Friday, December 21, 2012


Christmas is coming up, and I think the perfect gift for the misanthrope/degenerate in your life would be my new crime novel from MUSA Publishing called STRIP. Of course, I’m pretty biased, but if you’re on the fence about making this purchase, I’d like to mention that of those who have already read the book, not a single one of them seems to dislike it. In fact, they all seem to thoroughly enjoy it.

Still, you may or may not know any of those people, so what would their opinion matter to you, right? I guess I’ll have to give all of you a good incentive to purchase STRIP and help ensure that I get to publish a second novel with MUSA.

Well, it is Christmas, and ‘tis the season for gift-giving and all of that, so how does free stuff sound to you?

Here’s the deal: Buy STRIP. When you get to chapter 41, there is a scene between two characters named Will and Nancy. On page 171, Will does something to Nancy that freaks her the fuck out. Send me a private message on my Facebook, a direct message on my Twitter (@tusitalabruni), or send me an email at and tell me what Will did. (Eh, fuck it. If anyone’s still on MySpace, you can send me a private message there as well, at Everybody who does this (as well as sends me their physical addresses) will receive all three issues of TABARD INN, a magazine I edited back in the old days, each issue filled to the brim with brutal, ugly, and obscene stories.

Of course, if you live within walking distance, I’ll be more than happy to hand deliver them (it’ll save me a few bucks from sending them via media mail). And if you’ve already bought the book, this offer is open to you, as well, as a thank you to my readers.

STRIP can be purchased from these places: 

Barnes & Noble:

And if you don’t have an e-reader, you can get it in PDF form (and others) from MUSA here:

Thank you for your attention and consideration.

Thursday, December 20, 2012

COOL SHIT 12-20-12

DJANGO UNCHAINED #1:  I’m not in the habit of reading comic book adaptations, especially of movies that haven’t even been released yet, but writer Quentin Tarantino promises that it’s based on the script rather than the movie.  As per usual, he wrote too much, and a lot wound up getting axed.  I’m interested to see what didn’t make the grade.  Besides, what I read in this first issue doesn’t seem like a lot, so anyone who reads it probably won’t have anything ruined for them.  It’s probably just the first 20 minutes, tops, and it looks like an excellent homage to Sergio Leone by way of blaxploitation.  (Although it seems to have very little to do with the Franco Nero version of Django.)

BEFORE WATCHMEN:  MOLOCH #2:  This book has been kind of a surprise.  I didn’t know they’d planned on a book going into the life of the most prominent supervillain in the WATCHMEN universe, and it’s actually been pretty fun.  Too bad it’s only two issues long.  We get a good look behind and between the scenes, to understand what Ozymandius did a little bit more.  Wow, he was a ruthless motherfucker, and artist Eduardo Risso does a marvelous job of depicting his coldness.  (Working without Brian Azzarello, too!  That felt kind of weird, truth be told, kind of like seeing Steve Dillon work without Garth Ennis.)  The reveal in the end, though, is pretty fucking amazing.

HELLBLAZER #298:  Uh . . . remember how I said a while ago that I hoped writer Peter Milligan would kill John Constantine at the end of the series, just to fuck with DC?  Well, I might actually get my wish.  John suddenly feels convinced that he’s going to die within five days, and there is nothing that Epiphany can say to change his mind.  In fact, things start getting weirder until she comes around, and on the fateful day becomes overprotective of him.  But is she careful enough?  Well, I’ll let that last panel speak for itself.  Something tells me that the next two issues are going to be fucked the fuck up.  *sigh*  My third favorite comic has only two issues to go.  Poor Johnny.  He has no idea that he’s not headed for death, but for RAPE.  And maybe death, too.  It’s not the first time he’s died, though.  We’ll see.

LOCKE & KEY:  OMEGA #2:  With the passing of THE BOYS, LOCKE & KEY has been promoted to my favorite ongoing comic . . . just in time for it to end.  With each passing issue, an oft-forgotten side character seems to be becoming more and more important.  Rufus, a mentally handicapped teenager who mostly lives in a fantasy world, is the only one who knows that Bode doesn’t live in his own body anymore, and has been replaced by the murderous psychopath, Dodge.  Sadly, there isn’t much he can do locked away in an institute, so he decides to escape and see if he can save the day.  I can’t believe there are only five more issues to go.

