.
  Now, go enjoy the heckers out of the weekend.

  4.26- Book review as discussed in my 3.29 post (down there).

The Baytown Outlaws…good over the top redneck violence riddled with some tenderness and a song by Hank III, goddamit! And you thought the gangs in The Warriors were zany…

  4.5- I was 18 years old and that summer, the summer of the “diving board” (story for another time and different audience)  my mom and step dad did a lot of traveling. Naturally, this demanded my younger brother and sister (they’re twins and about two years younger than me) and I host several “gatherings” while the cats were away. For the teen back then our house was Avalon…pool, pool table, pinball machine, and a juke box. What I found strange about my siblings’ Polo drenched male friends is each would bring his own beer to the gatherings, which is cool, but would walk around carrying the goods never allowing it to be more than an arm’s reach away. This was back in the day when cans of beer were housed in suitcase looking boxes. I ker-rap you not, they would walk around the house carrying a suitcase of cheap shyt beer; Busch, Keystone, Coors, et al. It was so funny watching these fellas play pool: take a shot, pick up the beer, walk to the other side of the table to take another shot, repeat, rinse. Oh, and seeing them jam to a tune playing on the jukie while trying their best to not shake up the beers was a true delight. I now realize why they did this, at least at my house. You see, if they put the beer in the fridge, I often took it, passed it to my friends, and down the hatch it went. Sure, we had our own beer, but someone else’s beer always tastes much better. During one particular blowout, one of my brother’s best friends “caught” me, I wasn’t exactly being stealth about it, taking his beer and gave me a shove. Well, I shoved him the shove of a champion shover and sent him arse over elbow. He then yelled, half crying, “Don’t shove me, Denis!” and ran off. I actually felt bad about this incident because although this kid was bad news, he was alright. However, these days he’s in jail and could easily whoop my bucket without blinking an eye. A few days after this weekend blowout, my brother called me on swiping the beer and I fully admitted to it because my house my beer is how my brain figured it. “Denis, you can’t do that,” my brother said. “Beer to a sixteen year old is like gold.” A genius way of putting it, really. And he was absolutely right, but what he didn’t know was Mother happened to turn the corner just before he spoke those words of ageless wisdom. As you can imagine, Lil’ Bro got a speaking to and firm finger wagging while I, even though the culprit (dick), innocently wondered off and drove away in my car with a trunk full other people’s warm beer that would most certainly be chilled and knuckle backed another time.
Here's something new considering this is a review site...a DVD review! Who would've guessed?
  And now for the weekend. You are a future serial killer and this weekend is your family pet. You know what comes next...

  3.29- Years and issues ago, Askew Reviews had chick who contributed her writings. Amy. Amy Bugbee was her name and Amy Bugbee is still her name. Amy has a husband. Shane Bugbee is his name and this is their Facebook page for liking. A few years ago, the two traveled the USA for one year in their car with almost no money, no jobs, and nowhere to zzzzzz. Once settled, they documented-book and movie- their travels, their experiences, and the diverse words of many others they interviewed along the way. At some point, I will have a more in-depth look at this "boovie," but why not have a lookie right now on yer own...The Suffering and Celebration of Life in America.
  Now, I am off to make me and eat me some rabbit gumbo while enjoying the symphony of cries sung by little boys and girls over empty Easter baskets.

  3.25- Monday.
The Man Outside
  While standing in front of my window scratching behind my cat’s ears, I saw my neighbor-who lives across the street- walk out of his house to his car carrying a large bag of returnable cans and plastic bottles. As he tried to stuff the bag into the back seat, a two liter plastic bottle broke free and rolled under the car. The man placed the bag into the car and got down on his hands and knees to retrieve the escaped bottle, which rested out of reach from every angle. The man, who I’m guessing is in his mid to late 60s, painstakingly returned to his feet and walked into his house. A gust of wind then blew the bottle from under the car in the opposite direction of the house and across the driveway. Moments later, the man exited his house holding a long handled floor broom. Blue handle, yellow bristles. The kitchen broom, I suspect. The man crouched back down and looked under the car giving things a double take, as if somewhat confused, after discovering the bottle was now missing or invisible. The wind gusted again sending the bottle over the sidewalk and onto the street where it tumbled a few times along the curb. The dancing bottle against the asphalt must’ve created some noise because it got the man’s immediate attention. He got up and lumbered toward the bottle, which ran from him fueled by the wind. Thinking quickly and smartly, when within reach the man extended the broom and corralled the bottle under the yellow bristles. With one foot on the street and one on the sidewalk, the man awkwardly bent over and picked up the bottle.  

  3.17- When I was in my early 20s, my friends and I attended a comedy show at a basement comedy club in Harvard Sq Cambridge, MA. Two of the chicks with us were hard core women libbers and after the show, as we hung out on the sidewalk, complained about one of the jokes a comedian told. As they complained, the offending comedian appeared and circled us defending himself and the joke, “It was only a joke.” We later saw him in a nearby MBTA station and he played like he was shielding himself from us. It was funny and he was funny. In the few years that followed this night, that comedian had good parts in The Godfather III, Ghost, became addicted to heroin, contracted AIDS, and soon thereafter died from a pulmonary embolism. 

  3.16- To celebrate my six days of sobriety, which will end today, Askew Reviews 15 (PDF) is free until Monday. 

  3.15- Ahoy thar, maties. I done recently watched Intruder (1989. Not rated. 88 min. Synapse Films. Blu-Ray/DVD pack) and feel completely silly that this fun slasher flic somehow eluded me for all these years. We have this supermarket in Michigan and not only is it closing time, it’s also KILLING time. Ya, I went there. Locked in the store are several people who get picked off one by one with each killing more creative (aka yucky) than the last. Directed by Scott Spiegel and stars Renee Estevez, Sam and Ted Raimi…look for Bruce Campbell, too! I found the kills fun and also found myself digging, and sometimes perplexed by, certain camera angles/views. One view will certainly confuse younger viewers! This here version is the director’s cut and includes many extras. Fer sure a good fit for your own midnight madness viewing.
  In 30 years, when yer looking back on your life, make sure this weekend stands out loud and clear. Cheers!

  3.9- I was 9 or 10 when I made my first visit to Fenway Park. If I correctly remember, I was with my uncle, cousin, and my younger brother. I sat with my brother while my uncle and cousin sat elsewhere. I was in awe: the field, Green Monster, the sounds of the game. However, I was nervous and scared because back then I was always nervous and scared. We sat maybe ten or eleven seats deep into the row of grandstand seats. Tiny blue seats too small even for a scrawny 9/10 year old. Next to me was a teenager and his friend. He was maybe 17 with glasses and blonde hair sporting a style suggesting his barber had a bowl fetish. Three or four innings into the game, the teenager lit a joint and passed it back and forth with his friend. I had a small idea of what was going on, but not 100%. I felt a nudge on my side and I looked at him. He held the joint out to me offering me a pull. I said no. “You might as well. If I get caught they’ll throw out the entire row. That’s what they do,” he said. I was terrified. I thought for sure my brother and I would get thrown out of my beloved Fenway into the mitts of the junkies, bums, and pickpockets waiting outside forever separated from my uncle and cousin. A half inning or so later, the two stoned teens left and never returned. I loved baseball and the Red Sox and that kid ruined what should have been a nonstop great time. I like to think if I ever run into that guy again, I’d toss the law, lawyers, and civility to hell and certainly bust his snout with a quick right.

  3.5-I have never been much of a video game person. Yes, I have played some but never got into them because I lack patience. A few years ago, I heard about a video game called Red Dead Redemption and it did pique my interest, but I never acted upon that interest (same can be said about any Star Wars game). On Feb 28, my daughter turned 12 and one of my gifts to her was the Xbox 360 video game console. And a week earlier, my sister’s (cougar) boyfriend lent me his copy of Red Dead Redemption. So far, I’ve spent a total of maybe 60 minutes playing the game. My first annoyance came when a task demanded “I” lasso a wild horse and break it (ride it). I caught the wild horse, jumped off my horse, and mounted the wild stallion but the ba’sterd bucked me off its back. I went again and broke the horse. I was then instructed to get back onto my regular horse to capture more wild ones. Problem…my horse beat hoofies out of there. So I run around looking for the backstabber…then the game calls me a failure and quits on me. Nice. My next go around, I somehow end up in some town and I have no idea what I’m supposed to do. I enter a saloon (of course) and head upstairs and try to buy some time with a prostitute (hoping she’s a tranny). She walked away after we both discovered I did not have enough money. So, I shot her and now I’m suddenly the bad guy with every bow legged swinging dick pumping my outlaw arse with lead. Ya, game ended again calling me a failure. What the shyt? So much for the wild west!

  2.18- Recently watched (via Netflix) the documentary “Shut Up Little Man! An audio Misadventure” and found it rather funny and interesting. The doc concerns two elderly male roommates, Ray and Peter, who loudly argue when drinking and the two neighbors who recorded/exploited the verbal exchanges. The arguments were put on cassette tape (this was back in the late 80s) and quickly became popular resulting in comic books, plays, a movie, and of course legal issues. The star of this documentary is the all too little (after all, they do have CDs to sell) audio of the arguing roommates; how these guys used words to battle is priceless, “You always giggle falsely! You don’t have a decent giggle in you!” Great stuff! If you do not want to bother with the documentary, here's an almost ten minute sample of Ray and Peter.

  2.10- Dearest Readers...
Long shot....anyone have a copy of this book I could borrow: The Death of Kiera and Davey and the Adventures Preceding Their Demise by Emily J. McAllister
I bought it for my daughter about 4 yrs ago and now she's doing some big report on it, but she lost the book and she needs the actual book for her presentation, of course. The book is out of print, can not find it at the library, and is not for sale on ebay. If’n you have a copy, I’ll pay for all shipping and return it…email me;

  2.5- Shellback Caribbean Spiced Rum (Barbados): Stronger than the Capt (80 proof vs 70 proof). Very strong vanilla taste with no added sugar, but still sweet with a low spice tang at the end. Very dry, as well.

  2.4- Years ago I worked with a guy who collected nips (little bottles of alcohol). He especially liked brands of booze that were not sold in Massachusetts, so he often traded with people from other states via the mail (mailing booze back then was illegal, not sure if it still is). When the collection reached about two hundred nips, his mother’s boyfriend moved into the house. His mother’s boyfriend was an alcoholic. I think you know what happened next.

  1.19- Because my Satterday is not going as's a short book review.

Brief exchange with my daughter while on our Saturday morning walk:
  “Dad, it’s cold. Can we go home?”
  “No, it’ll but hair on your balls.”
  “Dad, I don’t have those.”
  I've nothing more and you are dismissed to diss yer liver, liver dissers.

  1.11- Long time Askew Reviews contributor Gary Every finally has a web site. I love the stuff this guy writes!
I done watched a few movies:
  V/H/S (Magnet Releasing) Rated R. Approx 2 hours. VHS is a collection of “found footage” shorts written, directed, and starring different people. Other than horror, there is no connection between the shorts. Viewers get some spooks, gore, and even some good ol’ fashioned nudity. I did, at times, find the shaky Jake camera work annoying as this type of filmmaking is really starting to get boring. However, VHS is purdy cool and well worth a viewing!
  The Life and Death of a Porno Gang (Synapse Films). Not Rated. 112 minutes. Serbian language w/English subs. In Serbia, a young filmmaker gets his arse into some trouble and gets the fuck out of Dodge right quick. Knowing he’ll need to repay the debts at some point, the Serbian Speilberg wannabe gathers a troop of sex performers to travel together and put on side shows to raise cash. Wanting to make an even faster buck (or whatever their money is over there), the gang agrees to film-in an artsy way-snuff films. Well, as you can imagine, it’s all downhill from there. Nutty conflicted characters and lots of floppy Euro wangs and boobies. The movie does have its violence and blood and is a complete mood downer. Don’t watch before heading out to be the life of the party!

  1.6- When I was but a lad, ‘twas dining one evening with Mommy Dearest and younger twin brother and sister in a fine eatery (an eatery years later I was offered a job and soooo regret not taking) in Hanson, MA. At some point during the meal, Dearest handed me a piece of paper and pen and said, “Go over there and ask that man for his autograph.” I looked at him and did not recognize the seemingly ancient man, but did so anyway. The man signed, Woo to you! Arnie “Woo Woo” Ginsburg. Turns out he was some fancy pants popular oldies DJ back in the ol’ Boston days. I was not impressed and failed to care. However, I still remember this story and have nothing else to add so you can go now.
  Recently read "86'd" by Dan Fante. I loved the debauchery, self destruction, and humor, but haaaaaaaaated the ending. With that, I do think it's a great book to swallow with yer eyeballs. 
  Ok. Go now.

  12.28- Ok…the ultra graphic nonfiction short story I wrote over the summer will soon be available in mini chap book form on the cheap…approx fourteen pages. More info for you to ignore coming soon, dinks.
  And, Exsicion is a purdy good "girl sho' gone cray cray" movie. Check it out, fine people.

  12.22- Really excited and looking forward to my annual Christmas Eve Bedwetting. This year’s theme: Asparagus. So, let's get to bed wetting, bed wetters!

  12.7- Today I tried Vlasic's "Farmer's Garden" pickle...unless you want the jar to use for your moonshine, do not fall for this gimmick. Not much of a taste beyond the bitter vinegar's bite and the slight crunch seems more of an aferthought to the pickle's sogginess. Yuck. I know I've mentioned it here in the can't lose with Grillo's Pickles. Well worth the extra cash.
  Why not buy the Bone Print Sixer for someone you hate?
  Other than that, I've nothing fer yer arse. 
  Enjoy the weeknd.

  11.30- DVD review.
  Enjoy the weekend, jerk.

  11.23-While reaching for something on the shelf in my laundry room, the right side of my hip shifted the dryer causing it to move thereby pinching my Mr. Sunshine between it and the washing machine. Major ouchie. It may be black Friday to you, but it’s black and blue Friday for me.
  Check out my books.

  11.22- Note to the young, but of age, chicks out there…if’n yer going to invite that special guy back to your place, there are a few items of the boozin’ variety you should keep stocked. First and only, never tell a guy you have beer at home when said beer is “light” beer. If the guy is looking for light beer, then he’s not the man for you. A true man has it in him to work off a full bodied beer. Now, when it comes to beer your best bet is to keep things safe. Any beer drinking male will happily pour a Budweiser down the hatch without complaint. Having a sixer of Bud bottles in the fridge will do wonders while remaining simple. However, something like Sam Adams will also do, as will PBR (he’ll either love it or hate it, but def think yer cool for having it). Personally, I’d love to see a pack of Harpoon IPA in there, but some guys may find that too bitter…and honestly, it’s not the best make-out beer out there as it makes for gummy saliva. Sure you may run into the occasional beer snob, but do you really want one of “those” in your life, if even for an hour, at this point in your relationship? Nah. Ok, beer score settled. Next, true booze. Having one or all three of the next ensures a winning late evening: Jack Daniels, Jameson Irish Whisky, Capt Morgan spiced rum. Can’t lose, really. However, if you wish to stand out from the rest…Gentleman Jack Daniels is oh so smooth…ok, you can’t substitute Jameson…Sailor Jerry spiced rum is higher priced and much stronger than the Captain, and will-or should- certainly thrust you to the front of the line as a fierce woman. Of course, if you’re going to stock the mentioned booze, best make sure you have ice, some sort of cola, and ginger ale will also work with the Jack and Jameson. Oh, and a clean drinking glass or two (for the slobs). Yes, there is a ton of stuff you can choose to keep stocked for that “special” 2 am moment, but the before written of is readily available and will not break your bank…but will make that man happy above and beyond the happiness he already feels being with you, you sexy skank you. Bottoms up and knuckle back! Oh, and if you choose to implement this advice, well, please do give me a call…

  11.17- Watched an indie movie the other night I’m sure was awful. However, since I was drinking it was the greatest movie in cinematic history, at the time.

  10.24- I find it amazing how when fallen leaves are rustled about by the wind, it sounds like a country bubbling brook. It’s relaxing. Too bad in 20 years it’ll probably make me have to pee.

  10.19- (read in your best crotchety old man voice) These got-dang kids today! They have it so easy when it comes to music. When I was a kid, I would often buy an album based on one song or the band. Because of this, if while listening to the album I wanted to know the title of an unfamiliar song, I had to cross reference the album cover or try and read the record’s label as it spun around and around. Nowadays, these spoiled brats only need to look at their iWhateverTheyHave.
  Back when I was a young handsome stud writing the letters that made up The Longberry Letters, I’d say 8 out of 10 companies responded. About a year ago, I began writing letters for another book. This time around, the number of replies is about 2 out of 10. Sure shows what we already know…huge decline consumer relations.

  10.5- Brain Scribbles of Yesterday…I was in the second grade and because I was a stressed out chicken shit nervous wreck of a turd, I most likely cried my eyeballs out when I remembered I needed a sweatband for my head as instructed by Mr. Black, my gym teacher (yes, the same gym teacher who humiliated me that same year after I loudly popped a fart in class, as you most certainly read in my first book, A Nobody’s Nothings. Crap, I think it’s in my first book). Anyway, I am sure I realized this at 7 am as my mother hurried three kids to get ready for school. Now, I do not recall if this was my mom’s idea or mine, but I ended up going into gym class sporting a head band made from the waistband from my father’s boxers. I remember walking into the gymnasium and being halted by Mr. Black as he strangely gawked at my headband…Though I am unsure of my exact age, I am guessing it was year 7, 8, or 9. My cousins from the big city (Dorchester, MA) came to visit us one fine summer day in Hanson, MA (suburb south of Boston). One of the many activities we partook of was playing a festive game of “guns.” As we ran around my backyard and woods (or as my city slick cousins called it, “The Forest”) my older cousin Kenny took aim of his younger brother, my younger cousin, Keith and filled him with imaginary lead. However, Keith continued to run, so Kenny yelled, “Keith, I got you!” Keith stopped mid-stride, turned towards Kenny and said, “What?” It’s too bad real “guns” isn’t like this…One summer when I was maybe 10, my cousin Bernie (who I lived with for a year after my wife and I split; ‘twas a great year, indeed. One time we went out and got trashed at some local Dedham bar where two fatties filled us with premium spirits and wanted to go home with us. Of course, I was all in, but Bernie, although three sheeted, took control, “There’s no way they are coming home with us. I’m from this town and I will have to answer for it if we leave with them.”) One summer, Bernie went away to camp and upon his return, all he talked about was how the camp food gave him nonstop diarrhea. And we listened. Boys will be boys...Another summer around age 10, I went with my cousins (Keith and Kenny’s family) to their cousin’s house down on Cape Cod (Buzzard’s Bay, I believe). We only stayed the weekend, but it was another world for me; the ocean, the beaches, swimming to the docks in the bay (yes, being touched by the unseen seaweed scared the snot out of me, every time), and hanging with kids a few years older than me. We spent a lot of time with my cousins’ cousin, who one night invited out a female friend of his. This female friend brought along a friend, or possibly family member, from another state (I recall she sounded Southern) named Danielle. The second I saw her, I fell head over heels. I’m talking a cartoon Cupid appeared and sunk an arrow deep into my face. Of course, since I was such a shy nerd, I barely looked at her, though I did manage to sit next to her at the movies. When we returned home, I told my cousin and his cousin how much I dug Danielle. Weeks later, I found out they told Danielle of my crush and that her response was, “Ewwwww!” (I am taking liberties with the total w count). I knew right then and there that women would be a lifelong issue for me…I was in sixth grade and that year was the year of the “Slam Book.” The Slam book was a notebook with a question written on each page and each line on every page was numbered. What you did was sign your name on a numbered line on the first page and answer the questions throughout the entire Slam Book making sure you remained on the same numbered line, so all answers tied back to the same person. The questions ranged from name, favorite tv show, favorite song, and of course who you “liked,” found to be the cutest in school and who you wanted to have as a boyfriend/girlfriend, etc. They were silly, but this one Slam Book emerged; a female only Slam Book. The girls did a great job of keeping this female only Slam Book hidden from male eyes. Until, that is, my friend Matt and I, ditched out of lunch early (which was a HUGE deal because we attended a strict catholic school) to find that forbidden Slam Book. First, we rummaged through the desks of girls in one sixth grade class. Nothing. We hit the next sixth grade class and I unburied the treasure. It was like finding money, only better. I remember to this day holding it up and saying, “I’ve got it!” We stole the mighty girl only Slam Book. After lunch, when we all were ushered to the little boy’s room for pee-pee break, we-the boys- huddled around the notebook as we first checked out the sign in page. We then skipped the nonsense questions to the cutest boy, boyfriend, who do you like pages. Jeff Coburn. F’in Jeff Coburn was listed on every line of “important” pages by every girl. It was the most disappointing event in all of our lives. Except Jeff’s…Growing up in Hanson, MA I lived on a cul-de-sac street called Steven St. Through the woods (forest to some) and down the hill ran another street where the Olsens lived. I honestly do not recall who lived there, other than Steven and his older brother whose name I can not remember. Steven was a year or two older than me. For whatever reason, the kids on my street hated the Olsen boys and they hated us. Every chance we got, we fought with them. Not physical fighting, but more along the lines of throwing shyt at each other and wrecking each others’ tree forts (tree fort building was big in my youth). Why we did not get along with the Olsen boys is unknown to me, but I suspect I was following the lead of the older kids who lived on my street. I thought they were ok because they built the greatest tree forts. Seriously, they had functional windows and wallpaper in their tree forts! Still, if we happened upon a foreign tree fort, we wrecked it, and they wrecked ours. Always. No exception. One night, I was walking down the aisle of a toy store and saw Steven Olsen walking towards me. I knew I was doomed. Destined to get pounded by him based only on the fact he could build a better tree fort than my friends and I. To my credit, I did not turn the other way to avoid the oncoming conflict, which surprised even me. He was taller than me. He was tougher looking than me, by a county mile. And he was certainly going to hurt me. As we passed, we locked eyes. As I tensed and readied myself to recoil from a smack, he grinned and simply acknowledged me with a chin up head nod…My mom, 1 of 10, was born and raised in Dorchester. Growing up, most of my extended family lived in Dorchester, except for my Mom’s younger sisters, Rita, who lived in Norwell with her family; husband and two kids named John and Carrie-both a bit younger than me. Because they were our closest cousins, we visited them a lot. Living down the street from John and Carrie was a kid named Joey. Joey had Down Syndrome so I have no idea how old he was when I knew him. I always thought he was around my age, but Down Syndrome kids are always way older than what you think. So I was maybe 12 and he was probably 52. Often, when we visited John and Carrie, Joey would come over and we all played together. One time, Joey had a doctor’s kit and he asked me to be his patient. Since we were in the front yard and I was only trying to be nice to the “retard,” I said ok. I laid down on the grass as the other kids ran around and did whatever they were doing. Joey broke open his doctor kit and put on whatever you call those things doctors use to listen to your heart. However, instead of using the instrument, he placed his ear against my chest to check my heart. He then began to gently pump my chest as if trying to revive me. It was all fun and games until Joey leaned over and gave me mouth to mouth resuscitation. I quickly and forcefully pushed him away and told him that was not cool. Understanding he was “special,” I left it at that. Across the street from John and Carrie lived a family who had two kids, Steven and Diane (I think). Steven was a known troublemaker, and I think Diane picked up on his attitude. Steven was about my age, but Diane was a good few years younger than I. Diane picked on Joey, nonstop. It was mean and relentless. One time while we all played on the street, a car drove towards us. We all cleared the street to allow the car to pass. Suddenly, Joey darted in front of the car causing Dianne to scream a horrific scream for Joey’s safely, “Joey, no!” Joey did not get hit by the car. It was then we realized although Diane was mean to Joey, deep inside she cared about him…Just to reiterate, as if it’s not already drilled into your skull, my family is from Dorchester and I spent a lot of my youth in that place, though I only lived there until about age 5. It’s a city type area loaded with three-decker apartment houses and one would let people know where they lived by parish name; St. Margaret’s, St. Mark’s, etc (at least that is how I remember it as an outsider). The streets were not all that wide with on street parking making things tighter. During the summer, the ice cream truck would drive down the one way street, find a spot to park, and sit there. The ice cream truck that frequented the area of my grandparent’s/aunt and uncle’s three-decker was a rounded boxy looking green truck. I do not even remember if its greenness adorned ice cream signage. As far as I recall, this ice cream truck only served soft serve ice cream. None of today’s typical silly commercially themed ice cream bar nonsense. It was the best ice cream truck and to this day, I wish it was still around. So, as all kids do, when the truck would parallel park on St. Margaret’s Street, we would run to our parents begging for money to purchase ice cream cones. We would wait in line, get our cones-vanilla, chocolate, or mixed twist- and immediately run to the back of the truck where compressors spewed through screened grates steaming air at a hurricane’s pace. I recall standing in the summer heat nestled between the truck’s rear bumper and a parked car’s front bumper feeling my long arse hair being blown by the fans and licking the soft serve ice cream as it ran down my hand trying my best to keep up with the quickly dwindling cone.
   Enjoy the weekend!

  9.21- Whenever I see a movie with descriptions such as avant-garde, surreal, or mind trippy, I basically know and expect the thing to be made up of nonsensical nonsense that basically makes no sense. And that is pretty much the case with two of Alejandro Jodorowsky works: El Topo (1970) Holy Mountain (1973). The stuff here is truly nutty, mostly to the point of flat out confusing. However, there’s a lot to be said about this nuttiness because there are shots/acts that are way the hell out there (I could run off a list like most reviewers would to fill space and make word counts, but I am not a douche). I’m getting too old and lazy to try and decipher this type of stuff out and in the end I did not give a shat about the stories and symbolisms, but I did dig Jodorowsky’s creativity. Do I regret watching these two? No. Will I ever watch another film by this guy? I hope not

Since age 18, you were there
The brews, cans of soda, water, the old construction site lunches
And picnics with my daughter
Always my passenger on road trips, too
You acted like a seat at times
And the occasional step stool, until that one time you turned on me
Sending my arse for a Dixie
Ah yes, I certainly returned that favor
When you held that one girl’s vomit in my car’s backseat
You kept it all cooler than Vegas’ coolest casino cooler
But that was yesterday
Now, you’re tired, beat up, stained, and no longer keep things as
Cold as they should
It’s true, I’ve found another
And while you rest in retirement in my basement
Please know you’ll be my first call should an experienced back-up is needed
Since age 18, you were there
With me
My dear friend

  It's Friday. Time to make your own cooler memories.

  9.18- Synapse Films recently released a Blu-Ray/DVD combo pack of 1989’s Red Scorpion. Why? I do not know. Well, do not know aside from the mighty Dolph Lundgren kicking Russian ass while wearing 80’s shorty shorts, and the awesome M. Emmet Walsh (he’s great in everything, notably The Jerk), and Brion James (he’s the guv’nah!), and gore effects via FX legend Tom Savini, all wrapped up in some cheesy late 80’s punch ‘em out and shoot ‘em up action. Also included are a ton of extras, including cool/funny (and new!) interviews with Lundgren and Savini.

  9.1- I have a flash fiction piece over here. It's online and free, so you have no reason to not have a look and leave a comment about how handsome you find me.

  8.31- Book review!

  8.21- Been a while. Vacation, it was, and having a floogin' blast. 
  Some people I kow are making a short movie, The Five Noble Truths. Help them by spreading the word or maybe even offer up some cash. 

  7.26- If'n you like pickles you must try Grillo's Pickles. Great taste, great crunch. Aside from the general Boston area, I am not sure of their distribution, but you done bes' have yerself at least one spear. I tried the regular variety, leaving the "spicy" for another day. I suppose the easiest way to purchase is to hit Whole Foods, or if'n yer around Park St Station (on Boston Comons) stop at the Grillo Pickle Cart. 
  Ok, monkey jacks...have a look at Askew 15 and peek over there at my books

  7.13- Start thinking about yer subs for Askew Reviews 16!
  DVD review concerning a documentary of one fine movie.
  It is Friday...and it was all fun-n-games until that little f’ing five year old mocked me with his annoying wind propelled hand held pinwheel.
  Go break a pinwheel, for me, this weekend.

  6.29- There's just something sexy about an elderly woman buying herself a six pack (cans) of crappy beer...Kids have it made today. When I leave my daughter in the car for hours while I get drunk in the pub, she has her iPhone, iPad, Kindle, and satellite radio to keep her busy. When my mom left me in the car for hours while she got drunk in the go-go bar, all I had were old McDonald’s ketchup packets salvaged from the glove compartment...I have amazing will power, except when it comes to those goldfish crackers. The little bah’sturds get me every time...Anybody who seriously uses the phrase “You are what you eat” most certainly must’ve eaten at some point in their life a douchbag...Part of my job is to provide tech support to our customers and the people who lack common sense and do not follow directions the most are those whose emails end with .gov and .edu. It’s frightening...
It was raining at a pretty good clip the other day. As I watched the rainfall from my front porch, I thought to myself how great it is that rain falls from the sky to the ground and not from the ground up to the sky. Otherwise, the rain would go up our noses...“Yuck, why bother?” is what I thought to myself the other night I saw an extraordinarily unattractive couple arguing in the parking lot of a bar..Sometimes a good nose picking is comparable to an orgasm...  
  The weekend calls. Live hard.

  6.8- Very lazy today. Do you think the song Gloria (Them, Patti Smith, Doors, Rick Springfield, et all) would be as popular and cool if the girl’s name was Gertrude?

  5.25- Yowza! Looks like I missed some time, there.
  When seeing a movie titled "Rabies," one would, or might, think it's about aniamls or humans contracting the infectious disease that makes its carrier froth at the mouth and looney (think of Cujo...woof). Well, the "Rabies" produced in Israel whose dialog is 100% Hebrew is not that. Instead, watch as a group of people pulled together by accident follow each other's lead and get rabid. 'Twas so not what I expected, and I dig that shyt, yo. 
  If'in you like peppermint patties and want to make some yerslef, have a look at this video/recipe.It is insanely easy and the patties are beyond amazing. Trust me. I have made well over 100 patties over the past two months.
  429 Records recently released Hunter S. Thompson’s iconic article “The Kentucky Derby is Decadent and Depraved” as a spoken word/musical composition collaborative. Originally published in Scanlan's Monthly in June 1970, this piece is considered to have influenced the term “gonzo journalism.” The dialog is performed by a cast of actors/actresses, notably Tim Robbins as Thompson, with a very snazzy jazzy feeling soundtrack. I’ve listened to most of the release and ache to hear it in its entirety.
  Get bent.
  Late Add:
While driving to pick up my daughter at school just now, I found myself stuck in a traffic jam due to a car crash. Although the emergency vehicles were on the scene the accident had just happened. The crash involved a mid sized pickup truck and a SUV obviously driven by high school seniors as it was decorated with streamers, balloons and "Class of 2012" paint. Today is the last school day for area high school seniors. While sitting in traffic, I noticed two teenagers sitting on the grass. Both of them had their faces painted and were wearing 2012 T-shirts. They were obviously from the SUV and looked both scared and almost in shock. Way behind the two kids I saw a car pull over and a man jumped out rushing towards them. As he approached the two sitting teens, he said something and the girl jumped up and the two embraced. From my point of view I could see the girl's back and could tell she had started to cry. The man's face was looking in my direction but not looking at me. He appeared to be the girl's father. As they hugged he asked her if she was okay. At this point, he was looking out of the side of his eyes into the side of her head. However, he shifted his eyes and noticed the two crashed up cars. At that very moment his face began to twist into a near cry and he pulled her even closer. I could see every emotion he was feeling on his face as he realized that things could have been a lot worse and just how close he was to perhaps losing his daughter. Being a father of a young girl, I completely connected with the guy and quickly became blurry visioned as my eyes swelled with tears. Be grateful for the ones you love, and be careful out there, jerks.

  5.11- Sorry my Beloveds…no time for an update today. I’m going out to buy some of those large neckerchiefs I tie around my neck and stuff down the middle of my shirt so when I find something ghastly, I can dramatically grab it and cover my mouth.

Ever notice how a group of chicks cannot go out drinking together without some form of drama erupting? There's always one chick that'll drink too much and needs a babysitter or two or more chicks will get into an argument/fight or one chick will get into a fight with another chick from another group of chicks. Regaurdless of what happens, there's always at the very leaset one unhapy chick at the end of the night.
   Earlier today I watched a Bugs Bunny cartoon called “Bugs and Thugs” and in it Bugs gets kidnapped by two bank robbers but for a minute Bugs escapes and calls the police using an old fashioned telephone in a telephone booth but then the thugs grab Bugs and pulls him away but Bugs doesn’t let go of the telephone and pulls the cord which pulls the policeman on the other end through the phone’s speaker and I laughed.
  DVD review over here.
  Enjoy the weekend and don't be afraid to smell bad while doing it.
  4.20- One person's madness is another person's Friday night.

  4.13- I often wonder if vegetarian Parrotheads are allowed to like and sing-a-long with that awful “Cheesebuger in Paradise” song…I liked America better when Freedom of Speech didn’t have an asterisk next to it…A moment in the day of a man: The other morning, like most mornings, I awoke and found my way to the living room to look out of the window that overlooks my street. As I gazed, my sightline was interrupted when an oversized pick-up truck with a lift bucket in its bed and “Tree Service” lettered on its door parked directly in front of my house. With the truck still running (loud diesel engine), I watched as the man driving the truck got out of the cab and slowly removed his jacket as he walked around the back of the vehicle. When he approached the passenger side door, he paused to fix the jacket as if not to wrinkle or crease. Holding the jacket delicately by the collar with his left hand, he used his right hand to open the passenger side door, but failed when it was obvious the door was locked. The man’s shoulders and upper body instantly slumped as if he just learned of a loved one’s tragic death. A partial upper body collapse. Slowly, the man-balding, glasses, slightly pot bellied, appearing to be near age 50- walked back around the truck, opened the driver side door and threw his jacket by the collar across the inside of the cab where it hit the passenger side window and fell onto the passenger seat. The man then climbed into the truck and stretched across to unlock the door. Once again, the man exited the truck, walked around the front of the truck, and successfully opened the passenger side door. The man pulled out his now disheveled jacket and arranged it as not to wrinkle or crease. The man carefully draped the jacket over the passenger side seatback, closed the door, walked around the truck, and let himself back into the cab. He adjusted his seatbelt and clicked it into place. After checking his driver’s side door mirror for traffic, he drove the truck down the street and out of view…My neighbor has worked in the daycare field for about thirty years. For the past 20 or so, she’s worked for the public school system after school daycare. She recently told me that she has never seen more disrespectful, disobedient, and misbehaving children as she sees today. Wake up parents…
  It is Friday and it is amazing outside. 

  4.6- I did have tons of stuff to put up here, but instead find my brain flying with thoughts of how great it would be if humans could, say once a day for ten-fifteen minutes, do cartoon stuff without any ramifications. You know, smash someone over the head with a frying pan and having them shake their head until the shape of their head is normal, again. Or maybe running off a cliff and standing mid-air before falling while making a funny “zing” noise. And how about having a bomb explode in front of yer face and the only damage is your nose relocating to the back of your head? Human evolution sucks.

  3.30- I just picked up Commando: The Autobiography of Johnny Ramone by Johnny Ramone. Now, I will not review this book for two reasons. 1) I do not review items I purchase (for the most part). 2) I love Johnny Ramone and my opinion is biased to love everything he accomplished. Hell, his skelatal remains could fart and I'd think it was the greatest thing ever. 
  And not minutes ago, as I waited for my daughter to get her arse out of school, I finished Nick Flynn's 2004 Another Bullshit Night in Suck City. I only recently heard of this book, which was just released movie form titled Being Flynn, and read it because it's written by a fella from my neck of the woods. End all be all, I really liked it. I think if you look into the book and possibly read it, you'll like it. 'Twill be interesting to see how "they" turned this memoir into a movie (though, I heard there is no mention that most of the book takes place in and around Boston, which is purdy lame). 
  Enjoy the weekend, and I leave you with the below:

  One time, a man said to me
  “Hey man, remember me?”

  3.16- Update this site with some sort of review or go to the pub....

  3.9- Longtime Askew Reviews contributor, Doulas Waltz, has penned a book about director Michael Legge. Have a lookie!
  Hardcore Boston Band Cd Review.
  You may or may not have noticed the lack of updates and if you have, yer correct! Sorry boners, no forhead stars for the obvious. Askew Reviews is still going strong, but I toggle my attention between the zine and my other writings. At the moment, I am working to close the door on two books of short stories, and I've also started what will one day be The Longsberry Letters Vol 2. Once the two short story books are completed, Askew Reviews 16 will leapfrog to the top of my brain.
  It's the weekend. You need to go live a life, now.

  3.2- Today, if my brain was a check, it would be miswritten, with “void” scrawled across it, and ripped into several pieces. And this is my update.
  Oh...Batman: Year One (animated DVD) is pretty good. It focases on the first year of Batman, but also spends a lot of time on James Gordon's origins and rise to commisionerhood. 
  There, I'm not totally useless.

  2.24- Check out this six minute short. I could listen to this guy all day and all night long.
  The weekend is here...go talk with someone.

Brain Scribbles...In Fast Times at Ridgemont High, Damone says to Rat, “When it comes down to making out, whenever possible, put on side one of Led Zeppelin IV.” Surely a statement that confuses the bejesus out of those 20 years and younger…Now that I think of it, I can not remember the last time I did a Pepsi fizzie nose burp…Tip for the youngins: think long and hard before getting that tattoo because years from now you may hate it. I so regret getting my tramp stamp. Although, it does look good when I bend over and it sits above my whale tail…There is a big difference between being out-spoken and being a loud mouth…If yer from my neck of the woods, The Fat Cat in Quincy, MA is a rather enjoyable bar/restaurant. Small, great brick walls, nice open ceiling, and tasty food at good prices. Also, note the awesome bright pink neon “Sully’s” sign next door. You just do not see signage like that these days…Ah yes, and if yer ever roaming around Boston (Copley Sq area) hungry, stop in at The Salty Pig. Great, and I mean great food and microbrews. The Tony Rocco pizza is downright killer…Screw the rest of my Brain Scribbles. I’m hungry…
  Let not the weekend be a killer weekend. Iinstead, you be the slayer of the weekend.

  1.30- Alllllllright, any and all who send me an email between 12AM -1AM EST right now with their mailing address and “don’t be stupid” get a free Bone Print Sixer. Past “winners” of similar posts can go f themselves…

  1.29- “It’s a chin, it’s a bum, it’s a chin, it’s a bum, it’s a chin, it’s a bum…” is what my daughter said while squeezing and releasing my cleft chin cheeks together over and over and over after she said “Dad, you’re chin is weird.”  Little does she know the number of women who have sipped Dom Perignon from my cleft chin or of the peace between warring nations I’ve brokered with my cleft chin or of the ohs and ahs directed towards my cleft chin when passing by the weaker chinned of the world or of the woman I was mugging it up with who said of my cleft chin, “Your chin looks and feels as if someone hit you in the face with a hatchet.”

Brain Scribbles...I wonder if I had a split personality, and one was female, if I’d be into my male side…It’s hard not to recognize the perfume worn by the woman who once tried to kill you every single time you smell it on another woman…When I was in elementary school and junior high, I carpooled with two other families to another town to attend Parochial school. One of the other families consisted of two girls, the oldest being ridiculously sensitive and a tad overweight. One day when in fourth grade, I playfully called her a “turkey” as she exited my mother’s car. I then called her younger sister a “turkey with gravy.” By the time I got home the phone was ringing and I was forced to sheepishly apologize. Sometime later, I called the turkey girl my “chum,” which is another word for buddy or pal (I had read the term in a Hardy Boys mystery book). She looked at me all hurt. Another kid in our carpool (who once re-ate a hotdog he threw up in his mouth) noticed this and said to her, “He said chum, not chunk!” Yes, once again I somehow had to apologize for this. Years later, I recall trying to make out with this girl, but stopped when her hair itched me as if I was kissing hay…I cannot help but wonder if long ago there lived a fella’ named Joshua who was known as the ultimate kidder…Sometimes, my cat looks at me like she wants to make out with me…Call me weak, but I find it difficult to eat a healthy breakfast when there’s leftover Chinese in the fridge…I have a lot in common with Ice Cube. In his song It was a Good Day, he sings, “Today I didn’t even have to use my ak” and today I wrote AK when mailing a book to a customer in Alaska… I am undecided when it comes to being a horse’s ass or a jackass…I find it annoying when someone witnesses or experiences something of which they approve and say, “That’s what I’m talking about!” when in fact they never said anything about it in the first place…With the dumbing down of America, it wouldn’t surprise me if the saying  “You learn something new every day” is soon extinct… Sometimes I wish I was in a motorcycle gang, that way I’d be into unattractive women and getting sex might be easier…It keeps me up at night wondering how much time is collectively, worldwide, wasted by people who try to put on two shirts at the same time and choose to struggle with the twisted inside shirt rather than put the two on separately…We all have that one movie (or more than one) that when we happen upon while channel surfing, we stop and watch no matter how many times it has been viewed. Though I will not stop to watch the entire movie, if I come across the movie Cocktail when it’s near my favorite seen, I will stop and wait for the scene. I’ve seen this scene, or sequence of events, hundreds of times. However, not five minutes ago, I noticed something new about this scene that I’ve seen hundreds of times. The part I’m writing about is when Tom Cruise’s character and his cougar wench walk into the art gallery, Tom’s slaps around the artist, and Tom and the Coug argue outside the gallery. Well, I just noticed when Tom and the Coug walk into the joint, the movie marquee in the background reads “Barfly,” the awesome movie written by Charles Bukowski (he’s also seen in the movie sitting at a bar). However, when the two argue outside with the same marquee in the background, Casablanca is up there…
  The weekend is here and it's bent over exposing its underpants waisteband just waiting for a wedgie it won't soon forget.

  1.20- Review of a book penned by the former git-tar-ist for Screeching Weasel.
  The weekend is here, and it just double dog dared you. 

  1.18- Make believe this website is blacked out until midnight tonight.

Alllllllright, any and all who send me an email btw 10:30PM -12:30AM est Jan 16/17 with their mailing address and “ohhh ya” get a free Bone Print Sixer.

  1.11- Though it happened Sept 4, 2011, I just found out that Askew Reviews contributor Hugh Fox has passed away. I emailed him a few days ago to check in and was told of the news by a family member. I never met Mr. Fox, but we did have some good back and forth emails. He was 79.