Tuesday, December 18, 2012


Drake made it to the bridge first. He ran through the door and vaulted over the railing, landing in Everson’s seat. The control panel flashed all of its lights. A good sign.

Drake turned on the comm. “Engine room, this is the bridge. Dirk, do you read me?”


“Dirk! Answer me!”


“I don’t know if you can hear me, but we’re getting out of here. Give me everything you got.”

Pamela and Janna showed up next, both panting and sweating. Pamela went to Drake’s side, but Janna noticed something else. She peered out of the window and pushed her glasses up the sweat-slicked bridge of her nose. “What is that?”

Drake looked up and saw two things: first, they were finally nearing the core of the ghost planet, and some kind of structure floated there; and secondly, a ship was approaching them. The Vespucci, main vehicle of the Raleigh Project.

“That is our most recent task,” a voice at the door said.

Drake whirled around only to find Snichlo standing behind him, aiming a rifle at the captain’s head.

“We want bodies, right?” the alien asked. “What good are bodies without a world upon which to live?”

“You’re building a new planet?” Janna asked. “From what?”

“Mostly from supplies provided by the Raleigh folks. Some parts will be the very few remaining fragments of the original planet. It will also be made from pieces of the Duke 12 when we dismantle it. It won’t be the same as home, but it will be a place for us to survive.”

“And the Vespucci?” Drake asked.

“My friends,” Snichlo said. “They’re going to help me sober you three up, then clear the way for your . . . spiritual conversions.”

“Why’d you kill LT?” Janna asked.

Snichlo ignored her. “As for this unfortunate problem with power . . . .” He touched the control panel, and everything went dark again. The ship’s energy-hum faded away, and the one good engine ground to a halt.

Drake saw his chance and took it; while Snichlo smiled at his own work, the captain clocked him across the cheek and put a follow-up on the jaw-line. Both were powerful punches, and if Jason had still been Jason, he would have been floored for sure. But Snichlo merely recoiled out of surprise, then turned his dead stare on Drake.

Drake sighed. “Did you even feel that?”

“A little.” Snichlo put the butt of his rifle into Drake’s face, and the captain slumped back into his chair, unconscious and bleeding.

Pamela shrieked, holding both hands to her mouth, and Janna touched her shoulder. “It’s okay,” the scientist said.

“We’re going to die,” Pamela whispered.

“Not really, my dears.” Snichlo approached them. “You’ll just be trapped in your own heads while we take over. It will be like sitting in the backseat of a ship someone else is piloting.”

“Yeah,” Janna said. “That sounds like fun.”

“Now, shall we go down to the common room?”

“We can find our own way.”

Snichlo smiled. “Of course. But wouldn’t you stop off somewhere on the way for more alcohol? That would prolong my plan, as you well know.”

“So what?” Janna said. “We know we’re doomed. Might as well have some fun before we become prisoners in our own bodies, right?”

“Wrong. We’re on a time schedule. Let’s go.” He nodded toward the door.


On the way down to the common room, Janna wished she could talk freely with Pamela. Ms. Goody-Goody’s hair looked like a bird’s nest, and her eyes stared off into space. Whenever someone made a sudden movement, she flinched. She’d clearly given up hope.

If Snichlo hadn’t been pointing his rifle at their backs, Janna would be able to reassure her and mention what she’d learned on the bridge. Snichlo knew that they knew about the booze, which was bad enough, but he didn’t know what Janna now suspected.

Snichlo pushed them forward, through the door to the common room. “Lisg, keep an eye on these two. Mplifsy and his crew are almost here. I’ll be in the docking bay, should you need me.”

The door closed, and Janna said, “You guys want to play poker?”


The air lock clicked, and Snichlo opened it up to let in five men wearing spacesuits. When they removed their helmets, two of them revealed themselves to be women, but all five were surprisingly large. Pillars of muscle, they stood and waited for their instructions.

“As soon as we can inhabit the three remaining survivors,” Snichlo said, “we’ll tow this ship in and start dismantling it. Mplifsy, how is the planet restructuring coming along?”

“Good,” a blond-haired giant said. “The Duke 12 got here just in time.”

“We should contact earth,” one of the women said. “We’ll probably burn through this new equipment fast. I don’t want to take a break while we wait for more supplies.”

“Right,” said the other woman. “We don’t know a lot about these bodies, so who knows how long they’ll last?”