  1.6- Brain Scribbles...Though I’ve seen it in movies, on tv, and in pictures, I’ve never personally seen a refrigerator with an egg holder built into its door... If how I am in bed is any indication, I certainly would’ve been the quickest draw in the Wild West…Now that “we’ve” beaten second hand smoke to death, it’s time we take a hard look at second hand fart…If you’ve never, take a close look at the inside of your microwave oven…Tips for the aspiring bank robber: if you’re sporting ink, cover any and all of ‘em regardless of where they are. Ladies, remove all fingernail polish and cut the nails. And when entering/exiting the bank, slouch or leap when entering the bank’s entrance to help throw off the height gage placed along the door’s inside. Also keep in mind the counter can also give away your true height… I find it amusing whenever a vegetarian/vegan talks about what they ate, they always- always-describe it as “delicious,” like they’re trying to brainwash themselves…As I grow older, the only negative physical change I’ve noticed is I now wake up with bed head…I still think “willn’t” should be an acceptable contraction of “will and “not”…Now that I think of it, Ferris Bueller is a selfish jerk. And since I am on the topic, Chilly Willy is too…You will never listen to a more entertaining and informative interview than one conducted by radio man Ron Bennington (…A few hours before grilling pork chops, throw them in a large Ziploc bag with a quarter cup of soy sauce, quarter cup of water, tablespoon of brown sugar, and some minced garlic…If you own a cat (giant pain in the arse, by the way) and a laser pointer, you will never again find yourself bored…Judging my Facebook friends’ status updates, women are more likely to lose their cell phones…If the CPI was based on vitamin prices, people in America would be rioting in the streets…Robert Rothschild Farm Peppadew Pepper Cocktail Sauce is absolutely grand; little sweeter than “regular” cocktail sauce, with a very nice zing…If yer ever feeling sluggish, fergit those lame energy drinks. Simply listen to Dvorak’s Symphony No. 9, 4th movement and you’ll be good to go after only eleven minutes…I find people who ask me how I’m doing then answer for me annoying, “How ya doing? Alright?”  What if I am doing ok, but just not alright? God…After she told me how she can not dance to the music I listen to, I explained to my daughter that rock-n-roll isn’t always about its dance-ability, but always about how cool you feel inside listening to it…That’s right…I’ve never met a person carrying a pizza take out box who I didn’t like…
  The weekend has officialy turned on its "Open" light.

  12.30- CD Review
  The weekend is here. Leave now and go live a truly entertaining and rewarding life.

  12.26- A little birdie told me Root Beer with a shot of Whipped Cream flavored Vodka was tasty and I decided to give it a go. The little birdie told me Pinnacle was her favorite, but I couldn’t find a nip of that brand, so instead I bought Smirnoff. Yuck. Very synthetic tasting with an odd after taste. I highly do not recommend Smirnoff Whipped Cream Vodka. However, should I find a Pinnacle nip, I shall imbibe, because that little birdie is that hot.

  12.16- DVD review for you foodieheads, out there.
  I loathe basketball, I've never been to Cleveland, OH, and I know nothing about NBA star Lebron James. However, The Whore of Akron by Scott Raab (GQ and Esquire) is hilarious while taking a heartbreaking look at an avid (frustrated) Cleveland sports fan as Lebron leaves for another team. Reading Raab's "Tweet" in response to a "Tweet" by Lebron is worth the price of the book alone! Thanks to Mighty Ben, a Cleveland native, for lending me the book.
  The weekend…it won’t ring your doorbell…you must let it in on your own…open the door and welcome it and don’t complain if it doesn’t wipe its feet before entering your life…

Want that certain someone out of your life forever? Buy ‘em the Bone Print Press Sixer for Christmas and they’ll be gone…and just what is this Bone Print Press Sixer? A Nobody's Nothings, The Longsberry Letters, Track Wreckard 1-14, our two latest zines (Askew Reviews 15/14)and a bottle opener/wine key...$19.95 postage paid! Gosh, I feel like a New York City cable televison commercial for a uselss knick knack store newly opened by an immagrant propieter.

  12.9- Askew Reviews 15 and its publisher.
  Last night, I bought the brand spanking new Mighty Mighty Bosstones CD. However, I have yet to give it an ear, so these two sentences mean shat.
  See the 12.8 post.
  It's truly amazing how a single sip of a beer you haven't tasted in years can bring back memories of that very same beer. 
  My last book (Track Wreckards 1-14) details fourteen nights of drinking at my favorite local pub. Last night, my town's Administrator got pinched for OUI. When asked where he was coming from....ayup.
  DVD review.
  The weekend is here. 

We could use a few fine people to review CDs and DVDs. Check out the reviews (<===links be thatta way) to get an idea of what we cover. If yer interested, please email. Note; there is no pay, but you keep whatever you review and you will recieve comp copies of the zine in which your work appears.

  12.2- You can not stop and “smell the roses” if your nose is buried in your iPhone, Blackberry, Andriod, etc. Look up every now and then and take a sniff…

  11.18- As read in Askew Reviews 15, here a review of Marky Ramone's Marinara Sauce:
The logistics of buying this stuff isn’t convenient or inexpensive. Available at only a handful of stores, most people will have to order this marinara sauce via the Internet, by the case (twelve 24 oz jars). As I write this, the cost is $88 per case, which is expensive, but the cost does include shipping and 10% of net proceeds benefit Autism Speaks. 
  Putting the punk rock celebrity aside, Marky Ramone’s marinara sauce is pretty damn tasty. At first glance and spoon test, I thought it may be a bit on the “runny” side. However, the sauce, with its fine chucks of plum tomatoes, nicely adhered to the various pastas I used to test the product; pasta with lines and tortellini worked best. After devouring the bowl of pasta, just enough sauce was left on the bottom to sop up with bread. Marky’s recipe calls for lots of onions, which sweetly compliment the tomatoes. Olive oil, garlic, basil, oregano, and black pepper add intense flavors. Though it’s the next to last ingredient, the black pepper really adds a nice kick to this certainly bold tasting marinara sauce. - Denis Sheehan

  11.4- Here's a review of a small book consisting of four short stories.

  10.26- If you like the tv series Supernatural (one of my fav), you may dig the anime release based on the series, Supernatural; The Anime Series. Released earlier this year, the three DVD set includes twenty-two approx 22 minute shows and is pretty much in lock step with the live action version. Jared Padalecki voices Sam Winchester, but Jensen Ackles only voices Dean for the final two episodes (the ol’ schedule conflict). Introductions by Padalecki and Ackles precede the episodes. Extras include interviews with the show’s actors, creators, and Japanese voice actors. I’ve watched and I’ve liked. And, if you do indulge, be sure to watch each show through the end credits. Yer welcome.

  10.19- If you have some free time and want to check out some purdy good shorts, check out Sean Dunne's work: American Juggalo and other Very Ape Productions (I've watched The Archive and The Bowler and enjoyed). 

  10.14- Some genre classics are being re-re-re-re-released by Synapse Films, this time on Blu-ray, and since these movies have already been reviewed to death, I’ll skip that part and just provide the details (deets, to some). All include various extras that fans will dig:
The Exterminator- Blu-ray/DVD combo pack. Unrated director’s cut. First released in 1980. 201 minutes. Revenge flick at it’s goriest.
Maniac Cop- 85 minutes. 1988 release starring Bruce Campbell, written/produced by Larry Cohen, directed by William Lustig. Talk about a great threesome!
Frankenhooker- 85 minutes. Frank Hennenlotter’s insane 1990 release.

  10.7- Mighty Ben Hunter offers the below. When yer done, piss off and enjoy the heckers out of your weekend, you donkey!

  Gordon Ramsay's Farm & NBC Nightly News Viewers Must Have A Lot Of Goddamn Problems: Inconsequential Ramblings From Ben Hunter. 
  I think there ought to be an animated short called Gordon Ramsay's Farm. In one scene I can picture him holding an egg and glaring at an embarrassed looking chicken, shouting, "You call this a fucking egg?" Then he would smash said egg onto the ground and yell, "Get out!" Or maybe while he's milking a cow, he could squirt one of its teats directly into his mouth, grimace painfully and wail, "Curdled!" And then he'd hold his head in his hands and dejectedly say to the cow, "Just piss off, you." Anyhow, I think it's worth exploring.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
  I'm not in advertising, but commercials sometimes fascinate me. (Other interests of mine include gambling and drinking, so I suppose this one is relatively low on the harming myself scale). And while I tend to dislike most ads, I often think way too much about the point the advertisers are trying to make and if they actually achieve it, and I usually obsess about how they could have said things better. Once in awhile I even ponder what a block of commercials implies about how a particular show feels about the needs of its perceived audience. Like how the purveyors of televised NFL football seem to think all everybody watching needs is a new truck and some domestic light beer. (And how about both Dodge AND Coors beer using Sam Elliot for their voiceovers? Now every time I hear him shilling for the latest Dodge Ram, in my head I can also hear him extolling the virtues of Coors. Perhaps every new Ram could come with a case of Coors sitting on the front seat, waiting for the new owner to crack one open before roaring out of the dealership parking lot).
  So I was watching the NBC Nightly News recently and noticed that if the show's ad sellers are correct, most viewers are aging physical wrecks. I decided to do a little analysis over the course of two days, coming up with a likely target audience for each commercial block. Here's what I found:
  NBC Nightly News, Wednesday, September 7, 2011:
  Break one:
  1) Natural Gas Industry. Who the fuck is this supposed to appeal to? Awfully vague.
  2) Bayer Advanced. They claim this aspirin is good for combating general aches. Blah.
  3) Polident. Supposed to prevent bad breath. Good enough reason as any to get it if you have dentures, I suppose.
  4) Dodge Durango. Overly smug spot that touts this truck's pulling ability. Voiceover (not Sam Elliot, by the way) makes me naturally disinclined to like Dodge Durango.
  Target audience appears to be denture-wearing potential shareholders of the natural gas industry who experience general aches and pains on a regular basis and who need to be able to win a pulling contest against a Ford or Chevy.
  Break two:
  1) Pradaxa. Apparently this helps with irregular heartbeat better than another drug called Warafin. That said, the side effects, which the majority of this ad is dedicated to, sound horrible. It makes me feel that if I had an irregular heartbeat, I'd just take my chances with nothing at all.
  2) Zyrtec. Can help diminish allergy symptoms. Boring spot.
  3) Centrum Silver. They claim this vitamin will help old people live more active lives. Liars.
  4) Philips Colon Health. Great for constipation, diarrhea, gas and bloating. Probably embarrassing to buy, but I'm guessing people are happy once they've done it.
  5) Natural Gas again. Still vague. Again, why the fuck would viewers of NBC Nightly News care about this?
  Target audience appears to be older people who are, at least physically speaking, a complete mess. Oh, and perhaps they're also interested in the vagaries of natural gas.
  Break three:
  1) Dodge Durango once again smugly bragging about its pulling power. Narrator still sounds like an asshole. I now officially hate Dodge Durango.
  2) Cialis (for daily use). What depresses me about this is that it appears to be directed at guys just a little older than me who want to get it on but can't. The fact that there are lots of frightening potential side effects makes this whole sorry situation sadder.
  3) Zantac (not the afore-mentioned Zyrtec for those who might confuse the two). Gets rid of heartburn fast. Not an exciting spot, but it at least conveys its message clearly.
  4) Coal (CLEAN coal, to be precise). Apparently, it's the future. But again, who the hell cares and what could the average viewer of this program do about it one way or the other?  
  Target audience appears to be impotent heartburn sufferers who care about the difference between clean and dirty coal and who want to pull something in addition to their own pud.
  NBC Nightly News, Thursday, September 8, 2011:
  Break one:
  1) Ensure. This is marketed as a drink for people who just got out of the hospital. It supposedly (and somewhat mysteriously) helps you get back to your normal self. Depressing. 
  2) Bayer. Yesterday was about general aches and pains. Today it's playing the might-prevent-a-heart-attack card. 
  3) AAG. This one bothered me more than any other ad over these two days- even the most asinine ones. Fred Thompson (former Presidential hopeful and Law and Order star) is talking up the benefits of reverse mortgages to senior citizens. Insidious and potentially the most life-damaging. I now sort of hate Fred Thompson.
  4) Touch of Gray. Looks like the perfect mix of dark and gray hair will allow you to fuck a marginally younger but fairly attractive woman. Just imagine how unstoppable you'd be if you combined this with Cialis.
  Target audience appears to be older gentlemen who have recently been hospitalized for heart trouble who could use a little extra cash to impress and then bed their 40-something conquests.
  Break two:
  1) Uloric. What a horrible sounding word. This is medicine that is supposed to treat gout (whatever the hell that is) ever so slightly better than the leading (unnamed) brand of medicine also intended for this purpose.
  2) Beano. Take it before eating to prevent gas. Laughable premise, but the message is effective without trying to be too cute.
  3) American Express Card. Lots of benefits you might not realize. Sounds good, but I bet it's really goddamn expensive.
  4) Citrical. This is a calcium supplement which supposedly helps old ladies from breaking their legs. How noble. 
  5) Coal again. I still don't get it.
  Target audience appears to be wealthy, environmentally conscious older women who suffer from both gas and gout.
  Break three:
  1) Prudential. Looks like they offer retirement services that will increase a body's retirement income, but it's almost laughably vague.
  2) TENA. These are pads for people with bladder control problems who still want to have an active lifestyle. The amount of depressing commercials during the evening news really is staggering.
  3) Aleve. Is Jon Hamm the narrator for these commercials? Whether or not he is, it's a slick spot. If I needed all day relief from pain and only had to take one pill, I'd consider this shit.
  4) Pradaxa again. This is the same spot as yesterday. I still don't fully understand the point of this commercial. 
  Target audience appears to once again be old people who are falling apart.
  Whenever I get back from visiting another country, I like to take a look around me with fresh eyes and try to imagine how people from the place I just was would perceive my homeland. It can be a thought-provoking exercise (although sometimes it can just be boring, so I'll stop doing it in favor of thinking about something more trivial). So imagine what people from a foreign land would deduce about us while watching the evening news- aside from the content of the news itself making them feel like they'll probably get shot while they're here and that they're saying their blessings that their own government is not nearly as dysfunctional as ours, of course. All I can conclude is that they'd think that we're a nation of infirm oldsters with hazy aspirations of changing our energy consumption, and this thought makes me kind of sad. And since I'm a fairly regular viewer of the NBC Nightly News, am I destined to soon start needing to use these products myself? Maybe I should just stick to thinking about my next beer-fueled wild exacta bet and not worry about all this nonsense. But in the meantime, will somebody please pass the Cialis? And if I could get some Ensure to wash it down with, that would be great.

When I was a boy, an odd fella-a few years older than me-lived in my neighborhood. His name was Dale. Dale rode around on a bike that, instead of handlebars, had a steering wheel. One day, Dale rode up and down my street saying, “My ankle cookie” to anyone he passed. To this day, I have no idea what he meant.
  Years later, Dale was arrested for armed kidnapping and holding a woman hostage in a trailer.
  CD Review.

  9.2- Quick zine review: Slice Harvester #5- This digest sized zine reviews one thing and one thing only: pizza by the slice sold by various pizza joints located in New York City, NY. Reviews include a rating, slice price, and what the reviewer, and sometimes his friends, think of the pizza, the pizza joint, and the service…although, the key aspect of the review is the slice itself. Taste, cheese to sauce ratio, firmness of the dough are nicely described. Helping keep the reviews from being too pizza,  the reviewer, Colin, often flies off on non-slice tangents concerning his thoughts of society, people, music, past experiences, etc. While I absolutely love this zine, I was annoyed with Colin’s constant judging of those who are different than he or those with whom he disagrees. One instance has Colin berating patrons of a sleazy bikini bar while defending those who work there. Odd. And since Colin comes across as a bleeding heart Liberal (I could be wrong), I find this prejudice hypocritical because aren’t Liberals supposed to be against this type of behavior? Judging is judging, no matter how you “slice” it.  In any event, while I most likely will never eat pizza from anywhere Slice Harvester covers, I will continue to read this fine zine because I find it interesting, entertaining, and amusing as all get out.

  8.19- Jim Jeffries: Alcholocaust is absolutley hilarious. 
  Now piss off and go fuck yourself one hell of a weekend.

Full discloser: below mentioned Jesse Swenson is my ex’s husband’s son and I know the guy. That aside, I found his acting amazing because I know how he really is and can compare him to his character. And he’s good looking, can sing, and has a hot girlfriend. The prick!
  On Wednesday August 3, my daughter and I (along with my ex and her husband) hit Broadway to see The Addams Family play. In short, it is such a great time loaded with good music. Brooke Shields as Morticia is great, as is Roger Rees as Gomez. Rachel Potter (Wednesday), who I saw backstage and is hoooot, wonderfully flip flops between gothy gloom and happy sunshine face, while Jesse Swenson (Lucas) portrays the love struck “normal” kid from Ohio. Zachery James (Lurch) and Jackie Hoffman (Grandma) offer constant hilarity. The guy who played Fester is the understudy and was good, but I am not sure how often he actually suits up. Cool sets and even some funny ass puppetry simply piles things on an already stellar show.  The humor plays well for adults and young’ins, but there are a few jokes that shoot for the grownups while flying over the kids’ heads. The young kid who plays Pugsley, well, there’s something not right about that boy. Oh, the woman who plays the Native American ghost ancestor had me drooling and I want her to come to me.
  I highly recommend…

  7.27- I am off for a wee bit-o-travel...I'll leave you with this Boston band CD review

  7.18- Hobo with a Shotgun is great fun. Great fun, indeed!

I recently watched a few documentaries:
I Like to Kill Flies- 2004. In depth look at Shospin’s, a ratty little restaurant that lived in Greenwhich Village for about 30 years. This doc looks at the Shospin family, the joint, and their eventual move to a new location.
I Need That Record
- 2008. A look at the spiraling downfall of independent records store. Interesting with many good interviews. Years ago, I use to frequent about ten different indie record stores. All but one is gone, and boy do I miss them.
Man on Wire
- 2008. A look at Philippe Petit’s 1974 highwire walk between the World Trade Center towers. Truly amazing that he pulled it off, but this documentary is pretty dull considering the viewer knows the outcome.
The American Hobo
- 2003. Narrated by Ernest Borgnine, this doc gives a history of American Hobos leading up to current day (well, current to 2003) Hobos. I really liked the history info and old photos, but the nonsense of present day hobos is kind of stupid. The Hobos in the 20s, 30s, 40s had to be Hobos, these 2003 Hobos did it because they want to…big difference.
  It is Friday and you should not be looking at anything on the Internet, unless it's through the bottom of freshly emptied pint glass.

  7.5- If any of yous happens into the new Newbury Comics in the South Shore Plaza, please take a gander for the “free crap” area. If you see one, let me know. I was there a few days after the grand opening, talked with the manager, and they hadn’t designated an area for free zines, etc. I do thank you.

  6.23- Last night I was one restless mother f'er and decided to go on a late night walk, even though it was pouring rain. While walking, I thought about this awesomly funny book Greg Gutfeld's Lesson from the Land of Pork Scratchings.I read/reviewed it some time ago, but the book just sticks in my brain. I know Greg has since released another book...I think I shall...
  Here's a DVD review.

  6.17- Update for a pimp: Buy Askew Reviews 15 here...or buy the Bone Print Sixer, which includes my books and Askew 15, and more.

  6.14- Holy crap! The Wild Man of the Navidad is a great retro-throwback/homage film to those 70's Bigfoot and Legend of Boggy Creek movies...and it is amazing! So damn authentic (including the opening of a pull tab beer can!) and it'll have you wondering how these filmmakers pulled it off. Not a missed trick!

  5.27- Incase there's any doubt...Askew Reviews 15 is available.

  5.23- Askew Reviews 15.

  5.9- DVD Box set review.

  5.4- Ok...Askew Reviews 15 will be at the printers next week. 

  4.11- Here's a quick review of my latest book.
  Looking for content to fill Askew Reviews 15: short stories, flash (250 words or less), and small press book reviews! Spread the word to yer pals. Here's our submission page. Email me-

  4.8- Documentary.
  Weekend. Now. Piss off.

  4.7- I bet if Warren Zevon returned as a zombie, he'd alter his song "I'll Sleep When I'm Dead" to "I Stink 'Cuz I'm Dead."

  3.23- Fans of the band Sewer Trout will be interested in a little zine put out by two chaps out of Washington DC. The zine, called Sewer Trout, is total 17 pages consisting of stories, interviews, pictures, etc. Personally, I've never heard of the band, but after reading this zine, I am curious to hear them. Interested parties can email or

  3.17- CD review that'll make everyday seem like St. Patrick's Day.

  3.14- Hey South Shore (MA) movie goers; if you can, never you mind those megaplex cinemas. Try your best to see flicks at the independently run theaters in S. Weymouth and Scituate. Patriot Cinemas did not renew the leases and a local mom and pop picked them up. Sure, these two cinemas are not as fancy pants as those evil megplexes, but support them...and along with the movie ticket, buy some drink and eats.
  Even after all these years, I still easily believe Andrew McCarthy's character in St. Elmo's Fire is by far the most annoying movie character ever in the history of cinema (Jar Jar Binks and Philip Seymour Hoffman's character in Twister are slightly behind) who is also by far the most deserving of a slap. Not a punch. A slap. A punch signifies anger. A slap, disgust. And that character disgusts me. Still. A lot.
  Askew Reviews contributor Tim Relf has a piece over here. Give it a read!
  Ok, I've been a lazy sod concerning Askew Reviews 15, but it's coming and I think it's coming in a new size. 
  Though I am not going to review it because I purchased it, The Riverdales latest CD, Tarantula, is pretty damn amazing.
  Just listened to the sugary-yet violent- '63 pop song "By Boyfriend's Back" by The Angels and I can't help but wonder if the female is actually a cheating, lying whore willing to start a fight between men over cheap sex and her reputation. Really, if you think of it, the entire song is sung to the "bad" guy. Why isn't she signing to her boyfriend? Suspicious, indeed.
  Bone Print Press stuff: A Nobody’s Nothings, The Longsberry Letters, Track Wreckard 1-14…all by me and available at Dives: The Non-Fiction and Dives: The Fiction coming soon. End of summer brings Track Wreckard 15-?. And somewhere in between this mess, Askew Reviews 15 and a brand spanking new micro-zine.
If anyone out there wants to review my latest book, Track Wreckard 1-14, or know of someone who may be interested in the same, email me: Hit Bone Print Press for book info.
  Cellphones/smartphones have wrecked horror movies. Nowadays, the writers must work in scenes of annoyed characters trying, often repeatedly, and failing to get a signal because if they don't, there will always be a jackass viewer saying, "Why don't they just use their phone?" Now, we all must sit through and fritter away our viewing time to watch some fool on the screen hold their cellphone in the air and turn in circles while cursing. And let's not forget the up close shot of the phone's screen with NO BARS! Like we couldn't figure it out on our own.FU technology.

  Here's a book review covering a damn fine read!

  2.13- I normally do not pump the mainstream here, but will do so now. When it comes to John Mellencamp, I do not know much of his music, other than the radio hits I may've stumbled upon; Jack and Diane, Rain on the Scarecrow are two that come to mind. To write that I am not a fan of the guy would be unfair because I do not know enough of his work on which to base judgment. However, after I read an article about how he recorded his last album, No Better Than This, my curiosity piqued and I checked the CD out of my local library. I listened to it once, returned it to the library, and bought my own copy. It really is a cool disc. 
  For all you Lenny Lashley (Darkbuster, Lenny and the Piss Poor Boys) fans, I hear there are not many of these left, so order one...quickly. 

If anyone out there wants to review my latest book, Track Wreckard 1-14, or know of someone who may be interested in the same, email me: Hit Bone Print Press for book info.

  1.21- If yer a Facebook pal, then this is a repeat, but no one cares. My car was at the dealership the other day due to a recall repair. I picked it up and looked over the invoice. The email they are suppose to have on record is my Bone Print Press address, ‘' On the invoice, they have the email as ‘’ Now that’s an email address that can be taken several different ways and I now understand why the salesman who wrote down the address gave me a funny look.
  The latest from Social Distortion was releases last Tuesday (Jan 18) and it's a good one. A really good one. 
  Tell me, when did the dregs of society become a society of dregs? Pathetic. 
  Here's a CD review of Me First and the Gimme Gimmes latest.
  Weekend! Knuckle back and unbutton.

  12.30- We are accepting submissions for Askew Reviews 15.
Please see our submission page.
  Digital Video Disc review and a Compact Disc review.
  Happy New Year to you.

  12.17- 'Tis the season to be doing a lot of things, one of which should not be frittering your time away on the Internet. Go get a drink and mug it up with someone wearing a Santa hat.

  12.3- My newest book, Track Wreckard 1-14, is available. Please hit Bone Print Press for info.
  We are accepting submissions for Askew Reviews 15.
Please see our submission page.
  South Shore punks....Kermit's Finger...tonight...The Beachcomber in Quincy, MA.
  10.26- Holy crap, time flies! Submit your stuff (see 9.3)!

  9.22- Along with accepting submissions for Askew Reviews 15 (see 9.3), my newest book, Track Wreckard 1-14, is with the printer and will be available very soon.

  9.3-  Now reading for Askew Reviews 15. Please see our submission page for info.
  A few months ago (after research…June 7…actual date), I attended a punk show and plum done fergitted to write the review…so here it is, at least what I recall of that amazingly fun day (the small notebook that housed my thoughts/memories of the show was lost at the horse track a few weeks later…blame it on K-Mac).

‘Twas a rainy and mighty humid Saturday afternoon when a few pals and I parked the car in front of our friends’ house in Jamaica Plain , MA . We were meeting the gang here, and then walking around the corner to the venerable Midway Café for the show.
  After getting a quick tour of the condo, our hosts Eric and Kris offered us food and a “Dirty Ashtray.” Not sexual, the Dirty Ashtray is a can of Mexican beer with hot sauce and pepper doused on the top. When the can is opened the sprinkles flow into the can, resulting in a spicy dirty ashtray affect that lasts for a few sips and ultimately leaving you with the rest of a nasty can of cheap Mexican cerveza.
  Some time later, we trekked to the show and waited in line to pay the cover and get our booze wrist bands. As my friends entered before me, the door chick asked each if they were in one of the bands. However, when I approached her, she failed to ask if I was indeed a band member; read DORK. Personally, I always thought I’d be a good fit for a rock-a-billy band.
  The place was like an oven and about an hour later, the first band kicked off things. The Allston Pants played a good punk (Eric thought they were skate punk) set loaded with humorous lyrics and damn fine frontmanship by, well, the frontman. He bantered with the crowd like a pro, which included sitting me on my ass with the crowd laughing (and I was laughing, as well) and pointing at me...I deserved it as I started it with the dude. As they played, I noticed the mean looking bass player and his long wallet chain. This dude’s looks frightened me, until I noticed on his chain a CVS discount card; a normal guy or a tough looking guy who appreciates savings.
  Hey! I just remembered something. About five years ago, I had a nice little correspondence thing going on with Wendy James (Transvision Vamp, solo artist-entire cd written by Elvis Costello-and currently with a band whose name escapes me), and we agreed that she would fall in love with me, I’d break her heart, and she’d write/sing a song about it. How cool would that be? But, it still hasn’t happened! What the hell, man?
  Up next was the amazing punk band, The Numbskulls. Hailing from the Worchester, MA area, these guys-and gal- have been kicking tail for ten years (I know this because I am attending their 10 year anniversary show in a few weeks). The ‘Skulls are tight and play catchy punk that’ll make you love them. Also, bassist Lysie oozes sex with her stage presence, long hair,, nevermind. Now that I think of it, Alex, the singer/guitarist, is also damn good looking. In fact, if I was gay, I would so hit on him. But I’m not gay so I won’t…unless I’m drunk and he says something.
  Up next is one of my favorite bands, Kermit’s Finger. This show was their record release party and they smashed things. If you have not purchased their latest, Grudge (ehem…#4 on WMBR playlist for August), you are doing yourself a major punk disservice. I’m not going to go into this set as you should check out the link to my review of their latest album.
  Next, The Pandemics. These dudes were mighty good, but I know nothing of them other than they use to be a well adored and respected Boston band with another name; that I now fergit. The only reason I know this is because Mighty Ben talked with the lead singer after the set and asked if they use to band X and that he had one of their best songs on his iPod.
  The show ended. We were all sweaty. And we all went back to the condo for amazing food and drink. 

  8.27- Now reading for Askew Reviews 15. Please see our submission page for info.
  I done really thought I posted this DVD review a long time ago, but I didn't
  The weekend is here and it has called you a pussy...time to show it who's the boss, you pussy.

  8.6- Anybody out there drink or try Spiced Jack No94 Spiced Rum? If so, please share your thoughts with me...

  8.3- Live near a happenin’ record store, bar, strip joint, or dirty crack den (if yer lucky, all four) and want to help distro Askew Reviews 14? Let me know and I’ll send you a stack-o-fifty to drop in any of those fine establishments. Of course, if you say yes you must do so...after all, the vibes you send out, baby, are the vibes that come back…

  7.24- Just because I have to miss the show of the year, doesn't mean you have to.If you like punk rock, you must attend.
  Via Larry of Penis Fly Trap: The first bi-annual PENIS FLY TRAP show in 2010 will be a re-union with founding madman LARS PAUL LINDEN. To honor such a once-in-a-decade event we are going to make sure we play on a Monday in a place where it's impossible to park and you have to lug your equipment up a steep flight of stairs. That means Charlies Kitchen on Monday, July 26th. Lars is currently en-route by imaginary motorcade from a secret southern state and hopes to arrive in time for some last-minute rehearsals and alcohol tolerance exercises. But hey, it's just like rocking a bike and we will be a 4-Piece For A Night, with extra, extra vocals and extra extra bass. It may be insane, actually, but it will be fun in a gigantic way and you'll get to see us from behind in the mirrors while watching yourself watching us-my favorite thing about Charlies Kitchen, those mirrors. Since the place is kind of small, the mirrors give the room a sense of space (bands may be closer than they appear) and although the sound waves will, for the most part, remain invisible, maybe-just maybe-one or two will reveal themselves to the naked, rock-seeking eye. And if that's not fun enough KERMIT'S FINGER is playing, and THE CLASSIC RUINS, and just added to the bill, if not the flyer, WALK THE PLANK from Washington, DC. 
  Charlie's Kitchen is located at 10 Eliot Street in Harvard Square, Cambridge (Upstairs). I think cover is only 5 U.S. Dollars. 
  *Natural Disaster Alert: The last time Lars traveled a thousand miles to play a reunion show the whole city was canceled by 13 inches of surprise snow (you remember that fateful, Dec. 13th 2007 commute?) Well, since we're smart, we are taking an educated gamble that there won't be a gig-canceling snowstorm this July 26. However, be prepared for earthquakes, market crashes, and coordinated terrorism. But let's not use life-threatening, apocalypse scenarios as an excuse not to rock.

  7.23- Been thinking about Askew Reviews 15 and I could use a few reviewers; CD, DVD, Books. If yer interested contact me:
  Don't forget about Askew Reviews 14 or the Bone Print Special.
  It's the weekend, Mother FlimFlam.

  7.16- A few Friday nights ago, I was sitting on the front porch of my local pub enjoying a few too many pints. At around 11 PM, a police officer I kind of know-but not enough to know his name-approached me and whispered to me that Bobby Nyman had died earlier that night. I sat there stunned. Bobby Nyman was my town’s representative in the Massachusetts House of Representatives. Though I had written to Rep. Nyman a few times and even talked with him (in this very pub) concerning political issues more than once, I did not know the man personally. I disagreed with him and most of his votes, but I always admired his yeas or nays when it came to votes that showed his true character. I’m not going to detail these votes, but there are a few a year that test one’s true character; and he passed with flying colors. Rep. Nyman also did a lot of good stuff that flew under the radar; stuff that was not recorded nor reported by the media. I disagreed with this man on a political level, but admired him as a human being. Hearing of his death bothered me not only for this reason, but also because the man was only seven years older than me. At this time, I only knew of his death and not the cause. I later learned the details-even some not released to the public-but none of this will be discussed here.
   Admittedly, I was both bothered and saddened with the news. I left the pub and walked home.
   A few hours later, my ex-girlfriend Meaghan, with whom I am still very close, dropped by my house. A few days before, one of her best friend’s one month old baby died. Yes, one month old baby. The infant just died while taking a nap. For nearly 72 hours, Meaghan had been with her friend offering support and doing whatever else she could. Meaghan showed up exhausted, but talked about the situation for almost two hours. I could only listen and it hurt to hear her pain. She talked and cried until she passed out-more like collapsed- at about 3 AM due to emotional and mental exhaustion.
   As Meaghan slept, I continued to imbibe on alcohol, watch television, and even write some junk. However, my mind was not on whatever task was at hand because I could not escape my thoughts and memories of death. I recalled my first shock of death when Mr. Proctor, a teacher from high school, suddenly died. That was my first “death out of nowhere” experience. I also recalled a few years later when a classmate of mine was killed in a car accident. Memories, from when I was about five, of listening to my father take a phone call concerning his father’s death resurfaced. I remembered when one of my best friends called me to tell me about the suicide death of mutual friend’s brother. Two uncles dying, one sudden and one not, arose from the ashes of my mind. Visions of December 26, 1996 and my brother telling me of our Grandfather’s dying became real again. My Grandfather’s death was the first death that sent me into uncontrollable crying. December 27, 2006 returned as I recalled holding my Grandmother’s hand as she slowly died nearly ten years later to the day of her husband passing. The shock of a past co-worker’s sudden death (he was only a few years older than I) hit me, as did the news of another co-workers suicide attempt. Teary eyed memories of the only time I shed a tear over the death of a musician reminded me of driving down route 128 years ago and hearing over the radio the death of my guitar hero and inspiration, Johnny Ramone. And of course, memories of my father’s death became once again all too real.
   I was consumed with death and making this worse is the fact that I am not exactly the type of person who is in touch, or connected, with his emotions. So all this was kind of blowing me away in a few ways.
   At some point, I fell asleep in my daughter’s bed and awoke tired with a minor hangover. I woke up Meaghan (she was returning to her friend’s), hurriedly shaved, showered, and left to pick up my daughter. We had plans, along with the rest of my family, to attend my niece’s dance recital in Fall River , MA .
   I picked up my daughter and after driving away I tried to start a conversation with her. Now, my daughter and I get along in the best of ways, but right now she was more interested in a book than talking with me. Since there is no way a parent can ever demand their nine year old child to “put down that book!” I focused on driving, the radio, and thoughts of death.
   Thirty minutes later, we arrived at the dance recital and after pleasantries with the family, took our seats. Glancing over the program, I sighed as I realized the recital would be approx two hours long.
   I love my niece, all of my nieces and nephews...and my daughter, but these things can be torture sometimes.
   We watched a few numbers and they were good. Finally, the first piece including my seven year old niece started and it was awesome to see her up there dancing, and then it ended.
   I looked over at my daughter and she was still reading that book, so at least it wasn’t just me.
   A few numbers later and I was ready to die.
   I read the program and saw the next dance was being performed by 4-5 year olds to the theme from The Monkees (60s band/tv show that ran 1966-1968). One by one the shadows of little girls walked across the dimly back lit stage guided by adults until into position. Moments later, the stage brightened with lights and standing before the crowd were about twelve little girls dressed like little monkeys: ears, monkey feet, and even tails.
   Over the PA system played the original Monkees theme while the girls performed little kicks and arm movements, “Here we come, walkin' down the street. We get the funniest looks from ev'ry one we meet.”
   And then girls joined the chorus with screaming singing voices, “Hey, hey, we're the Monkees. And people say we monkey around. But we're too busy singing , to put anybody down.”
   For the rest of the song, the girls sang along with the chorus and it was simply the most amazing and cutest thing you ever watched and heard.
   My mood turned 180 degrees and how could it not? I had just seen everything that is wonderful in life.
   The rest of the recital flew by and in the lobby I greeted my niece by grabbing her under her arms, tossing her into the air, catching her, and finally kissing her on the forehead while telling her how proud I was of her.
   I glanced over to my daughter and there she was sitting on the ground reading that darn book.
   About thirty minutes later, we all arrived at my sister’s house for an after recital party: my sister and her dancing daughter and son. My brother, his wife, and their three kids, my mom and stepdad, my two newly discovered sisters (another story all together), and my daughter and I.
  However, during that thirty minute drive, something went nutty somewhere along the line. At the house, my brother got into an argument with my sister (they’re twins). A bit later, my mother argued with my sister, who was more on the defensive rather than offensive. Then, my brother and mother starting chirping back and forth over something.
   It was basically your stereotypical Irish family reunion moment. Everyone was back and forth with each other, besides me.
   After a while, I grew tired of the tension and asked my daughter if she wanted to take a walk to the beach-my sister lives three minutes from the ocean. Together, we walked to the beach and enjoyed the rolling waves, sea shells, and the awful sounds of the awful cover band playing the seaside bar.
   So, I suppose the morel of this story is when you are feeling down and being thrashed about with negative thoughts…hey hey, just be a Monkee.

Enjoy the weekend, now.

  6.18- The fact that one of my best friends wrote this review of my book will not stop me from linking to it...Shut up!

  6.11- Tomorrow is the record release show (see 6.7 post) for this record.
  One of the many TV shows I record using my beloved DVR is American Dad. I enjoy the show, as does my daughter. Last Wednesday, I walked in on Reilly watching American Dad during a scene where Steve (the cartoon son) pulls himself from the muddy ground, screams, and proceeds to pull his friends from the same hole-all while screaming. Reilly asked me about that scene, but I honestly knew nothing about it.
A few days ago, I recorded the movie Raising Arizona (1987, starring Nicolas Cage and Holly Hunter) and watched it last night. By gosh, by golly, and creepers crow wouldn’t you know, 22 minutes into the movie, John Goodman pulls himself from the muddy ground, screams, then pulls his brother from the same hole-all while screaming! 
Not only is that weird…that’s weird with a beard.
  It's the weekend.

  6.7- Now is the time to check out the Bone Print Special! For $15 (includes postage!), you'll get A Nobody's Nothings, The Longsberry Letters, Askew Reviews 14, and a bottle opener/wine key. Even if yer a cheap prick, this'll get your attention.
  Kermit's Finger will be playing a show/release party for their newest album, Grudge, on Satterday June 12 at The Midway Cafe in Jamaica Plain. 4-8, all ages. Also on the bill are The Numbskulls, Red Invasion, and The Allston Pants. I'll have a review of the album posted on Friday.
  Here's a DVD review.

  5.18- After much delay (not my fault, surprisingly), my newest book is now available. Check out The Longsberry Letters.

  4.30- Holy crap! I had to check the calendar to see the date it really April 30? Someone snip time's wings, please!
  If you're around the South Shore tomorrow night and longing for some good local live music, head on over to Players on VFW Dr in Rockland, MA. SouthBound and Twang 'Em High will be slinging some mean Southern Rock dueling sets. Now, I am not a fan of Southern Rock nor have I ever heard SouthBound, but Twang 'Em High is my favorite local band and seeing them is always a great time. Twang plays their southern rock, covers and originals, as if produced by Quentin Tarantino ala From Dusk to Dawn. Music starts at 9 and, oh, there is no cover charge.  
  While walking to the post office this afternoon, I thought about how, in reality, monsters are generally made up in human form: various levels of criminals, bad people, and all politicians. Since monsters are only human, while they may disgust or shock, they’re really no big deal. However, how do you think we would react if a real monster attacked some city? How would you react if you were startled awake by loud noises and odd vibrations and looked outside your window to see Godzilla stomping in your direction? Really, it’s not like you could shut off the tv or lock the doors to make the monster go away.
  Various Updates: I have approved the proof for The Longsberry Letters and they are being printed, I hope, as I type this. I have started to layout Track Wreckard 1-12 and still finishing up Dives. I hope to have TW and Dives out this summer. Concerning Askew Reviews 15, I am thinking about a deadline, but haven't completed that thought, yet.
  CD Review.
  The weekend is here and it mocks you. Teach the weekend a lesson so it never dare mock you again.

  4.13- Book Update: If all had gone as planned, The Longsberry Letters would be available at this very moment. However, the printer has fallen two weeks behind. The printer is supposed to mail me the proof today which I’ll approve or not. After that, it “should” take 7-10 business days. We’ll see. 
  The printer I am using for this book is new (used them because they are local) to me and I had hoped to use for my next two books, but so far I am not all that pleased with them. However, I’ll wait until I see the end product to make my decision.

  4.9- The other day, for some reason, I was reminded of a song written by Barry Gibb (Bee Gees) and performed by his younger brother Andy: (Love is) Thicker than Water. Of course, the awful song’s lyrics repeated over in my brain until they finally gushed from my mouth…”Love is higher than a mountain…love is thicker than water…”
  As I thought about the lyrics, I began to think just how dumb the above line is. Ok, the higher than a mountain works, but thicker than water? Water isn’t thick, at all. During this amazing thinking session of mine, I thought Gibb should have replaced “water” with something like “corn syrup” or “molasses.” However, Barry Gibb had 800 hits during the late 70s, who am I?
  While thinking of how to rewrite the song with molasses, I was reminded of the great molasses flood of 1919. In January of that year, a huge tank of molasses burst/collapsed in Boston ’s North End sending over 2 million gallons of gooiness tidal waving into every nook and cranny of the area. The disaster killed 21 people and caused all sorts of damage. I’ve been told tour guides refer to this event as “The Boston Molassacre.”
  While thinking of the molasses tank collapse, I was reminded of a story about my Uncle (died about ten years ago) and how, when a teen in the late 50s early 60s, he had saved his drunken friend from drowning in a huge pickle vat. Though the story is not 100% clear in my head, I think my uncle and his buds were out drinking and decided to imbibe on a late night snack of pickles. So, the motley crew broke into the pickle factory (which was located somewhere near Dorchester , MA ) and crunched away. However, one drunken lad went head over heels into the vat and partook in the drowning process. My uncle somehow grabbed the guy by his hair and yanked the human pickle from its brine.
  While thinking about my Uncle, I was reminded of the time he taught me the economic law of supply and demand using a package of lamb kidneys he was about to devour. I was ten and both enthralled and grossed out by the slimy little bean shaped kidneys.
  Funny how memories can link together, sometimes.  
  Here's a DVD review.

  3.24- About a month or so ago but probably longer, I received in the mail a package of zines hailing from Brandon, Manitoba located in our dearly beloved neighboring country, Canada. Included in the package were issues 7, 8, 9, and 10 of the monthly rag, Ritshag. Ranging in page count, Ritshag is a half-size zine loaded with columns, band interviews, various reviews (music, movie, zine, etc), art, and cartoons. In other words, it's packed with an assortment of entertainment. Overall, I enjoyed the writings though a few pieces did come across as a wee bit preachy for my taste. From my understanding, current issues are free around Brandon and can be purchased via mail. Issues are also available for free in PDF format off their website (which I employed for issues 11 and 12). Good stuff, check them out!

  3.19- Here in the Northeast, Massachusetts to be exact, the winter has been a pretty good one (in a negative way) and last weekend sucked because from Friday through Monday we were pummeled with 10 inches of nonstop rain. Today is a simply beautiful day. Even the grouchiest of grouches are looking up to the sky and saying, “Got-dang today is simply a beautiful day.” It is warm and it is sunny. Because of this, I wish not to waste any more time remaining indoors to properly update the site. So instead of telling you to piss off, I’m telling myself to piss off.

  3.12- DVD review...and now the weekend!

  2.26- I am working on the reprint of The Longsberry Letters. It should be available, soon.
  My daughter turns 9 this weekend. For those who have followed Askew since issue 1, I am sure this news makes you feel aged. 
  Go enjoy something.

  2.19- I usually do not post reviews here until after they appear in the print version of Askew Reviews. However, this zine simply fits all too well with current events.
    Go away. It is Friday.

  2.12- Even if you are not into poetry (like me), you'll like Ed Galing.
  It is time to ditch all else and grab a pint.

  2.8- For those interested, Track Weckard 10 is found on

  1.20- Ladies and Gentlemen, The Wages of Sin.