“It will all be taken care of,” Snichlo said. “Mplifsy, take your crew and start evaluating the Duke 12.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ll be on the bridge.”


“So . . . you’re Pamela Reilly.” When Pamela didn’t respond, Lisg stood behind her and stroked her hair. “Winter really, really hates you.”

“Leave her alone,” Janna said.

“Shut up, cunt,” Lisg said, her voice even and soothing. “You’re kind of homely, and that’s putting it politely. I’ll bet Snichlo just kills you.”

Janna, who had grown a thick skin over years of being made fun of, laughed. “You’ll have to do better than that, bitch. I don’t scare easily.”

Lisg paused. “I’m not trying to scare you. It’s fact. Why do you think Aladnadine killed your lieutenant?”

Janna opened her mouth to say something, but in the face of such information, she had nothing.

Lisg turned her attention back to Pamela. “That Captain Drake is quite the hunk. Winter thinks about him all the time, although she’s troubled by how much he looks like her father. He raped her, you know.”

Pamela blinked, but she offered no further reaction.

“I think I’m going to fuck the shit out of Drake,” Lisg said. “Before he’s inhabited and after. Just so I can compare.”

No response.

“He’s got a big dick, but does he know how to use it? Eh, Pammie?”

Finally, something sparked behind Pamela’s eyes. Lisg didn’t see it because she was standing behind her.

“Maybe I’ll take you for a spin,” Lisg whispered. “What do you think?” She licked Pamela’s earlobe.

Pamela’s lips compressed, and she reached behind her, instinctively grabbed Lisg’s hair and pulled forward, squatting down as she moved. The alien gave a cry as she hurled over Pamela’s shoulders, where she fell to the floor.

Janna scooped up Lisg’s rifle and turned it on Winter’s body. “Don’t move.”

Lisg grinned, a rivulet of blood running down from a cut on her temple. “You wouldn’t kill your friend.”

Pamela leaned forward and punched Lisg in the face, hard, on the tip of the chin. The alien slumped, unconscious. “Winter’s not my friend, bitch.”

“Uh . . . ,” Janna said. “Great work.”

Pamela panted, trying to catch her breath. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that. I hope Winter’s still in there, and I hope she felt that.”

“Can I leave you alone with her?” Janna asked. “Because I need to get that vodka.”

“I won’t kill her. I’m satisfied. For now.”

“Okay. Do you need the gun?”

Pamela sat down on Winter’s chest, pinning the unconscious body’s arms with her knees. “I’m good.”

“Before I go, there’s one more thing—-“

“Don’t worry! She’ll be alive when you get back!”

“Not about that,” Janna said. “There’s another way we can beat these things. Their leader doesn’t want us to escape from the magnetic pull of their ghost planet, otherwise he would have left the power on.”

“So what?”

“I don’t think they can move beyond this place. If we can get out of here, I think they’ll be forced to vacate our friends.”

“Oh.” Pamela looked down at Winter’s face. A bruise was spreading across the dimple in her chin. The thought of Drake kissing that dimple set Pamela’s heart on fire. “Better get that vodka. Just in case.”


When Drake came to, he was sitting next to Snichlo, who gazed out the window at the galaxy around them. “It’s a beautiful sight, Captain. But it wears off after floating among the cosmic dust for the first year.”

“It’s only a bunch of stars,” Drake said. He rubbed his face and felt some dried blood crumble and fall away. His palm now looked like a pale solar system filled with maroon planets.

“You lack a sense of wonder,” Snichlo said. “Maybe that’s why your race took so long to wander this far from your planet.”

“Nah. We’re just too busy doing important things. You know, getting laid and killing each other.”

Snichlo turned to Drake. “Joking aside, don’t you want to leave all that bullshit behind? You can. Just let us take over your bodies. We can be gentle.”

Drake snorted. “Don’t worry. I’m just gonna’ put the tip in.”

“Fine. Laugh about it while you can. You’re going to be very bored when you’re locked deep down in your mind. There aren’t many chuckles to be had down there.”

Just to keep up his devil-may-care front, Drake continued to laugh, but he decided that he would kill himself before letting any of Snichlo’s buddies take over his body.


Janna propped the rifle next to her desk and picked up the glass of vodka. She still had a bit of a buzz going, but she wanted to play it safe. Two quick, big gulps went down her throat. When she reached for the bottle, she saw a plastic water container, and inspiration struck.