  1.15- Though I've been listening to and loving the CD for a while now, I don't think I've ever mentioned what a great listen it is: Lenny and the Piss Poor Boys.
  I recently purchased the latest from The Mighty Mighty Bosstones and really dig it. I haven't really enjoyed their last few releases, but Pin Points and Gin Joints is damn fine. My favorite tune off the CD, at the moment, is "Too Many Stars."
  Last week, Gutty over at GrungeCake Magazine called me and asked me a few questions concerning Askew Reviews and my book. It's an audio interview.
  What's this? Oh, a DVD review...remember those?
  Even though I do, Fridays never get old. 

  12.21- The Rakish Cad, Askew's resident advice columnist, has worded.

  12.16-  Askew Reviews 14 is almost gone. Better git'cherself one, now. Now!

  12.4- And here, ladies and gentlemen, is one review that covers two books.
  As you know, the weekend is here and I've me two hard boiled eggs pickling in a jar full of pepperoncini vinegar that'll be ready for my Saturday night trip to the local fav to see a great band. Ayup, it's going to be one of those weekends: a pickled eggs weekend. I hope your weekend is just as good.
  Piss off, will ya, already!

  11.13- Dissecting an Insult
       Fairly recently, a woman referred to me as a “dickhole.” Due to several factors, this little event caught me a bit off guard and surprised me in several ways, the first being the work itself: dickhole. Now, I honestly can not recall ever hearing or reading this word. I’ve heard peehole, but that was spoken by my doctor when he was giving me some routine STD tests as part of my annual check up/physical. Saying “dickhole” takes a little bit of thought as it’s so easy to stop at the word “dick” or to say the ever popular and far more universal “asshole.” In other words, the term “dickhole” doesn’t come easy and the woman refused to take the easy out with a pedestrian insult.
Secondly, I am not sure which is worse, being called a dick or a dickhole. When I am verbally attacked, I always try to take the positive out of the assault. If she had called me a dick, I would have turned it into a good thing. So, I’m a dick. I just happen to have a dick and I like my dick. My dick and I have been through some very happy times together (and a few I’d rather not discuss). My dick is something. It is real. So, if I am a dick then I must be someone. I must be real. Being called a dick certainly means that I am a somebody!
However, she called me a dickhole. What is a dickhole? A dickhole is truly nothing. It’s a hole and even though it exists, it has no substance.
A dick is something. A dick is there and you can grab it.
A dickhole is part of a dick and an important part of the dick, but in the end it’s just empty space…most of the time.
Is being called a dickhole worse than being called a dick? If you team the extra effort of using the word dickhole with the fact that dickhole is the name for empty space, I’d have to say yes.

  11.8- Askew Reviews now has a Facebook Fan Page. Now you have someplace to tell us how much you loathe us. 

  11.7- Track Wreckard IX.

  10.30-Psychologists often say a parent’s childhood influences can affect their adult life and/or how they parent their own children, good or bad, years later. Examples: a child of an alcoholic becoming an alcoholic or an abused child abusing his/her own children when an adult.
As the parent of a young girl, I think I may have inflicted my daughter with something that tormented me as a child.
My name is Denis. Most of the time, the name Denis is spelled Dennis. Growing up, I was never able to buy a name license plate for my bike. I was never able to buy plastic mugs, key chains, pencils, etc. sporting my name. You know those swivel stands, usually found in souvenir shops, loaded with pre-personalized items that often bring happiness to children? Well, those damn things only brought me disappointment and a grumpy face. Though I always searched for the elusive “Denis” item, I never found one.
I remember as a child my mother buying a “Dennis” bicycle license plate and altering the NN to look like N. Try as she did, the resulting N looked retarded and I refused to put it on my bike.
This may seem ridiculous to you, Bob, Tom, Mary, and Susan, but to me it was an annoyance that continues to haunt me to this day-yes, I still look.
Ladies and gentlemen, I have made the above true for my daughter, Reilly. The influence has become reality.
Before Reilly was born, my then wife and I settled on two names for our child and we agreed to pick the winning name after the birth. My name for the kid was Reilly and my wife’s choice was a “normal” name.
Though the final name was a joint decision, you really can not blame Reilly’s mother because her name is a “normal” name and I am sure she was unaware of my childhood trauma. Why did I choose a name guaranteeing Reilly a lack of pre-personalized novelty items?

  Along with their annual Fright Fest airing this Halloween weekend, AMC TV is hosting streaming versions of several cool, old school B horror movies; including the awesome Werewolves on Wheels!
  The weekend is here and it wishes to be harshly treated.

  10.13- Askew Reviews 14 is available and it looks mighty fine. Buy a copy and it'll help you look better, smarter, and even sexier. Albeit with inky fingertips.

  10.9- Askew Reviews 14 will be available next week. I'll post more later.

  9.25- Saturday, September 26th at O'Brien's (3 Harvard Ave in Allston) featuring: PADDED HELL(9:30), KERMIT'S FINGER (10:15-ish), THE EGOS (11:15 ish) and PENIS FLY TRAP (midnight fifteen-ish).
  Now piss erff. 

  9.18- Though I shant review it, Surveillance (stars Bill Pullman, directed by Jennifer Lynch) is a good movie.
  I did review The Medveds' latest CD.
  It is Friday.

  9.14- Track Wreckard VIII. 

  9.11-The Ad deadline for Askew Reviews 14 is Sept 30, 2009.
   Send your black and white ad to:
   Ad Rates:
   Full (8x11) - $40
   Half- $30
   Quarter- $20
   Prices double if you’re a major studio/label
   Please make checks/money orders payable to Denis Sheehan.
   Paypal to:
   Print run is 5000.

  9.10- While I sod off, go watch some Kermit's Finger: Part 1, Part 2
  And....check out Bad Lieutenants and Drago at The Midway Cafe Sept 12.

  9.2- Building Askew Reviews 14. Go away.

  8.14- Here's a CD review of a band (and quick Q & A with its singer) that has made me realize should I ever start a band, it will be a rockabilly band.
   Don't fergit: Deadline for Askew Reviews 14 is Aug 31, 2009!
   This here is funny.
   It is Friday. When yer done with work, deep six your computer, your cell, and all other little battery powered invasions of privacy...the only thing you should be looking at is the bottom of a glass, bottle, or can...and my book, of course. I'm right, and you know it.

  8.12- Fans of Flogging Molly are most likely well aware of the Nathen Maxwell (bass) songs on the CDs; Queen Anne's Revenge being one (and perhaps my all time fav). In the great news category, Nathen has formed a side project, Nathen Maxwell & The Original Bunny Gang, and will release a CD come August 18. I am joyed. They are also touring, but not coming close to Boston. I am unjoyed.

  8.10- True or not, this is funny and brings back memories!

  8.1- Deadline for Askew Reviews 14 is Aug 31, 2009!

  7.31- Book Review, and for creepers crow, read the 7.27 entry!
  I'll be setting a new deadline for Askew Reviews 14 next week. 
  It is time. It is Friday.

  7.27- Hey fellow Massachusetts booze bellies, be sure to stock up before the new 6.25% tax on al-key-hall takes effect on Satterday, Aug 1. Now that's a public service announcement. Bottoms up!

  7.11-  Track Wreckard Vol. VII on

  7.10- I know I’ve been slacking with this site and that’s because I’ve been slacking with this site. No excuses. However, wheels are turning in the background concerning several things so I haven’t been all that much of a lazy sod. Really.
   I often wonder if someone who has said to themselves “Feet don’t fail me now” before fleeing an uncomfortable scene has felt the sting of disappointment by having their feet fail them at that particular moment in time, and blamed their feet.
Book Review
CD Review.
DVD Review.
  It is Friday. Now go away.

  7.1- More me news: Denis Sheehan, author of A Nobody's Nothings and Askew Reviews publisher, is interviewed over at The Writing Shift.

  6.19- I’ve me a short story in the latest issue of Chiron Review. It’s a print only journal. Visit their site for info.

  5.26- Track Wreckard Vol. VI on

  5.22- Happiness is drinking in a darkened, maybe windowless, pub emerging several hours later to the welcoming sun and feeling its warmth on your now fuzzy head.
  It is Friday. 

  5.15- The Pity Whores are a pop punk band out of Foxboro , MA . Dave Blais, who has reviewed a few CDs for Askew Reviews, plays in The Pity Whores. What’s the point, you ask? Well, The Pity Whores are playing The Jerry Springer Show on May 20 so be sure to tune in for some white knucklin' fun. Yes, The Jerry Springer Show. Here's a lil' piece about it in The Boston Globe (one of the world's worst newspapers). I can think of no great honor, honestly. Playing the Springer Show I mean, not being mentioned in The Boston Globe....I really liked The Wrestler...It just seems right and ok when an ugly person cheats on an ugly person with another ugly person...One of my favorite bands, Even in Blackouts, has called it quits, but also released a new CD. I've ordered mine and eagerly await its arrival...There's nothing more tragic than a listless kitchen floor...Imagine if humans never stopped growing and the only we we died was when we reached the earth's atmosphere and burned our heads off...I've decided to spend more time on coming up with a new letter or two for the English alphabet...Sometimes it's easy to know when to personally pull the plug on a television show, other times it's not so easy...I don't think many people would tuck in their bed sheets if the bottom of mattresses were made out of razor blades.
   It is now time for you to go do whatever it is you do that puts a smile on that forked up face of yours: drink, read, music, writing, masturbating in the mirror while screaming your mother's name, eating, cutting your arm to allow today's pain to freely flow, purge, or going here to buy my book. For it is Friday.

  5.11- The deadline for Askew Reviews 14 was May 15. Key word: was. The deadline has been extended to some other date. 

  4.29- Holy crap! Where did the past 19 days go?
  Askew Reviews 14: The call for submissions is on...

  4.10- The other day, I post the following on my Facebook page: “…thinks it would be nipper-jj, man, if men could knock up women by simply giving them a special look, and there would be no way of proving who did the knocking. “So, you won’t have a drink with me, huh? (pause) There you go, now you can’t drink for nine months. See ya!” And the woman’s only form of birth control would be to wear lead lined granny panties.”
  A bit later, an old friend commented on how wrong the comment is. This got me thinking.
  Granny Panties. Men (some lesbians, perhaps?) are typically horrified by Granny Panties, but if you think of it, this should not be the case. First of all, if a man is with a chick and she allows him to spot her in her Granny Panties, then who cares because if she’s letting him see her in her undies, then most likely they’re coming off and if they’re not coming off (which would hopefully be the case should the female be a sister, cousin, etc), why should one care about her underwear?
  Second of all, Granny Panties are called Granny Panties because that’s what you hope and want your Grandmother to employ as undergarments, as opposed to a thong or something crotch less. Am I right or am I right?
  Besides, I think using the name Granny Panties is just a way of enhancing the stories you tell your mom about the times you got laid.
  It's Friday...go git'cher Granny Panties!
  Don't fergit about 14's deadline and submission info!

  4.3- Even though they are allowing me in, all the cool people will be in Jamaica Plain , MA tomorrow at 4 to see Chanticlear / Jonee Earthquake Band / The McGunks / Kermit’s Finger / The Paraplegics at The Midway. $5/all ages. You'll be out by 8 and well primed for the rest of your debauchery filled night... I just finished watching the fine HBO series Deadwood and really think Richardson deserves his own mini series, if not exclusive show...Many of the bits in this season's Family Guy episodes are running way too long, so I think, anyway...I recently received a pornographic move to review titled, "Cougars 2." The female cast are aged in their early thirties with one being thirty-nine. God...There is nothing funnier than a person flippin' the bird to something nonhuman... Instead of "an apple a day keeps the doctor away," it would be better if "a cheeseburger a day keeps the doctor away" was the rule...It has arrived and the time is now. Forget it all and live. The weekend is a nonjudgmental beast. It is our duty to rape it and leave it for dead. Along with its rebirth in seven days, it will forgive and forget.

  3.31- Check out our Submissions info. 

  3.25- Askew writer Mighty Ben Hunter was once in a band, The Medveds. Their last release was almost 9 years ago. They broke up shortly after. Now, they have a website as they prepare to release another CD:
  Askew Reviews is looking for a few new faces to review DVDs. Please look over our site to see what type of crap we cover.
  If yer looking to review Tom Cruise’s latest or the upcoming Transformers movie, you’ll be disappointed. Instead, you’ll get old fare grindhouse erotica, horror, and other low budget/independent releases.
  There is no pay.
  If interested, please send a very brief bio and samples/links to samples of reviews you’ve written.

  3.17- Check out a poem I, Denis Sheehan, wrote over at Gloom Cupboard. It's called Slowly Lonely is the last one on the page. They certainly practice "saving the best for last." They do too!

  3.16- Track Wreckard V now up over at Double You Double You Double You Dot Bone Print Dot Com, for those who like this nonsense.

  3.6- Piss off already, it's Friday.

  3.4- Urinal Gum 7- this pocket zine may be small and compact in size, but its content packs a mighty punch of humorous and possibly (if you’re a PC wussy) offensive content. In today’s overly sensitive zine world, reading a zine with a little slap was a definite whiff of fresh air as too many choose to coddle their cliques rather than provoke. No, jagoff, the “offensive” stuff isn’t out of hatred, but instead humor. Someday, everyone will know the difference. Urinal Gum 7 consists of a few letters, few pieces, and a few reviews that had me sporting an ear to ear grin and left me wanting more. Hey, I enjoyed this zine so much, it made my Track Wreckard IV! Details: Urinal Gum 7. 42 pages (approx 5.5”x4.5”). Available for $2 within US/$3 outside. P.O. Box 1243 , Eugene , OR 97440.
  Apropos of zero: Why do all female burps sound like helium burps and/or midget burps...and in some cases, small dog burps? Feeegin' uncanny!
  Here's a book review!

  2.23- Feast, Feast 2, and Feast 3 are required watching for the gore fan and for those who like stuff over the top. Such fun...

  2.18- Those who know me are well aware that I do not high five. No matter the situation, I do not high five. When those sitting in the row in front of me at Red Sox or Bruins games jubilate over a run or goal and try to high five, I refuse. If my daughter is excited and tries to high five, I turn the other cheek. Nieces and nephews get the same. Women after sex…well, there’s no opportunity for high fiving because the female is typically throwing up or in the shower crying. Even my crafty brother will try and fake me into a high fiver from time to time. Doesn’t happen. For years, a guy (RIP) I worked with tried the same. Failed every time. However, and this is a big however, last Wednesday night, I high fived over the table while eating with my ex-manager/friend at The Cheesecake Factory. You see, I hadn’t seen her in almost three years and was very happy to hang out with her and she just threw it up there mid conversation and I, shamefully, returned it. I know! And, and, and it’s not like I did it thinking maybe it would lead to sex because she’s a lesbian. This has really shaken me up and I can not believe I did it. I wonder if there’s a support group for this kind of stuff?
   The Sinful Dwarf is finally receiving a well deserved and legit US release. When I typed this, I thought I had a review (appeared in an early Askew Reviews) of this flic and was going to link to it, but I can not find it. I know I have it somewhere…Anywho, it’s a 1974 Eurosleeze/shocker about a crazy dwarf and is one zany movie.

  2.9- Three "issues" of my Track Wreckard have been posted, in PDF format, over on Bone Print Press. These silly things were written after a lot of drinking and are unproofed. One and two have been around and had been posted elsewhere, but three is brand new to the world. If you thought my book had typos....

  1.30- Mighty great fun, indeed! You must partake.
    I just finished the Screamland comics (issues 1-5, Image Comics) and found the series rather grand. Frankenstein's Monster, the Wolfman, the Mummy, and Count Dracula are basically unemployed (due to CGI and slasher movies) and dealing with various issues, but are soon reunited to star in a new movie. Entertaining story, funny stuff, and great art...
  Time to start thinking about your written submissions for Askew Reviews 14!
  I'm busting it to get my second book finished, but let us not fergit about my first book over at Bone Print Press
  More selfish news: I've me a piece in the latest Gonzo Parenting Zine.
  Here's a DVD review for those who dig women. 
  Time for you to leave this screen and go do stuff.

  1.16- I think, had he lived to a seasoned age, Heath Ledger would've looked like Harvey Keitel. 
  Here's a book review.
  Enjoy the weekend.

  1.14- And here is a DVD review.
  This year's AVN Awards (held Jan 10) included a new category, "Clever Title of the Year," and here are the nominees: 
  Strollin' in the Colon
  America 's Next Top Tranny
  Bareback Mount Him
  Charlie Wilson's Whore
  Daddy! Please Stop F*cking My Friends!
  Get That Black Pussy, You Big Dick White Bastard Mutha F*cka
  Granny Is F*cking Grampa's Fanny
  Hairy Movie
  I Was 18 50 Years Ago
  Leave It in Her Beaver
  Love Squirts
  My Daughter Went Black and Never Came Back
  Oh No! There's a Negro in My Mom!
  Sasha Grey's Anatomy
  Show Me Where It Squirts.
  And the winner: Strollin' in the Colon.
  I found this to be hilarious, which is why it's posted.

  1.2- Cheers to the New Year!
   I'm being nice and putting a DVD review link here just incase you do not want to read my below blathering.
   December 31, 2008 saw the likes of a fairly mean storm that dropped almost 10 inches of snow on top of   Massachusetts , including my South Shore town. Once the storm ceased at approx 7pm and my driveways were clear, my daughter Reilly and I jaunted off to a nearby hill (dubbed “Big Hill” by Reilly) for some night time sledding.
   The sledding was fun, but since the snow was extra light and fluffy, the coasting was kind of slow going riddled with flake blowback. However, hauling up and down the hill made for one early bed time on this New Year’s Eve.
   Come 9 AM the next morning, we were back out hitting Big Hill. It was cold and very windy. At one point, the wind stole Reilly’s sled and threw it all the way back up the hill pinning it against a chain link fence. One chap wasn’t as lucky as his sled was thrown over the fence and carried across the baseball outfield to about second base. As the kids went up and down, I built a nice ramp that became fairly popular.
   Two hours later, we headed back home frozen solid.
   3 PM and we’re making our first run down a now crowded Big Hill. The ramp I had built earlier was still alive, but needed some help so I rebuilt it. While the age range of the kids sledding varied, I noticed an awful lot of kids five and younger enjoying the hill with their parents. However, try as hard as they did, it was almost impossible for the youngins to enjoy themselves as the parents continually yelled, “Are you alright? Are you alright?” It was insane. Most of the time a kid would simply roll onto his or her side but the parents reacted like a partial decapitation had just occurred.
   The one time a kid did get hurt, and I mean it hurt me just to see it, was due to an overzealous adult. Since Big Hill was littered with kids on sleds, the puffy snow had become more slick and hard. One guy about the age of 45 placed his nephew on a saucer sled and not only gave him a monster shove down the hill, but he spun the lil’ bugger as if he were trying to get into the Price is Right’s showcase showdown. As the kid went screaming, both in velocity and lung capacity, down the hill, the spin was too much for him as centrifugal force tried to quarter his legs and arms from his torso. At this point, the guy was running down the hill after the life sized pinwheel. As the screaming kid neared the end of the smooth run, he hit a rough patch of snow that knocked the saucer sled about causing the boy’s head to slam several times against the hardened snow. There was some blood, tears, and mild swelling, but after taking a break, the kid continued his sledding enjoyment.
   7 PM and Reilly and I are making our last trip to Big Hill for the day. When we arrived, it was dark, but the clear sky allowed the moonlight to brighten up the snow covered terrain. Also, Venus was brightly shining and really standing out in the winter sky. There was one other family using Big Hill; a husband and wife, an older kid maybe 12, and a small toddler about 4. As I repaired the ramp again, I over heard the father constantly asking the 4 year old if he’s ok. Ug. On the other hand, the guy was totally ignoring the older kid, who later called the guy “Steve,” and was obviously anther man’s child. I found the guy’s constant babying of the little kid funny only because as he asked the child face to face about his well being, he was smoking a cigarette and blowing the smoke into the kid’s face. God.
   Time passed and the ramp was awesome, but I held off on trying it fearing my 205 pound statuesque (museum quality) frame would squash it. However, my thoughts changed after seeing the smoking guy take a run down the hill and over the ramp, and other than sounding a large “thud” when hitting the ground after sailing off the ramp, all appeared ok.
   My first run down I used my daughter’s boogie board and went down in a kneeling position while holding onto the handles in front of me. I launched off the ramp and landed a bit off center causing me to tumble and crashing my shoulder hard into the ground. I hit the ground and didn’t budge; just stuck there like a stick in the mud.
   For my second run, I sat on the board crisscross applesauce (Indian style) and really caught some good air after leaving the ramp. When I hit the ground, I hit it square with my butt and was shocked that my spine didn’t shoot through the top of my skull, because that’s what it felt like. No wonder the smoking guy only used the ramp once.

  12.23- Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays. Be safe, have fun, and don’t be stupid. Cheers!

   12.12- Cheers to Bettie Page.
   Buy Askew Reviews 13 and A Nobody's Nothings for $10! Paypal to
   Here's a DVD review
   The weekend is upon us...
  11.28- What I watched last night.

  11.26- This Thanksgiving, I am thankful for indoor plumbing and chick fights.

  11.14- Pepsi + Jameson + Denis = Tonight.

  11.7- Last Monday, I was looking around my attic and found a black & white, wallet size, picture of a girl wearing the uniform of the local Catholic school. Not wanting to throw away this old picture, I posted the picture on one of my town’s online bulletin boards and after a few days, I now have the girl’s name and mailing address. The picture was taken in the mid 1950s and its subject, now in her 60s, is living in Florida . I suppose the internet is good for something after all.
  Before I found that picture, I noticed a large box of vinyl albums left by many previous owners ago. The box contained about 50 lps and I posted the most amusing ones over at the Askew Myspace Blog.
  Now, thanks to Mighty Ben, here's a CD review.
  The weekend is ours.

  10.24- CD Review.
  Now go away and hit the weekend.

  10.17- Here's a DVD review that may interest those into art film and/or gay cinema.
  Pimp Time: Buy Askew Reviews 13 for $3. Buy my book, A Nobody's Nothings, for $10 and get the zine for free. Such a bahhhgin. 
  The weekend is here and now you should go away and do something to yourself or someone else.

  10.16- Yep, been a while. Some of it my fault, some of it not. 
  I am finally able to update this site, but I have nothing in the chamber (even though I have tons of reviews to post). Instead, I'll offer quick updates to the 9.19 Tales of Love.
  The Blossom: Last I heard, things are going well.
  The Wilting: Though I haven't seen the guy or girl since the fight, I did see the police over there the other day.
  The Compost: The man is still staying with his parents and Sunday I saw him crying his eyeballs out while sitting in his truck. That can't be good.
  You can read a pretty good review (and a bunch of great short stories) of my book in the newest Chiron Review, but you'll have to buy it since it's not online. 
  Feast 2: Sloppy Seconds = Good DVD.
  The Happening = Waste of Your Time.

  9.19- Three Thursday Tales of Love.
  The Blossom: A friend of mine went on a blind date Wednesday night with a man who she says is very nice, but is also her ex-husband’s doppelganger. She kissed him and there will be a second date, but admits she will need to get over his familiar looks if the relationship is to proceed. Thursday morning, as she told me about the date, she sounded excited and up beat.
  The Wilting: From my bedroom window mid Thursday afternoon, I witnessed the young lady (early 20s and hot) who lives across the street try to get into her apartment, but was being held back by her husband/boyfriend who refused to let her in while tossing her clothes out the door. After a few minutes of trying to get in and dropping rather loud “F bombs,” the girl gave up and retrieved her strewn about clothing. Once her clothes were in a relatively neat pile, she sat on the front porch crying.
  The Compost: Four weeks ago, my neighbors (married couple in their mid to late 60s) drove their camper thing up to Nova Scotia to visit family. A week after departure, I noticed the couple’s son, 45 or so, spending nights at the house. Today, Thursday, my neighbors returned home and I spoke with Pops about the vacation. Near the end of our conversation, he told me his son “had a beef with his wife and is staying with us…”
  Have a great weekend.

  9.17- Two new comedy DVDs you may want to watch: Brian Regan: The Epitome of Hyperbole and Bill Burr: Why Do I Do This. If you check out Bill Burr, make sure you either watch the DVD or the secret stash version on Comedy Central to avoid the censoring of swear words. Brian Regan doesn’t swear, so there are no worries about those annoying beeps. Both DVDs had me rolling.
  I am by no means an animal rights activist, but this douche gets what he deserves.

  9.12- While walking to the bank today, a Styrofoam cup, propelled by the wind, bolted by me and was carried into the busy street that ran perpendicular to our side street. The once mighty cup was not only instantly squashed by the tire of an automobile; it stuck to its squisher and went for a ride. It’s amazing how life for humans is much the same as that Styrofoam cup’s adventure: one second you're flying and the next you’re knocked flat and for a loop. However, as humans we are able to get up, flip off the car, and carry on with vigor. Not the same can be said about that cup. It’s good to be human, and not Styrofoam.
  This CD review qualifies for at least a partial "ouch!"
  Git to the weekend, already!

  9.7- While enjoying a fine lunch yesterday, I was able to try Mayflower Brewery’s Pale Ale and it was very good. Mayflower Brewery  is a fairly new craft microbrewery located in Plymouth, MA, which is not far from my house and I hope to visit the place sometime soon. The Pale Ale is Mayflower’s flagship brew, but I for one can not wait to try their I.P.A. I certainly hope you can make the connection between Mayflower and Plymouth , MA .

  9.5- If you look to your left, you'll see some new menu options: Submissions and Zine Trades. Please do take the time and become familiar with the choices, then pass along the information to every single person you know now and in the future. The new Submissions practice is a big change for Askew Reviews and it's one I think will enhance the zine. The Zine Trades is just a way to expose other people's zine work.
  Here is a DVD review.

  8.30- Recently watched:
  The Hammer- Adam Carolla stars (also wrote the story) as a down and out construction worker who gets a second chance at a boxing career. The movie is cheesy at times, but loaded with Carolla's dry and sarcastic humor, which I find most entertaining. Also features music by The Mighty Mighty Bosstones, Bad Religion, and Social Distortion. 
  Rogue- A giant croc eats sightseers in Australia. Finally, a horror movie that is not ruined by comedy or crappy CGI. One of the better "large animal" movies. Stars Radha Mitchell...come to me...
  Doomsday- Futuristic thriller mish mash of Escape From New York and The Road Warrior with lots of blood and guts. British dialog is thick and muddled beneath the overbearing soundtrack. 
  Recently read:
  Cannery Row by John Steinbeck. Like there's anything left to be said or written about this classic.
  Sweet Thursday by John Steinbeck. Picks up where Cannery Row left off with a handful of new compelling characters. Suzy...come to me...
  Awaydays by Kevin Sampson. Follows a month or so of a 19 year old soccer hooligan in England. Good up and down emotional roller coaster of an evolving kid stuck between brawls, sex, and wanting a better life for himself and family.

  8.19- I recently traded zines with Christina-Marie Wright, the publisher/editor of Gonzo Parenting out of Chelan, WA and liked it so much I had to blurb off about it. The zine includes pieces and drawings concerning kids, parents, and parenting. Each piece has its own point of view and is entertaining and often funny, sans the serious “What Makes a Mother?” which will boggle the mind of any sensible person. While reading Christina’s “Step-Wives: The Good, the Bad, and the Butt-Ugly,” I laughed mighty hard more than once causing those around me at the bar to glance at me like I was a loon. Parents or soon to be parents, especially women, will get a kick out of Gonzo Parenting. All contributors are women, but I am going to try and change that for the next release.
  Here's a DVD review.

  8.11- Having computer issues stinks.
  Here's a new review of my book, and here's a CD review.

  8.6- The other day I sat on my front porch and read a book while listening to the punk channel on Sirius Satellite Radio (I've me one of those cool outdoor speakers that look like a rock-awesome). From time to time my attention would be diverted to the goings on in front of and around my house. At one point the ice cream truck drove by and when it was several houses down the street, the little boy who lives across the street bolted out of the door and chased the truck. Try as he did, and he was flying, the ice cream truck drove out of sight. As he ran and realized his chase was failing, the lil' boy began to yell/cry louder and louder in short bursts of yelps sounding similar to the noise a dog makes when hurt. Finally, the boy stopped running and turned around crying and yelling, "Stupid ice cream truck!" He is young but will soon see how many of life's chases end in disappointment, but those disappointments make the successful chases all the sweeter. 
  About an hour later, a father walked by pushing his young daughter (guessing 2) in a little car stroller. When they reached the end of the street, the little girl wanted out of the stroller and refused to sit down. Instead of simply holding his daughter's hand and walking with her, the man picked up the girl, snarled, yelled at her, and even gave her a little shake that nearly made start with him. He then jammed the girl back into the stroller and hurriedly walked away with the screams of his daughter echoing. If this father couldn't handle something as simple as a walk with his daughter on a nice day, how's he going to handle it when things get tough?
  As the cries walked out of my hearing range, the guy across the street burst from his house arm in arm with his new girlfriend (who makes Olive Oil look like one hefty mama). Together they beamed smiles and walked together like co-joined twins to a destination unknown to me.
  As a rather attractive woman walked by me, she was maybe 15 feet from me, Lee Ving (Fear) sang,  "...cockroaches on the walls, crabs crawling on my balls...oh, I'm so clean cut, I just wanna fuck some slut..." (from "I Love Livin' in the City")
  I wonder if she heard it.  I kind of hope not. Though, it is a great song and maybe she would've liked it. 
  Here is a DVD review.

  8.2- Rare Saturday post: A book review.

  8.1- Visit Kitten Coffin Zombies and vote for Shells Bells, who was the cover girl for Askew Reviews 11 (I also interviewed her in the same issue). After registering (simple process), you can vote once a day until Aug 15.

  7.28- Being busy stinks because being busy just stinks and being busy makes time go by fast and we all know time doesn’t need help with speed as its foot is already pedal to the metal, damn it.

  7.16- While Pah takes his monthly bath in the rusty tub sitting in the front yard, go read this DVD review, you big city schooled smarty overalls. 
  This is one bad bike crash.

  7.4- Ladies and Gentlemen, The Declaration of Independence.
  Two questions for this Fourth of July Weekend:Why is the Spider Monkey not represented along with the Chimpanzees, Gorillas, and Orangutans in The Planet of the Apes movies?
  Here is a CD review.

  6.27- Many moons ago, while working construction, I was hanging sheetrock and plastering an addition built onto a house. After completing the upstairs, we moved downstairs to finish up a couple of walls. Since this work was in part of the house where the family lived, the homeowners engaged us in conversation. It was the typical chit-chit that even included the man of the house saying while holding a large plateful of dry orange pasta, “Ever try to double up on the macaroni and cheese? It doesn’t work.”
He was a nice guy and came across very gentle for his Hulk like stature: approx 6’ 5”, 275 pounds, and hands the size anvils.
   After some silence, the man asked us, “Hey, any of you guys know someone who’s looking to get rid of a cigar store Indian? You know, like the one on Cheers? A big one, six footer.”
   My coworkers and I paused and looked at each other probably all thinking about the odd question just asked.
   “No,” we all answered in unrehearsed unison.
   “Why do you want one of those?” my coworker John asked.
   “I don’t know. I’ve always wanted one. I have that one over there, but it’s too small.”
We looked to where the man pointed and spotted a small wooden Indian statue standing maybe 18 inches. The statue appeared to be one of an Indian chief with full headdress.
   “I mean it’s great, but too small. Just not the same,” he continued.
   The man’s wife shook her head and walked into the kitchen.
   “What are you going to do with a big one?” I asked.
   “I don’t know. Stand next to it. It’ll be great,” he answered.
   I never saw that man again and can’t help but wonder, even after all these years, if he was ever able to stand next to a six foot tall cigar store Indian that he could call his own.
   Here's a DVD review.
  It's the weekend. Mighty Ben is off to the place of his birth and childhood to see his beloved Cleveland Indians play a game. Me? I'm off to the Kidz Bop concert with my daughter (7), niece (6), and another niece (5). Me, three lil' girls, and no beer or booze. It really seemed like a good thing at the time. Have one for me, damn you.

  6.20- On Tuesday night, I was belly up to a bar drinking a few and eating some food served by one hell of a cutie. I arrived at 7 and watched the Red Sox game until the channel was changed at 9. Of course, they just had to put on the Celtics/Lakers game. This highly annoyed me because the Sox winning a regular season game in mid June is ten zillion times more important to me than the possibility of the Celtics winning the NBA title. However, the drinks were nicely flowing so I decided to stick around, even though the stupid basketball game was on the only tv in the place. The bar was full, but only a few people were watching the game (this place isn’t a sports bar). However, one guy at the other end of the bar was into the game and obviously buzzing hard because he repeatedly cheered the replays. He wouldn’t cheer the real time plays, only the replays. Funniest thing about this was he really thought he was cheering real time and would abruptly cease cheering once he realized it was the replay. Ah, to find the positive in a negative. I found this hilarious, but still only made it through the game’s first quarter.
  On the book front, someone of high standing in the poetry/beat/small press scene wrote a great review of A Nobody’s Nothings that’ll be published in a well-respected long running magazine. However, I cannot quote it until it’s published! Something for me to anticipate! I am working to have my second book available January 2009. I could have it out earlier, but it makes more sense to do it 1-09. I have whittled the list of possible titles down to two, so now the hard decision looms.
I watched National Lampoon’s One, Two, Many, which starred and written by John Melendez (formerly Stuttering John from The Stern Show). About a man who wanted a girlfriend who would allow another woman into their sex life, the movie does have several laughs and was honestly ok. National Lampoon could’ve put a tad bit more money into the sets as they be mighty cheap looking. It’ll be interesting to see what Melendez comes up with next.
  Links you should visit: Askew’s Myspace, My Book’s Myspace, My new photoblog, Mighty Ben’s Myspace, C. Allen Rearick's Myspace because he’s distributing some Askew Reviews 13 for me in Cleveland, same with K-Rod (CA) and Doug (MI)!
  It is Friday.

  6.13- When I started Askew Reviews all too long ago, it was given away for free. As the years passed, the major chunk of the press run was and is now sold via mail order with smaller percentages going towards comp/publicity reasons, and always the free distribution. With the release of Askew Reviews 13, I've noticed something that has me troubled: most of the places where the free stacks of Askew would go are no longer around. Used records stores, indi record stores, small bars, adult stores, etc are fewer and fewer to the point where I have a hard time offering free zines for the taking. Mighty Ben use to hit several places around his Boston workplace and he told me most of his spots are now closed. God knows all of the South Shore joints I use to hit are long gone. I suppose if Askew Reviews fit with Walmart, Home Depot, and Applebee's all would be fine, but it doesn't and it's not. So, if you live near or frequent a place where free zines litter the front entrance, let me know....
  Check out my photoblog's June 12 entry and watch the brawling yellow jackets I taped in my driveway.
  Here's a book review.
  It is the weekend. Get out there and do it before Monday ruins things. 

Hugh Fox (renowned poet)
Ben Hunter (The Medveds)
Brian McCaffrey (Bad Lieutenants)
Douglas A. Waltz (author)
Steve Barker (author)
The Rakish Cad (advice columnist)
Denis Sheehan (doucheface)

Flash contributors: 
Timothy Gager (Boston poet)
Ed Charbonnier (Kermit's Finger)
Brian Mosher (writer)
Greg Oguss (musician/writer)
Richard Nesberg (writer)
And more…

The zine runs 48 pages (entertaining cover to entertaining cover).

Also jam packed with dvd, music, and book reviews! Plus the usual nonsense found in Askew's pages.

Order now via Paypal for a simply silly $3! (buy my book and get it for free)

Or mail the money to the below address.

Cheers and thanks for your support,
Denis Sheehan
Askew Reviews
PO Box 684
Hanover, MA 02339

  6.5- I've done started a photoblog that has nothing to do with sex, booze, music, movies, or me. Imagine that! Check it out over here.

  5.28- Have you noticed that Askew Reviews 13 is available?
  Here's a CD review!

  5.2- Holy crap, time flies when yer busy. Though I promised not to put up any reviews until after Askew Reviews 13 is out, I've been a neglectful douche and shall post this CD review. 13 is almost done.
  As always, please check out my book and buy the forkin' thing, already!
  If you buy crap on Ebay, make sure you avoid user 'the-video-bin' as they are frauds.
  The weekend is upon us, what else is there to write?
  4.18- Watched Juno the other day and failed to see its appeal. Perhaps it’s because I am male and do not get into dialog influenced by Dawson’s Creek…I find it amusing and entertaining when competing politicians label the other as “out of touch” with the people. Trust me, all politicians are out of touch with the people and do not care about you or me beyond our votes…You will never see a better television show’s finale than the third season of Battlestar Gallactica…I really think Daniel Day Lewis is the best actor of our generation…Mike Ness of Social Distortion is performing solo shows all over America, except anywhere near the Boston area. Fyck…Forget about banning smoking everywhere, let’s start discussing banning talking on cell phones…Though an elected politician gets the last laugh, there is nothing more pathetic than a running politician pandering for votes…I recently started a book that I thought was nonfiction, but about halfway through I discovered that it is actually fiction written like it’s nonfiction. I suddenly find myself a lot less interested in the book, but it is good enough to continue reading. I am not sure what I want to do about it. Life is hard sometimes…I think I am going to write a movie about a cannibal who likes Italian food and gorges on spaghetti and testicles…Unless there is booze in it, I am not a big drinker of soda. However, this red Mountain Dew stuff is damn good…If you want to know how people feel concerning social issues, talk to them. If you wish to be influenced, lied to, and dictated to, read a newspaper…Screw the rest of my nonsense. Today is the best day, weather wise, so far of 2008…and it is Friday. Enjoy the weekend! Oh, and check out my book.

  4.17- Since I am busy working Askew Reviews 13 and not posting new reviews until after the print zine is out, here are links to some of 13's contributors: Mighty Ben Hunter, Brian McCaffrey, Doug Waltz, Hugh Fox (sorry, no link), Timothy Gager, Brian Mosher, Greg Oguss, Ed Charbonnier, Richard Nesberg, Steve Barker, and The Rakish Cad. Go give 'em hell!

  4.7- Here's a new review for my book, A Nobody's Nothings.

  4.4- Still working Askew 13 over here and also making great progress on my second book. Since I brought it up, check out my book.
  I am a huge fan of pizza and a few months ago a Papa John's opened in my town. Admittedly, I was all up for trying a new brand of pizza, but everyone I talk to tells me Papa John's pizza tastes like the underside of a dirty cow's even dirtier scrotum. What's a curious pizza fan to do? Emmmmmm...Chinese food.
  When he was elected Governor of Massachusetts almost two years ago, I rambled here about what a dangerous, dangerous man Deval Patrick is to the working folks, taxpayers, and law abiding citizens of The Commonwealth. However, I must admit when I am wrong and I was wrong. Since faux Governor Patrick took office, it has become evident his lack of testicular fortitude and heart to actually carry out any of his ideas for a "better" Massachusetts. True, he had a few ideas I championed that he has also jellyfished, but I'll take the good with the bad. While faux Governor Patrick is a great speaker and an avid use of some standard thesaurus, he is far more interested in his own personal gain and what lies in wait for him after his term has ceased. 
  Who says reviewing porn doesn't have its benefits? An executive chef and I recently traded ten DVDs for the recipe of his amazing pasta dish offered at an award winning and very popular Italian restaurant. Now, I shall master it...
  Last Tuesday night, I met up with Mighty Ben for some beers at the venerable Solace on Boylston Street in Boston. On my train ride home I sat next to an older gentleman, late 50s or so, who was tearing through some stuff he had just purchased: reel to reel concert footage and 15-20 vinyl lps. Now, I am not sure if what he had is only available in those two formats as I've never heard of the bands, but I must write that, in my opinion, vinyl records sound so much better than anything digital. Of course digital recordings are far more clearer, easier to use, and comes with all sorts of options, but vinyl records have a depth to them digital just can not capture. Same goes for camera film versus digital cameras. The depth can not be compared. I have no where to go with this, but it was really cool seeing someone so happy and excited over that stuff while surrounded by those using iPods, other mp3 players, etc. Of course, my sole source of entertainment, drunk texting, was squashed by being in tunnels. I need a breathalyzer on my cell phone.
  Although my entire week is a weekend, I am glad the weekend is here. I am done here, go in peace. 

  3.26- Ad Deadline for Askew Reviews 13 is April 25, 2008. For rates and more information, please send me an email:
  I recently finished
Steve Martin's new book, "Born Standing Up: A Comic's Life" and it is one great book. Due to nothing being said or written about his stand-up work for about 30 years, I've always been interested in it...and now I know. 
  Former Askew writer, comedian John Turco (also my long time cousin) is opening his own comedy club in Pawtucket, RI. Do check it out because the only thing funnier than John's stand up act is his face.

  3.11- Over the weekend I watched The Rage (directed by Robert Kurtzman- formerly the "K" in KNB Special Effects) starring Andrew "Wishmaster" Divoff (also had a reoccurring role in Lost) and Erin Brown, aka Misty Mundae. The movie is basically action packed, aside from maybe 15 minutes of boring back story flashbacks, and loaded with gore, albeit some of it cheesy CGI. The point of this useless rambling is my beloved Misty Mundae. Known for her countless b-movie roles and softcore action, Misty has left world of no budget projects for more mainstream fare (see Sick Girl in the Masters of Horror series) and is doing pretty well. She's avoided shedding her clothes, though she does have a sexy underwear scene, and has really worked on her acting. However, near the end of The Rage, she lets fly a few bad screams that rival the badness, and hilarity, of the shower girl scream in the faux movie that opens the Brian De Palma/John Travolta 1981 thriller, Blow Out. Ayup, I had the same reaction to Erin's scream as Travolta had to Blow Out's scream. Also, Misty's only hardcore movie, Vampire Strangler, has been re-released in separate 3 DVD and 2 DVD editions. The movie is rough and pretty sucky, but Misty goes hardcore and therefore is one of my favorites, ever. 
  For you bananas living on or near Massachusetts South Shore, I ate at this place last night and it is damn good. The sirloin steak tips are tender and most yum, cornbread stuffing awesome, asparagus gratin tasty. For an appetizer, we ate onion rings (of course) which were just ok. However, the rings come with this smokey onion relish that was so good it nearly made me want to kill someone. I love Harpoon IPA. Oh, if you choose to hit this place, hold your nose when walking through the parking lot because the owners of this otherwise fine establishment obviously do not have a grasp on their septic system. And to ramble even more, hauntings supposedly riddle this place. Please.
  Though I was impressed with its editing and cinematography, Into the Wild (directed by Sean Penn and adapted from the Jon Krakauer book) is a snorefest. Eddie Vedder's constant droning on certainly did not help; cheer the fyck up!
  Yesterday I started Steve Martin's new book, Born Standing Up: A Comic's Life and tore through 70 pages without blinking an eye. So far, it is really great and I look forward to the rest of the book.

  3.6- Typically, I do not like to refer to past reviews posted on this simply fabulous site, but Mighty Ben reviewed a book a few months back and lent it to me to read. While I loved the book for the exact reasons captured in Ben's review, I can honestly admit that I have never in my life disliked the main character of a book as much as I disliked the fella in this book
  We're in quiet time review wise as Askew Reviews 13 approaches. I am running flash fiction for the first time in 13 (see the 2.11 post for more info). Contact me if you’re interested.
  The weekend is here and we all shall live.