In her bathroom, she dumped out the water and replaced it with vodka. Since the container’s label clearly said DRINKING WATER and had the manufacturer’s label on it, she thought the trick might actually work.

There was still an inch of alcohol in the bottle, so she thought she might finish it off before going back to the common room. She stepped back into her bedroom only to see, sharply illuminated by the beam of her flashlight, Rico standing in the doorway to her quarters.

How often had she fantasized about something that started like this? She had to remind herself that this was not really Rico, and she forced her mind to replay the scene in the commissary.

“I don’t see it,” Fyub said. “Rico thinks you’re an ugly bitch, but you’re not that bad.”

“Uh . . . .” Janna felt a sudden heat between her legs, and she knew thinking about Rico and Winter was not working.

“I know you want this.” Fyub waved a hand over Rico’s body. “It’s yours, if you want. And you don’t even have to deal with Rico. He’s kind of an asshole, don’t you think?”

Fyub approached, and Janna wanted to throw the vodka bottle at him. The heat said no. The heat knew she’d never have another chance at Rico’s gorgeous body.

Softly, Fyub took the bottle from her and set it on the desk. He leaned forward and gently planted a kiss on Jeni’s lips. She let their mouths touch for a moment, then kissed him back. Their hands wandered all over each others bodies, and Janna could feel him growing hard against her palm, marveling at how big he was.

He pulled back. “Baby, your lips are kind of dry. Do you have any lip balm, or something?”

The spell broke. Janna licked her lips, and they were kind of chapped. But now she knew how stupid she was acting. Since when did she start looking at Rico merely as a sex object?

“I . . . uh . . . have some water here,” she said. She set the flashlight aside and lifted the container to her lips. Her mouth filled up with vodka, and she mocked gulping it down. She leaned forward for another kiss . . .

. . . and spat the booze into Fyub’s mouth. He gagged, swallowing most of it, and staggered around, holding his throat. He tried to cough it up, but it was too late. He turned his hateful glare on Janna, and he tried to say something, but no words came out.

Finally, he collapsed, and when he looked up, he was Rico again. His face was strained, red, and snot and saliva caked his mouth, but he was Rico.

“Sorry,” he said. “What he was talking about . . . you know. I’m sorry.”

What did I ever see in him? she wondered. “No time for apologies now. Let’s get out of here and save everyone, okay?”


As the Duke 12 came closer to the ghost planet’s core, the project became clearer. Drake felt stunned by the magnitude of their work. It would never be an actual planet, of course—-it would be more like a giant space station—-but it was big. Bigger than the captain could have ever imagined.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Snichlo said.

Drake’s cheeks burned, embarrassed to be caught admiring something that belonged to an enemy. “Eh. I’ve seen worse.”

“This is just phase one. Imagine how grand it will be when we complete it. Hell, you’ll be here. You’ll be inhabited, but you’ll be here.”

Drake grunted. “Right.”

“Do you still think you can defeat us?”

“Probably not. But I’m an optimistic guy. How long do we have before we get possessed?”

Snichlo frowned at the p-word. “I’m going to guess ten hours.”

Drake looked at his watch. “We have fourteen before we suffocate. Maybe less now that your goons are on board, taking up oxygen. Cutting it close, don’t you think?”

“When you’re all ours, I’ll turn on the engines. We’ll be fine.”

Drake eyed the pulse rifle leaning against the wall. He’d never get it, but he could live with that. It wasn’t suicide-run time yet. He wanted to use these remaining hours to think of a plan.


Pamela yanked Winter’s mouth open unnecessarily hard and pinched her nose shut while Janna poured some vodka down her throat. Winter gagged, and when she tried to spit it out, Pamela clamped her hand down on her mouth. The booze had nowhere else to go, so Winter swallowed.

“Are you you now?” Pamela asked.

The hatred in Winter’s eyes answered her sufficiently. When she could talk, Winter said, “Why’d you have to hit me so hard?”

“Sorry,” Pamela said, smiling. “The alien’s strong. We had to make sure.”

Winter sat up, probing the inside of her mouth with her fingers. “You fucking bitch! One of my teeth is loose!” She wiggled a lower front tooth to demonstrate.

“Lots of people have fake teeth,” Janna said. “All of my uppers are implants because of a sickness I had when I was a kid.”