  3.4- I wonder why a french fry flavored beverage does not exist. 

  2.29- Sad news out of the independent film scene: John Polonia, half of the filmmaking Polonia twins, died of a heart aneurysm the other day. He was 39 and leaves a wife and young son.
 John Turco, one time Askew reviews contributor, stand up comedian, and my cousin, has redesigned his website and boy-oh-boy does it look good!
  Enjoy the weekend. Mine is full of pahhhteeees! Well, birthday parties for my daughter and niece, but pahhhteeees nontheless.

  2.25- Why is it when someone has the last name Wood or Woods, it's always spelled Wood/Woods and never Would/Woulds? 
  Since we're in the reviews "quiet time" (have to keep things unpublished for Askew Reviews 13), I'll share my thoughts on yogurt I bought yesterday. While at the supermarket, I was gazing at the endless amounts of yogurt and was caught by the flavor "Boston Cream Pie." I love Boston Cream Pie: desert, donuts, muffins, etc. So hey, why not try this brand of yogurt? I bough the container, which turned out to be the Weight Watchers brand, and just now finished it. Let me simply write that this stuff doesn't have a hint, not a hint, of any taste resembling Boston Cream Pie. If I were a big fatso, I'd rather stay over weight and risk heart disease and diabetes than eat this slop. 

As you may have figured out due to the lack of posts, I’ve been busy and, well, lazy. I’ve set a Feb 29, 2008 deadline for Askew Reviews 13. I am looking for some new blood to pen a column about anything as long as it’s interesting. I am also running flash fiction for the first time (see the 2.11 post for more info). Contact me if you’re interested.
  Act quickly, for there are only a few hundred thousand copies of my book left. Act quickly before they run out in 2057.
  I am thinking about hitting my favorite local dive tonight and sitting at the bar alone drinking Smithwick’s Ale from the bottle using only a purple straw.
  The weekend arrives in few hours and I have zero responsibilities 'til Sunday night. Yikes.

  2.11- Calling for Flash Fiction/Nonfiction 250 words or less to stick in Askew Reviews 13. Must be 250 words or less and can be anything other than sexually graphic material. Should you choose to submit, be sure to include your name and website (or other contact info) that’ll be published with your 250 or less words. Please do not send previously published material. Come up with something new, it’s only 250 words. No, you will not receive money or sexual favors, but I’ll send you a copy of the zine to show mother. Get it in by 2.29.2008:

  2.4- As if your life isn't already cluttered with too much nonsense, now you have to add this interview with me to the mess. (as of 2.11, you have to scroll down and find my interview, if interested.)

  1.29- If you're into small press, this is one cool DVD.

  1.25- It is the weekend and unless you are having naked cybersex with someone you think is hot but is really a gross slob, you should not be on the Internet. Go on, piss off and get pissed (pissed as in drunk, not angry pissed).

  1.23- Apparently, I wrote this CD review Friday/Saturday. I honestly have no remembrance of it. However, I do remember writing a story during the same time...

  1.22- Mr. Woodcock- waste of time.
  Good Luck Chuck- few good laughs, lots of boobies, but not worth your time.
  Death Sentence- stars Kevin Bacon. See 1974's Death Wish, but add some good gore.
  Seraphim Falls- stars Pierce Bronsan and Liam Neeson. Set in 1868, man hunts man through the mountains and deserts. Though slow at times, lots of tension and great scenery make for a purdy good 110 minutes.
  Eastern Promises- directed by David Cronenberg. Bore of a movie, unless you want to watch Viggo Mortensen brawl buck naked with franks and beans freely flopping in the breeze.
  Rescue Dawn- stars Christian Bale and Steve Zahn. A movie adaptation concerning the man and his prison camp experience covered in this great documentary. Both are directed by Werner Herzog. Dawn is good, but I recommend the documentary first.. 
  I am reading "Legend of a Rock Star: The Last Testament of Dee Dee Ramone" (a memoir) and though I am loving it, Dee Dee was one whiney lil' bitch.
  New to Askew, Budd reviews a Hungarian animated DVD.
  1.16- DVD.

  1.11- My shaggee had lunch with a friend yesterday and the friend brought along sex astrology book. The shaggee read about the male Aquarius, which I am, and was informed that men who are born under this sign have enormous testicles. Well, the shaggee didn’t have to look far to see how wrong the book is. My cousin on the other hand, who is not an Aquarius, holy bouncy boys!
  Though I did not understand one major aspect of 3:10 to Yuma, denis likie...alot. 
  A guy I worked with years ago recently died. Another guy I worked with, along with the now dead guy, tried to commit suicide the day after dead guy was buried. What the hell?
  I'm going to be setting a deadline for Askew Reviews soon. If anyone out there would like to pen a column, run it by me
  If you like grindhouse/golden age porn/sexploitation, this book is a must.
  The weekend is here and that's all I have to about that.

Years ago, a company called Video Dungeon provided me with many movies that are not readily available on the American market. From banned horror to the grubbiest of adult entertainment, Wilson was the man. Then without a word, Video Dungeon disappeared. Last week, after years of silence (which was caused by a nasty divorce), Wilson reappeared with his new company Cinema de Bizarre and is once again offering those impossible to find gems.
  Shoot 'Em Up, starring Clive Owen and Paul Giamatti, is pure nonsense, but damn it is a fun movie.
  I am halfway through season three of Melrose Place and along with enjoying the fyck out of myself, I have come to realize that women in the early to mid 90s wore their pants pulled up awfully high.

  Like when I have sex, here's a quickie DVD review.

  1.4- When I was but a wee laddie raising the ire of the local bogman with typical boyhood shenanigans, everybody had a dog and unless you saw the pooch running in and out of their house, you never knew it. Back then, when dog owners visited other people they left fido at home. Nowadays, dog owners feel they have the right to bring their flea infested poopbags everywhere they go, including other people’s houses. You go to a party and there are seven dogs, none belonging to the host of the party, walking around and chewing the snot out of stuff and filling the room with the aroma of freshly bent steaming piles of doggie biscuits. Look, I am well aware that over the past twenty years society has allowed the pussification of children who graduate from high school with the reading and writing abilities of the above mentioned doggie biscuits and a roomful of “winner” ribbons because there are no losers, no first placers: just all winners for self esteem sake. But since when have dogs needed to be coddled, treated like newborns, and dragged around like kids belonging to a soccer mom all jigged out on caffeine and the day’s Dr. Phil television program?
   A dear family friend (been hitting the martini glass hard over the past 30 years and has probably slept with someone you know) has decided to share is wisdom via question and answer advice on his newly build Myspace page.
   Ever notice how people that cry the loudest about racism are the first to drag race into every aspect of life?
   Someone (I know who, but shall not offer) recently told my soon to be 7-year-old daughter what a “queef” is. Reilly, my dottah (daughter), then asked my niece/her cousin, who’s six, if she knew what a queef is. Katie answered, “yes, it’s Spanish for pancakes.”
   I once had half sex with a woman who is half Asian (story can be read in my book). Does that count as sex with an Asian woman?
   Though I have many reviews to post, I sense this weekend will be a great one and shall not be a part of holding you back from beginning your debauchery, or whatever it is you do for a good time.

  12.31- I found some ice cube trays that make my second favorite type of ice "shapes" (my all time favorite ice things are machine made and I only know of one place in Massachusetts that has it) and used them last weekend. Trust me, I was happier than a dog at a dump. However, the second time I attempted to twist the ice out of the trays, they BOTH exploded into 80 jillion pieces. Boo. I guess that why they were being sold at one of those cheepo dollar stores. Ah well, back to boring square cubes. God, life is tough.
  Cheers to you and the new year.

  12.28- I lost my hat during a snowstorm two weeks ago, but I found it after the snow melted.
  I watched Hatchet the other night and thoroughly enjoyed the gore and story. However, I am tired of comedy constantly dragging down otherwise good horror movies. 
  Hard to believe Vic Tayback has been dead for almost 18 years.
  I lost to my six year old daughter in Junior Monopoly ('lil buggah didn't land on my properties) then she absolutely kicked my arse at Wii Bowling (this was the first time either one of us has played). Yes, my ego is bruised and I may just have to punish her for no good reason.
  Life can sometimes be like the enjoyment ceasing and sudden tangling of the Yo-Yo's twine.
  The lid for my trash barrel disappeared one night during a windstorm. Two days later, as I walked to the bank, I found it in the middle of the road about a quarter mile from my house.
  If I am ever arrested, I hope I am not naked.
  Mighty Ben reviews a CD that just may be his favorite of 2007.
  A few weeks ago I listened to Fangoria Radio on Sirius Satellite Radio and heard perhaps the greatest nonsensical interview ever with actor Thomas Jane. This guy was so drunk, but tried to act like he wasn't and it was so damn entertaining. I swear, my butt crack was even smiling.
  Near the end of the "Greased Lightening" scene/song in Grease, Danny Zuko runs around the car unraveling what looks to be a large roll of cellophane. What does that mean or signify? I've never understood that part, dahhhnit!
Enjoy the weekend.  

  12.21- Even though I've been off work all week, there's simply something grand about Friday and the arrival of the weekend.
  Someone I recently met is in an abusive relationship. She, is tall, skinny and good looking enough. I have never met him, but I've heard that he's a short loudmouth with issues. Though they fight all the time and he smacks her around, she always returns. Some time ago, they were fighting and he sprayed her in the face with Raid. Fearing for her eyesight, she ran to the bathroom to flush her eyes and he ran to the basement and shut off the main water feed to the house. She left vowing to never return, yet two hours later she was posting her love for him on his myspace page and had returned and left him several times since the Raid incident. Wow.
  Fisherman's IPA and Wachusett IPA are both gross.
  Here's a CD review that doubles as a fight review! POW!
  I refuse to let you forget about my book.
  Now go and have yerself an amazing weekend. I have a week's worth of catching up because I've been sick, which stinks when you're on vacation.

  12.19- I've decided to come up with farewell blessings: May the road you travel be littered with good health, good cheer, and good people wanting nothing more than to put a smile on that good looking face of yours.
  Here's a book review.

  12.13 (1:35PM)- In approx three hours, I start my two week vacation (from work) and it shall be a grand two weeks. Indeed.
  Enjoy this book review and curses to the snow that falls upon Massachusetts today.

  12.8- Hall of Fame CD review worthy of a drunken Saturday night post!

  12.7- Over the past year or so, the television airwaves have become inundated with commercials starring white men pushing various “male enhancement” products. While this is a blatant example of racism, I very highly doubt Jesse Jackson or Al Sharpton will march in protest. And if you think of it, from whitie’s point of view, it’s pretty damn prejudice, as well!
  DVD review.
  Now enjoy the weekend, you weekend slacker, you.

Last night at M.J. O’Connor’s Pub in Boston, I ate the greatest buffalo chicken wrap in the world. I swear it felt like I was having an orgasm in my mouth, in a nonhomosexual way, of course. On the flipside of things, after ordering and drinking two pints of Harpoon IPA, the waitress decided to slip me Harp ale without telling me. I tasted the difference, but didn’t say anything. Can you handle such written excitement?
  If anyone knows the name of the female singer/guitarist who was playing at the Park Street Red Line Station ‘til 9 last night (Dec 3), please let me know. She was wearing a red jacket, black cap, pants, and boots.

  Check out my book.

  12.4- Ayup, going out for beers with Mighty Ben tonight and we're going someplace I've never been; should be a good time. Although, it is purdy cold out there in lovely downtown Boston and I loathe wearing a jacket, but I think I'll have to sport one today. Now, the last time we did this, a girl spilled a pint of beer that landed right inside my left shoe and I got so stewpid drunk I though a good friend was someone else. Drinking on a more than empty belly is never a good thing and shall not be repeated tonight. 
  I was thinking last night while bored to tears watching the Transformers movie (I hate Shia LaBeouf and it pisses me off that he's in the next Indiana Jones movie) and felt anguish over the fact that I've never snorted coke off the lovely bosom of a pricey striper while being entertained by a live recording of a Barry Manilow concert. I gots to gets to livin'!
  You know, I have no plans this weekend, but next weekend everyone I know is having a Christmas party. Of course, these parties are at the four corners of the Earth. Hey, wait a minute...
  You know, how do we, the average folk of the world, truly know that the world is round? If you think about it, all proof of the Earth's roundness comes from the governments of the world via astronauts, satellite pictures, etc. What if they're lying to us? Wouldn't be the first lie they've told. I say we, the average folk of the world, devise a plan to jack a space shuttle, tell a crackhead the moon is made of crack, shoot the junkie into space, call him, ask him to look over his shoulder and tell us if the blue thing is round. Finally, the truth will be known.
  Here's a CD review.

Since it is fall in New England, the ground is covered with leaves and people often rake these fallen leaves from their yards and properly, sometimes, dispose of them. As I drove to pick up my daughter from school yesterday, I passed an old man raking leaves in his front yard. The yard was maybe 15x20 feet. So what’s the big deal, you ask? The old man raking was seated in a lawn chair with a walker next to him. This old timer obviously has trouble walking, yet he found a way and the motivation to rid his property of dead leaves, in the rain no less. About 20 minutes later, I passed the old timer again and he had almost completed raking his yard nearly to the point of not leaving a single leaf to crunch beneath your foot.
  Isn’t it amazing how a single person with bad gas can turn a beautifully fragrant, delightful, and hospitable room into a barnyard you’d fight to exit in mere seconds?
  If I ever come into a ridiculous amount of money and start hanging with rich snobby fycks, one thing I'll never do is tie a sweater around my neck. If you happen to see me, maybe at the tennis and wine club, with a sweater tied around my neck, you have my permission to drive your index finger right into my arse.
  DVD review for all you avant-garde types.
  Finally, the weekend has gracefully fallen upon our squashes.

  11.27- DVD review

  11.21- Thanksgiving has arrived and tomorrow we offer thanks for what we are blessed to enjoy while stuffing our faces. Let us try to make tomorrow an event that will live on past this weekend. Let us toy with the minds and hearts of our loved ones. 
  While at the dinner table, try saying nonsensical statements that’ll bring pause to those around you: “This turkey is so good, I think I just pulled my groin muscle.” 
  When giving yourself some mashed 'taters say, "These smashies remind me of what a great comfort food tuna casserole truly is."
  Constantly warn those around you that you feel like you’re going to vomit. 
  Bring up aging, liver spots, erectile dysfunction, and yeast infections
  Announce to the table that you’re passing on the squash because it reminds you of a coworker's ear wax..
  Later in the day, draw unnecessary attention to yourself by using swear words when talking with children, or maybe bring up and discuss past “relations” with ex-girlfriends/boyfriends.
  Loudly belch mid-sentence and be sure to hang out your tongue while doing so.
  Disappear into the bathroom for 45 minutes and return without your shirt declaring, "Things got messy in there."
  Happy Thanksgiving, everybody!
  Here's a DVD review and here's a CD review.

  11.19- My book has been reviewed.

Some words from readers concerning A Nobody’s Nothings (that would be the book I wrote, ya basturd):
“I read your book, it was great. I haven't laughed out loud so much while reading a book since I read "Freak" by John Leguizamo!”
  Male: "Your earlier bulletin made me grab the book off my to read shelf. Now, just three pages deep I can't put it down! This will be the first book to ever go on tour with me. We leave for Norfolk tomorrow and I will avoid driving duty best I can just to read this.”
“I was reading your book at work last night on my break... got the part about the Irish dude at the Red Sox game, and burst out loud laughing... many people looked strangely at me. Just thought you should know. I am now the weird lady who sits by herself, laughing. PS - The book is fantastic!
  Male: “I am LOVING the book!”
  Female: “…then, I remembered I had a little black book in my bag....:-) Well, let me tell you, your book was the BEST ESCAPE from Chucky Cheese…engrossed in your book, I felt like I was in the corner of the bar observing those characters first hand. I laughed, I gagged (at the many sweat, vomit and nasty sex references) and yes, at the end of each story, I, someway, somehow felt choked up. Thank you for the great escape at one of America's worst establishments!”"I just want to tell you what I think of this book you wrote. First, I skipped all the sex stuff because there's only so much some people can take. Are you suicidal? Are you an alcoholic?"
  Here's a DVD review

  11.13- Cheers to John (see 11.6 post) for winning "The Last Smart Ass Standing" contest and pocketing 5 grand!
  When I was in the second grade, I handled having a tree branch enter my skull through my eye socket and breaking off inside my head, I’ve broken every finger on both hands and reset all of them myself, I once got plaster lime (which can cause blindness) in my eye that was roughly and hurriedly cleaned out with a large cotton swap as nurses gagged, I watched scared to death as my daughter was pulled from my wife’s (now ex-wife) body because her heartbeat was deathly low, I held the hand of my Grandmother as she breathed her last breath, I helped a friend as her head swelled to sci-fi channel epic proportions after a terrible fall, I ignored my bicep as it tore from its tendon to help complete the task of lifting a water heater…yet as my daughter experiences her first lost tooth, she ran from school Friday while showing me her bloody loose tooth, I mean it is hanging from my lil’ sunshine’s gum thread, I nearly passed out. Reilly's first tooth fell out early, too very early, Saturday morning. Unfortunately, she swallowed it as she ate a bowl of cereal.
  Here's a review of a naughty DVD that'll have fans of dirty 42nd St slop drooling.

Last December, I wrote a short story about the day my Grandmother died. This story is included in my book and for the first time, I read it to my six-year-old daughter. As I read the story, I constantly made eye contact with Reilly and she appeared ok. However, immediately after the last word escaped my lips, tears poured from her eyes and she cried, “I miss Great Gramma.” It was pretty damn emotional, even for me.
  On the flip side of things, a few hours later Reilly fell asleep on the couch WITH HER FRIGGIN’ EYES HALF OPEN! It freaked me out and coupled with her previous sadness, it was perhaps the greatest emotional swing I’ve experienced since the first time I got laid; another story in my book!
  To promote his new movie, Bees, Jerry Seinfeld has been appearing on every talk show this side of Joan Rivers’ mouth. Unfortunately, I’ve heard about four interviews with this guy and he has become one bitter and nasty man. Not only is he the most overrated celebrity, aside from Julia Roberts, he really needs to just go away.
  Askew Reviews writer (though he hasn’t done shyt for a few years) and comedian John Turco has made the final three in WHJY’s "The Last Smart A$$ Standing" and needs your vote to win $5,000! The man is also my cousin, so do him a solid and give him a vote-he's finalist #1. If he wins, I’ll make him buy me beer.

  11.2- Although a few things come to mind, is there anything better than falling asleep and waking up what feels like seven hours later, but when you look at the clock only one hour has passed? That was my night last night; it happened about three times. It was simply grand.
  Yesterday, Massachusetts Senior Senator Ted Kennedy said that he will not support President Bush's nominee for Attorney General, Michael Muksaey, because of his unwillingness to directly answer the legality of an interrogation method used to simulate drowning. Of course, this is his right. However, I wonder if Teddy will refuse to support Hillary Clinton (should she be the presidential nominee for the Democrats) due to her unwillingness to answer 95% of the questions thrown her way. Certainly makes you wonder.
  On Halloween, nobody was giving out Charleston Chews! What gives? Made rifling through my daughter’s loot mighty disappointing!
  If anybody out there has watched or watches the movie Reeker, please contact me. I have a question.
  Well, looks like Dog the Bounty Hunter has gotten himself in a world of shyt by dropping the "nigger" word. You know, one would think that saying "nigger" is a requirement for people with six foot mullets, so why all the fuss?
  Mighty Ben reviews this spoken word CD.

Here are some capsule reviews for the last few books I’ve read:
  A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole. Ignatuis Reilly is a grown man who behaves like a know it all child and injects himself into the lives of those who surround him, whether they want him to or not. This book is definitely one of the top five funniest books I’ve read. Written before Toole’s suicide in 1969, the book languished before is publication in 1980.
  Junky by William S. Burroughs. Written in 1953, Burroughs writes about addiction to drugs and being a homosexual. The book is compelling and very candid, but lacks grit one might expect when reading about drugs and living a life to support addiction. I really enjoyed Junky, but I got the sense Burroughs may have felt writing this novel was beneath him.
  Happy Endings by Jim Norton. 2007. I think Jim Norton is one of America’s funniest men and I love the guy. The short stories center around Jim’s experiences as a stand-up comic, women, and his most notable addictions: sex and prostitutes. I did find some of the punch lines a bit redundant, but damn I laughed every time.
  The Lone Surfer of Montana, Kansas by Davy Rothbart. 2005. This collection of eight short stories deal with very real people in very real situations of loneliness and hope with blasts of romance, humor, and lots of oddity.
  Ham on Rye by Charles Bukowski. 1982. Through the voice of his alter ego Henry Chinaski, Bukowski details his rough upbringing, abusive father, and the plight of being a teenager riddled with acne of epic proportions. About a year ago, I watched an interview with a drunken Bukowski shortly before his death and in an instant, he flipped and basically attacked his girlfriend on camera; it was shocking. After reading this book, I can see why he had that in him. 