“Shut up,” Winter said.

“Never mind that shit now,” Rico said. “I have a plan.”

“That’s awesome,” Pamela said. “I was starting to think we were doomed.”

“Not yet,” Rico said. “There’s seven of them, right?”

“No, two,” Janna said. “FNG and Ben.”

“Five more just arrived,” Winter said.

“Right,” said Rico. “To dismantle the Duke for parts. You guys did real good tricking Fyub and Lisg, but we are waaaay outnumbered. Deception’s not going to work.”

“What else do we have?” Pamela asked.

“It’s a good thing we’re all drunks. There’s a metric shit-ton of whiskey on board.”

“But it does us no good without a delivery system,” Janna said.

“Ah, but we do have one. In the wash bay, there’s a pressure gun. It’s loaded with soapy water right now, but all we have to do is replace it with booze.”

“Two problems. First: the power’s out.”

“It works on a manual pump. Crank it up, and it’s ready to go.”

Janna nodded. “Okay, but what about number two? The hose doesn’t reach outside the wash bay.”

“Lure them down there,” Winter said. “When Rico and I first got possessed, we practically ruined the commissary while fucking. These things haven’t been laid in a long time, so Pamela and I could get them there with sex appeal.”

Pamela grimaced at the thought of working with Winter like that. But it had to be done, if they were going to survive.

“Two are women,” Rico said.

“So you go with them,” Janna said. “I’ll wait with the pressure gun and spray them down.”

“Do you know how to use it?”

“It’s a pressure gun. How hard could it be?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Winter said.

“Let’s get down to the supply room,” Rico said. “We’ll need just about every bottle we can find."

To be concluded!

Monday, December 17, 2012


Many of you are horror fans, so you probably have intimate knowledge of Brian Keene’s body of work, especially his novels published through the now-defunct (and treacherous) Dorchester Publications. You might even be aware of his reprints and new fiction with the wonderful Deadite Press. A select few might even know all about his Maelstrom offerings, but of those select few, how many of you actually bought them?

Well . . . 300 of you to be exact. They’re of a very limited run. So far, there have been three Maelstrom deals, and the most recent consists of a collection of stories by Geoff Cooper, a print edition of Keene’s online novel, DELUGE, and SUNDANCING.

If you’ve come to SUNDANCING expecting more of the Keene-brand horror, you’re bound to be disappointed. If you’re looking for something more along the lines of his HAIL SATEN essays, you’ve come to the right place. If nothing else, the cover image of Keene should give that away.

Right off the bat, he tells us that this is a fictionalized version of what really happened. However, as one reads the book, one rapidly comes to the conclusion that this is a completely true story, where the only fictionalized part of it is the change of names to protect the innocent, if by “innocent,” one means Keene himself, from lawsuits.

Many of you are probably aware of how badly the last couple of years went for Keene. This book finds him at the very bottom of his well of misery, desperate for money that would pay the bills and keep food on his family’s table. (Remember, when Dorchester went south, they owed Keene about half his year’s earnings, and they eventually settled everything by giving the rights to his books back to him, hence Deadite’s reissue of his work.) However, something magical happened: not only did he sell the movie rights to his novel, GHOUL, the movie actually got made, and Hollywood sent him a big check (and it didn’t even bounce). Now, he has been invited out to the Sundance premier, and he’s decided to take his partner (horror writer Mary SanGiovanni) and a group of very loyal friends with him for a grand celebration.

What follows is an incredible story of love, anger, loyalty, suckfishery, heavy drinking, swindling, and stomping on the terra. At one point, Keene refers to himself as the lovechild of Richard Laymon and Hunter S. Thompson, and to those familiar with him, this is no exaggeration. As his adventures in Park City, UT, unfold, one can’t help but marvel at it. Like the time when Keene takes on Corbin Bernsen’s assistant and a WB executive on a shuttle bus. Or how about when he starts a snowball fight with MODERN FAMILY star Nolan Gould in the middle of the movie’s premier? Or best of all, how the hell did he manage to defeat a long standing unwritten rule of Sundance by filling half of the audience with his fans instead of the usual Hollywood suckfish?! That last one crowns the book, and it is a true testament to Keene’s relationship with his fans.

If you’re a member of the FUKU (and you know who you are), you need to read this book. Chances are good that you won’t get to, since there are only 300 copies, and it will never be reprinted (per the Maelstrom rules). Luckily, Keene fans are well known for their kindness and generosity (at least if you’re cool), so you can probably borrow it from one of them. Just be careful not to spill whiskey on it.

Friday, December 14, 2012


As many of you are aware, I’m very reluctant to adopt new technology. It has a tendency to clutter up my already over-cluttered life. As a result, I spent most of my adult life without internet at home, and I use a prepaid cell phone that I bought when smartphones were just getting big. Also, as many of you are aware, I gave in and got the internet at home. I no longer have to depend on work or the library for my online needs.

Over the course of the years, I’ve heard many stories about how the internet is an awesome porn mecca, where you can find every fetish imaginable, and most of it is free. There simply isn’t enough time to jerk off to all the porn at your fingertips. Naturally, being an aficionado of hardcore sex scenes, I decided to have a look-see (a thought encouraged by the top-of-the-line anti-virus program that came with the laptop I bought). Armed with tissues and lotion, I sat down with my boxers around my ankles and prepared to enter a world whose trails have all been blazed by many enterprising masturbators before me.

Sad to say, it wasn’t as exciting as I thought it would be. I looked at a lot of awful shit, and afterward, I fell back on my porn classics to rub one out. But I’ve discovered a lot about humanity. Oh yes. Many of it, I’d heard about but never seen. Was I shocked? Not particularly. Just weirded out, that’s all. (I did find some good stuff, though, as you’ll see.)

But I didn’t do this merely for personal gain of knowledge (or even self-administered orgasms). No, I traveled to the edge of acceptable taste (and maybe a bit beyond), and I have come back to report to you what I learned. It is as follows, in no particular order:

--Vaginas are a lot more elastic than I’d thought. I saw a guy shoving his forearm all the way up a woman, and she didn’t seem bothered by the lack of lube. Bottles, baseballs, all sorts of shit fits in there. Shockingly enough, when all of that stuff gets pulled out, we aren’t left with a pink sock hanging down from between the legs of women.  Also, I found a few women who were willing and able to give themselves the D-Dolla' Holla'.  (For those unfamiliar with this move, check it out:

--Assholes are pretty elastic, too. I wish I could take back the guy shoving a soda can up his ass. It did not look comfortable. Oh yeah, and one awful word: goatse.

--Dickholes are—shudder!—elastic, too. Holy fucking fuckity-fuck, I saw a guy shove a screwdriver into his dickhole, and it wasn’t the sharp end. No, HE PUT THE FUCKING HANDLE UP THERE! And when he pulled it out, he didn’t seem bothered by the TRICKLE OF FUCKING BLOOD COMING OUT OF THAT MOST INTIMATE OF PLACES!

--If genital mutilation is your thing, there are plenty of pictures of that. Chopped off clits and ball-less scrotums, it’s all there for you to stare at. Even severed cocks. Not sure if that’s legal. It probably is, depending on the intent of the website.

--There is one thing I discovered that I really, really liked: self nude portraits in the mirror, taken by camera phones. There is something really intimate about that, and it gives me a rod like nothing else. Well, almost anything else. More on that in a moment.

--There is a surprising amount of men out there who can suck their own dicks. Like, a lot. More than you think. Some of them just have really big cocks, others are really flexible. Most of these videos can be found on gay porn sites, as it’s not a very hetero thing to do. Very few people like to cum in their own mouths. There are a few more who will cum on their faces. Most unbend from themselves before letting loose.

--Most trannies seem to be able to do the selfsuck thing.  I saw one who seemed really disgusted by accidentally cumming in her own mouth.

--Just about every celebrity has been photographed naked. Like, 98% of them. I like these pictures. I like the women not because of any sexual thing, but because I appreciate the nude female body as a work of art. And I don’t mind seeing the dudes naked, either, mostly because I want to know how I measure up. I got Dennis Hopper beaten by far. Michael Fassbender? Not so much. Oh yeah, and there’s celebrity porn. Now that I’ve seen Kim Kardashian fuck, I can safely say there’s nothing redeeming about her at all, and Paris Hilton couldn’t suck a dick to save her life.  There are a lot of celebrity fakes, but I don't count them.  Fuckin' cheaters.