  10.19- While driving my daughter to school this morning, I stopped at a four way intersection and watched as everyone patiently waited and took their turn. No one jumped the gun and bolted out of place. Now, I am sure most of us, each stop sign had a line about four-six cars, were in a mild hurry to get to work, school, drug dealer, etc., but everyone cooperated and the intersection smoothly flowed like a Ted Kennedy Sunday morning beer shit. This occurrence was not the exception as every time I pass through this intersection, usually four times a day, it works the same. Now, why can't everyone just cooperate a little in life to make this planet a better place. It's not that hard and easy to partake, jackass.
  Buy my book!
  Like a fist to the face, the weekend is here and it won't be grand unless you make it so. Hop to it and make Monday's arrival a life saving event!
  Doug gives us a DVD review

I was recently reminded of this story: About a year ago, I was having sexual relations with a hot female friend of mine. Although this was our first time together, we seemed to be doing everything right and really pushed each other’s buttons. No awkward moments or second thoughts; you have to love that. We started off with kissing, touching, oral, which led to the bumping of uglies. We shagged in the ol’ missionary position first, and then rolled over so she could ride me. After a few minutes and still on top, she spun herself around so that her back was facing me. Since she had an incredible arse, the site was stunning and the sex top notch. As she glided herself up and down, she seductively looked over her shoulder and said, “You like that, pussycat?”
  It was that very moment I realized no matter the circumstance, I do not like being called “pussycat.”

 10.10- DVD Review.

  10.5- Mighty Ben reviews a book (and throws in a Q&A with its author) that I'll be reading very soon.
  I’ve lived in my house for almost four years and never has a spider built its web outside of my kitchen window, ‘til last week. One night, a good size spider built a web that covered about ¾ of the outside of the window. It was really amazing watching the spider’s engineering skills at work. After a few days, the web and spider were gone. Two days ago, a different spider moved in and built a web. This spider was a bit smaller with longer icky legs. Yesterday, my daughter and I watched the spider as it wrapped a bee in its web. Since we had our mugs pressed up against the window, our snouts were less than an inch from the spider; I have double pane windows, as I am high class, yes. Anyway, as the spider wrapped its meat, another bug snared itself in the web and let me tell you that you have no idea the meaning of lickety-split ‘til you see a spider sprint across its web to capture prey. Holy crap, lightningman! We watched the spider wrap up meal number two, then return to the bee and sink its two lil’ jaw things into and most likely devour the inside of the webified treat. After the initial yuckness, Reilly and I moved onto other things. A few hours later, I noticed that the bee was gone from the web, so of course I ventured outside to investigate the steps that rest beneath Spider Window. Yes, sure enough, that spider is one damn litterbug.
  Do you think some dogs practice racism, well, breedism?
  I now leave wishing you a drunken (or carb, fat, taste free if you're into that) weekend and implanting the purchase of my book in your mind.

Ever notice how much better toast smells when someone else is making it and how gross popcorn smells when someone else is eating it?
  You know, I really do like the Dropkick Murphys and I am very happy for their success, but if you live within a twenty mile radius of Boston, there’s no escaping their over exposure. Pretty soon, none of us will be able to drop a deuce without hearing Ken Casey’s and Al Barr’s awesome vocals backed with James Lynch’s screaming guitar and Scruffy Wallace piping the bagpipes and…ah, crap.
  This morning I had a new storm door installed and one of the installers hails from New York and is a Mets fan. When he told me this, I honestly felt sympathy for him due to the Mets’ monumental collapse over the past three weeks. Hey, maybe I do have a heart.
  If yer a Red Sox fan, the golden road to the World Series starts tonight. For this round we shall cheer for the Sox to defeat the Angels and for the Indians to spank the Yanks, not for the sake of beating the Yankees, but to give Mighty Ben (he’s from Cleveland) some love before the Tribe fall to the Sox in the ALCS.
  Last night, I had an amazingly hot and sexy woman in bed with me, bottomless, and I fell asleep. I fell asleep. Yes, you read that correctly, I fell asleep.

is a good, but whacked movie.

  You will now buy my book.

  10.2- Though I try my hardest to not put my political thoughts up here anymore, I am just too annoyed with how these fyck politicians in Washington DC waste our time, our money, and our energy (hey, they work for us, the tax payers) bickering back and forth over ads and words spoken by those who make no difference in our lives. First, The Republicans went after, now the Democrats are hunting Rush Limbaugh. Infuriating! What we have in Washington is a gang of bloated douche bags who do not care a shyt about anything other than their wallets and control over us. I say we vote out every single federally (Dem, Rep, Ind) elected official until they are all replaced with someone new. 
  New to Askew Reviews, Dave offers his first review.

Tonight at O'Briens (3 Harvard Ave. Allston, MA) is the record (review be here) release show for Kermit’s Finger. Also on the bill: Darkbuster Light (Lenny, Dan, Amy )—Opening Acoustic, Kermit’s Finger, Beantown Boozehounds, Rat City Riot, and The Ugly Fucklings.
  I wonder if racial labels transcends to mannequins. For instance, is a black mannequin simply black or is an African-American mannequin? White or Caucasian?
  This may make more sense to those living in drunkurbia than city folk as dog owners amongst the former tend to be greater because having a dog for a pet in the city means you have to worry about the pooch becoming rat food and being peed on by bums. Then again, in drunkburbia dog owners have to worry about coyotes and vampire like ticks that will drain Spot of his life force like a welfare recipient on a block of cheese. What the hell was my point? Oh, why is it when someone yells for their dog, their voice inflection alternate between two tones? The first is like a statement with the last syllable of the dog’s name dragged out: “Luckeeeeey!” Which is followed by a question: “Lucky?” 
  Check out my book, damn you!
  Enjoy the weekend, for it begins with a bang: tonight's Kermit's Finger show!

  9.25- I just finished the Dexter: Season One DVD set, and ferociously look forward to season two's premier Sept 30. Though, Showtime deserves a kick in the balls for having only one episode on disc 4. 
  Here's a DVD for adults who are into 1971 documentary nuttiess.

  9.21- Finally, my book, A Nobody's Nothings, is available for your eyeballs. Buy one (or 20) today and you'll have it for next weekend's boozefest or to read while at work so you actually have fun. 
  Have a great weekend.

While watching Californication (one of my favs), I was pleased as fleegin’ punch to see one of my top three “spank bank” actresses, Pamela Adlon (Luckie Louie) grace the small screen. Mzzzz. Pamela has been on the show a few times, but last night she was dressed in nothing but sexy underwear and a tight t-shirt. Oh ya, it was mighty nice. I immediately got the urge to call a girl I mess around with, from time to time, who reminds me of Pamela Adlon: short, black hair, cute lil’ boobies. Now, if I had called her it would have been for my own sexual satisfaction, nothing else, and I would not have been thinking of her while banging away (for three minutes) since I would’ve been thinking of Mzzzz. Adlon. Does this make me a bad person?
  As we discussed the finer points of making tuna casserole (not many people create this fine cuisine so I am quick to engage in any conversation about it), a respected friend asked me what brand of tuna fish I use, “Geisha, always and forever,” I answered.
“Oh, you simply must try the tuna made by Bumble Bee that comes in the gold and black can,” she offered.
  Although I am brand loyal and really do find Geisha to be the most venerated of all tuna, I investigated my friend’s recommendation and discovered the tuna she spoke of is Bumble Bee Prime Fillet Solid White Albacore. I bought a can.
  Well, even though it's labeled as “prime” and priced 40% higher than most other brands of tuna, including Geisha, Bubble Bee’s Prime Fillet is tasteless and has the consistency of saw dust. I wouldn’t feed this slop to the Hobo Cats who roam the woods behind my house. Phooey!
  Before skipping off to a wonderful weekend, I trust you'll enjoy this DVD review, first.

  9.13- I liked this CD so much, it get its own daily entry!

  9.11- My book, A Nobody's Nothings, will be available for purchase next week. 

  Over the past two years or so, I’ve often written about my hopelessly devoted love for Whole Foods “Chef’s Own” salsa. Well, the fleegan tree huggers went and not only changed the recipe, but basically doubled the price of the salsa. Now, the salsa tastes just like every other salsa out there, and is insanely expensive. The bastard! Yes, I have dropped the mess from my life. Since the breakup, I’ve been searching for a replacement and ran two brands through the ringer: Trader Joe’s homemade salsa and Sister’s Salsa (sold through Hannaford’s supermarket). Trader Joe’s salsa is rather boring and garlic heavy; will work as a back-up, but will never find a true spot in my heart, or belly. The tomato and onion chunks in Sister Salsa’s offering are large and there’s plenty of fresh cilantro. However, the color is bland and the vinegar taste (third listed ingredient) is so damn offensively strong, it made me think I was dipping my chippies in an Easter egg coloring kit. Opting to eat my chips dry, I tossed most of the salsa.

  9.4- I awoke Sunday morning with absolutely nothing to do. My daughter was on vacation in Hawaii with her mother and I had no plans ‘til approx 11:30pm. I took this free time to do about an hour’s worth of small junk around the house, then planted my arse on the porch to finish the book I had been reading.
  As I read the book and checked out the neighborhood’s going ons, I noticed that a flowering “thing” to the right of me was covered with about 8000 species of bees. It was a bit odd looking, but they were over there and I was maybe 10 feet from them, until a swarm of sparrows decided to invade the flowering “thing” evicting the bees. Rather than attack the sparrows, the bees decided to call my body home. I was nearly covered from head to toe with bees, but not a single one chose to sting me. I thought it best to retreat into my house while gently brushing the buzzing squatters off me.
  Still wishing to relax, I decided to visit the place that is 100% relaxation to me: the Scituate lighthouse. Now, to arrive at the lighthouse, there is one way in and one way out. Once you start the trek, there is not turning back.
  As I approached the area, I noticed an abundance of cars and people lining the sidewalks, yards, and driveways. I thought perhaps something was going on in the harbor or maybe the yacht club, or something. Nope. I was wrong. Turns out the town of Scituate was in the midst of their Labor Day parade and I quickly became its caboose.
  As my driving became a stop and start crawl, I could see the clowns and police car that ended the parade. Since I was so close to the end, the spectators were still standing around and having a great time. Of course, these joyous people extended their happiness towards me with shouts of “Hey! Look everybody, it’s a guy in a car!” or “Look, a man wearing sunglasses!” and some even threw candy into my car and many cheered my passing (passing in my car, not passing wind or dieing).
  Not being one who likes attention, even though I am a fleeegin loudmouth here, I was not really enjoying my situation, but I kept my smile and cheers going.
  Finally, after being a bee hang out and a part time spectacle, I sat down on the jetty and finished my book while watching three guys unsuccessfully fish. 
  Here's a DVD review for those who dig Christina Lindberg.

  8.31- I wonder if the woman I am currently having sex with, which includes oral treats, would get mad if she were to find out that I touched my penis with her toothbrush (100% hypothetical)…I wonder if there is something I do not know about apples, oranges, bananas, etc. After all, why else would some people refer to homosexuals as “fruits”…I wonder if as humans evolve over the next 1000 years if A) gay men’s assholes will ever self-lubricate. B) erect wieners will ever self-condomize. C) a woman’s clit will ever grow a giant sign declaring “over here, fella.” D) if a prostitute will ever be able to accept credit card payments by simply swiping a card through her vagina…I wonder if it’s ok to use an onion ring as a cock ring…I wonder why the Surgeon General hasn’t set a recommended daily allowance for women concerning semen consumption. You know that would be my first action once appointed…I wonder if men would have to wear a penis snorkel while having sex if we breathed through our blow hole…Other than the male gawk factor and shock value, I wonder why it’s ok for a fat guy with big, supple man boobs to walk around topless while it’s not ok for a flat chested woman to do the same…I wonder why some asshole guys grab their junk and say to a nearby woman, “You want some of this?” when in reality, the entire “this” isn’t enough to satisfy her, nevermind just “some” of it…I wonder if men would be more inclined to snuggle after sex if once both parties are “happy,” a frosty beer would shoot out of the woman’s head…
  Enjoy the weekend.

  8.24- Growing up, one of my favorite snacks, which were often enjoyed before bedtime, were cheese like sticks called Tid-Bits. Sadly, this tasty treat went the way of the Dodo some years ago. Since then, its replacement has been Cheese Nips, which are superior to and much more venerated than Cheez-It cheese crackers. Yesterday, I went food shopping and discovered the new Cheez-It Stix. I bought a box of the new snacks hoping it would mimic Tid Bits. Oh, how I was wrong. I was wrong. Shouldn’t surprise me though. After all, it is a Cheez-It product: cheap, no taste, and can only satisfy one whose taste buds are the equivalent of being deaf. These, these, these so-called snacks are closely related to those lil’ red sticks used to spread processed cheese on the crackers found in individual cheese and cracker packets. Once again, Cheez-It has demolished the competition in the race for what should never be eaten.

  I was witness to an automobile accident, last night. If I was 100 feet closer, walking in the opposite direction, and crossing against the light I could have been killed, for heaven’s sake! Skin of my teeth, baby. Skin of my teeth.
  As I walked along the sidewalk to my local liquor store today, a skinny boy riding his bike passed me going the opposite direction. He was maybe 13-14, had bushy curly hair, was sporting a half assed 13-14 year old attempt at a mustache, thick glasses, wearing a sickly green t-shirt blazing with that recognizable headshot of Jim Morrison, and was riding a bike very similar to Miss Gulch’s (the de-dit-da-dit-da-dit-da character in The Wizard of Oz) bike; sans the basket. The entire ensemble struck me as odd for some reason, but when the young chap attempted a wheelie and failed, I nearly cried laughing.
  Can it still be called “hair pie” even if it's pube free? If not, then what kind of pie does it become if not hair pie? Why is there no terminology for a guy and his bush or lack there of?
  When I was in second grade, a girl named Joanne developed a crush on me, which I discovered thanks to my friend Mark, who was her next-door neighbor, spying her writing my name and her feelings toward me on a large boulder in her back yard. Being in second grade and afraid of girls (even more so than I am now), I failed to connect with Joanne. Yes, I was a second grader with no rap. For third grade, I was shipped off to an out of town school and did not see Joanne again ‘til high school. Wow, she was hooooot! Today, I wonder if she’s still hot. So, if you’re name is Joanne, lived in Hanson, MA next to a kid named Mark who had an older brother who was accidentally shot, paralyzed, had his wheelchair stolen while visiting Fenway Park and later died, and still hot, email me.

  The weekend is upon us like an out of control genital rash. My weekend started last night, through today, and continues with a midnight BBQ tonight…you all have a great few days.

  8.22- My daughter is with her mother in Hawaii for two weeks, which means denis has zero responsibilities ‘til see returns. Uh-oh. Well there is that work thing, but please…Compared to other celebrities and the trouble they get themselves into, I find it refreshing and amusing that Bill Murray got busted for drunk driving a golf cart through downtown Stockholm… I find it amusing that if I were to say, “I went with a couple of queens…” concerning a poker hand, nobody would blink an eye. Yet, if I were to say the same concerning an experience in San Francisco…Jake’s Seafood in Hull cured my desire for onion rings…For the past year or so, I’ve been quietly looking around for a small bar/eatery to purchase. I found the place that I think would be a great fit, but it’s not for sale. Major boo…The Beltones, both of their full length CDs available from TKO Records, are great…Last week, I cleaned my house windows, inside and out, and of course two birds decided to fly into them leaving smudgy bird prints. Not only that, but another bird flew into the storm door window at my rental property and shattered the entire thing…Jim Norton’s book, Happy Endings, is funny…I am only 100 pages into John Kennedy Toole’s A Confederacy of Dunces, but I am enjoying the snot out of it…

Today I received the proof copy of my book and it looks great, but it is my book so of course I am going to think highly of its greatness. I have signed off on the book and copies should be for sale to the public in approx two weeks!
  Doug Stanhope’s new DVD, No Refunds, is one funny and thought provoking 65-minute comicfest on people and society. Doug’s blistering commentary on life is as hilarious as it is a punch to the snot locker and akin to George Carlin’s stuff, only more personal. Stanhope’s stuff is like fucking a chick and realizing half way through she’s on the rag: unpredictable, sometimes messy, and brings things to an unexpected new level, but the shock and awe on top of the great time makes things even better. This guy is currently my favorite comedian and I look forward to seeing him when he performs in Boston in October.
Are Pom-Poms called Pom-Poms because there are two of the things? If a cheerleader, or a weird sex date, holds a single Pom-Pom, does it then become simply a Pom? “Oh my gawd, I like so can not find like one of my Poms!”
  It is Friday. Only a few days ‘til Monday. What are you waiting for?

I was thinking; The Rolling Stones are The Rolling Stones, but they are also known as The Stones. Being that The Rolling Stones is their official name, would it be ok for me to call my band The Stones or is it more ok for The Rolling Stones to have two names since they’ve been around forever and released 800 zillion albums, and such?
In a vicious, unprovoked attack, I was beaned (above the right eye along my hairline) by a hard and heavy toy, as I tread water in a pool, launched by my two and half year old godson: the one I call Butters (he looks like Butters from South Park, though not two dimensional. I use to call him “Nips” because he has a broad chest and his nipples are far apart, but I caught too much slack so I stopped, for the most part.). I was watching my daughter and niece as they jumped off the diving board and didn’t even see it coming. It hurted and caused a sweet arse egg to lurch from my skull.
  Sometimes, a segment of white pop culture stems from black pop culture: words, phrases, fashion, music, etc. I often wonder how long does it take for black pop culture to be jacked by whitie and how soon after that same pop culture is dropped by black pop culturers.
  The ICONS Festival (formerly know as the Irish Connections Festival) kicks off tonight in Canton. MA with a concert featuring Black 47, The Saw Doctors and The Black Crowes. The concert starts at 8pm, gates open at 7pm. There are many other bands playing, including Dropkick Murphys and The Tossers on Sunday. Every year this thing is a lot of fun, even the free kiddie rides!
Here’s a DVD review thanks to Douglas.
  It is Friday and I’ve me a rack of baby back ribs to BBQ, a tub of my favorite salsa, a bag of my favorite chippies, some Harpoon IPA, some Capt, some Pepsi, my book will be out in about two weeks, and my six year old daughter was invited to join an invitation only "Broadway for Kids" theater program. Life is good. Yes it is…yes it is.

  8.7- The printer has the files for my book and it's off to the races. I am feeling mightily excited and nervous at the same time!
  If you are a Red Sox fan and like using Myspace, Sawxheads is for you; it combines the Sox and Myspace...pretty cool.
  Here's a CD review thanks to Mighty Ben.

Last night as we celebrated his birthday, Mighty Ben and I were soaked to the core after a woman sitting next to us bumped our table spilling both of our pints. Now, the woman and her man friend were apologetic and nice about the mishap and even offered to buy a round. However, the wench only bought one pint! I should have leaned over and asked her if she had two straws for us to share. 
  Due to last night and a planned party tomorrow, yer uncle denis is going to take it easy tonight. I expect all of you to make up for my slacking.

  7.27- Last night, three weeks of acting camp culminated with my six year old daughter landing the lead role of Goldilocks (you know, the home invader). Of course, I am one proud mofo, not so much for Reilly landing the "spotlight" role, but more because this reward was due to her working hard, doing well, and paying attention over the previous three weeks. Reilly was so excited about this acting stuff and really gave it her best which was seen up there on the stage. In fact, all the kids did very well, even the little evil girl who needlessly hit and bit Reilly. Great job to the teachers/instructors at Riverside Theater Works!
  I saw Knocked Up last week and loved it. It is great seeing all those fine people from Freaks & Geeks.  
  Ramping things up for the release of my book, a Myspace page has been set up for those interested. The book will be out sometime in August.
  Tonight, raise a pint and offer happy birthday cheers to Meaghan! Oh ya, last Friday was Mighty Ben's birthday, but I'll be taking him out next Thursday, so you can wait 'til then...
  This entertained and amused me like a monkey with a squeaky squeeze toy.
  It is Friday. It is the weekend.

  7.23- Askew Reviews writer Amy Bugbee and her husband wrote an adult movie (hubby Shane also directed) and here is my review. Please be over 18 (ya, right).

  7.13- My beloved Uncle recently celebrated a birthday, and as a gag gift, my other Uncle gave him a roll of toilet paper decorated with President Bush's face. A severe Bush hater, the birthday Uncle declared, "I'm not going to violate my ass with that man's face."
  While in the check-out line at the grocery store yesterday, I saw two women pay for some basic household food with welfare proceeds. After that transaction was complete, they used a fat wad of cash to pay for approx 4 giant steaks, fish, chicken, and three racks of ribs. Must be friggin' nice. People complain about America, but where else can someone on welfare afford flashy jewelry and proudly sport giant fake boobs?
   I watched Black Snake Moan last night and was most surprised at how misleading its trailer is. The movie is not what it appears and I enjoyed it, thoroughly. While I enjoyed the snot out of it, it was rather tough because my attention was being diverted by the smokin' hot (inside and out) woman who watched it with me. Damn, couldn't stop looking at her out of the corner of my eye. Owwwwwwww! Life is good. Yes it is...yes it is.
   As we watched our kids jump through a SpongeBob sprinkler, my next door neighbor told me how she spent the entire morning shopping for a dress to wear to a wedding and bought one, but decided to instead wear a dress she already had. Well, I saw her as she and her husband left for the wedding and boy oh boy did she make the right decision. I couldn't imagine a dress looking any better on her...and I mean that with the highest respect.
   Over the years, I have randomly posted "Where is Wendy James?" or "come to me Wendy James." Yesterday, I found Wendy James
  The other day I saw a television commercial for a razor that forever stays sharp; no need to replace the blade, ever. As part of the offer, if you buy one you get one free. My question is, why would you need more than one if the blade never goes dull? Of course, you also get a pair of kitchen shears as part of the deal and how they relate to a razor is beyond my tiny brain.
  Amazingly, here's a DVD review. Golly, I am so behind on reviews. 
  By George, there's only four bottles of Harpoon IPA in the fridge! Ah, but I do have a case of the stuff in the basement. However, between here and there is a black cat, an upright ladder that I must walk under, a mirror hanging by a thread, and a masked man holding a bloody machete lurking in the shadows. Ya, I'll risk it. Enjoy the weekend, for Monday will be here before you know it.    


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