--*ahem* Anyway, there seems to be a lot of incest porn out there. Most of it’s fake, just something to get people with mommy/daddy issues all hot and excited. Some of it might not be. I’m looking at you, Russia. (It should be noted that all participants are of age.)  In Russia, the old ladies are just ugly enough, and the guys have dicks just small enough, and both participants look just similar enough, that this could be actual incest porn.

--Are you familiar with sleeping porn? That’s when guys feel up sleeping (and/or drunk) chicks and stick their dicks down their throats. It’s all staged, but still, that’s a weird fetish to have.

--There are a lot of public masturbators. Guys riding the bus and jerking off, usually with a woman in the background who can’t see what’s going on. Guys jerking off while driving. Guys running naked around forest preserves. Guys masturbating into urinals and public toilets. Creepy stuff. But there’s something even creepier than that . . . .

--This is super-creepy: guys who jerk off in crowds. But they do it so stealthily, no one notices. Some of these guys will just whip it out and gently touch it to some stranger’s ass. No one notices, because they just think it’s that accidental jostling that happens in crowds. This usually leads to cumming on this stranger’s ass.

--Girls with glasses porn. I’ll admit, I liked this one. Glasses turn me on, as do fishnet stockings. Holy fuck, if I ever find a porn with a bespectacled woman wearing fishnets, I think I’m going to wear my dick out.

--Amputee porn? Yeah, I’ve heard of it. Never saw it before, though. The same goes for rape porn. It’s not real rape, it’s all staged, but still, that was the first time I ever saw that. Boy, was my face red!

--Exercise porn. An attractive, muscle bound couple work out for a while, and then they fuck on the exercise equipment. Not really my thing. I didn’t watch much of this.

--There’s a lot of fake porn, too. Weird stuff, like guys with two dicks, or guys with dicks down to their ankles.

--Then there's this guy who has a cock so long and thick it should be considered a deformity.  He loves his cock so much, he takes pictures of it all the time.  And he even takes requests for poses.  A lot of women (and quite a few men), compliment him on this and publicly fantasize about what they would do with him.  Personally, I would have The Fear if this cock was within a mile radius of me.  No shit, this thing could be classified as a weapon.  I wouldn't be surprised if he wound up killing someone with it someday.  Probably not one of the women with elastic vaginas, though.  They'll be OK.

--One last thing: I think I might be in love with Katie Morgan. She has the most amazing porn voice I’ve ever heard, and she’s really good at her job. To top it all off, she’s got a podcast on Kevin Smith’s SModcast, which proves she’s not just a pretty face.

I think that’s about it. Did I forget anything? What turns you on? What disgusts you? Let me know in the comments below.

One final note: I’m not judging anyone with this post. Whatever’s your thing is your thing. As long as the participants are willing and of age, I don’t give a shit what you watch to get your rocks off. But I also like to know stuff, so feel free to be as open and frank as you want to be. Let’s have some fun with this.

Thursday, December 13, 2012

COOL SHIT 12-13-12

CROSSED:  BADLANDS #19:  Wow.  Avatar is really coming up with some great CROSSED covers of late.  This one isn’t quite as fucked up as the last one, but still.  Holy fuck!  And would you look at that:  Simon Spurrier, who writes the CROSSED webcomic, is now turned loose on the monthly series.  Can he live up to everything that has come before him?  He gives us the interesting story of a probation officer who falls in love with one of her ex-cons, despite his very heavy connection with the Russian mob and his drug habit.  And now that everyone is going Crossed, she knows that she will see her beloved once again before the end of the world, even if he’s one of them.  Sure enough, he is, but he still has some kind of grasp on who he was.  I’m kind of iffy on that one.  The Crossed are supposed to be mindless, ruthless perverts.  But Spurrier offers an interesting explanation.  We’ll see where he goes with this.  Also, Raulo Caceres is an absolute fiend.  He is the perfect artist for this book, and I hope he stays with it for a long time.
THE TRANSFORMERS:  ROBOTS IN DISGUISE #12:  I know, I’ve gone on like a lunatic about how awesome it is to see Starscream in politician mode.  I can’t get enough of it.  I’ve never been a fan of him or his paint-by-numbers treachery, but these days, he is hands-down my favorite Transformer.  And now Megatron has come back and fucked everything up for him.  I can’t wait to see how this works out for Starscream.  Moreso, I can’t wait to see how Bumblebee fares in this one.  As soon as Megatron shows up, Bumblebee gives the order to kill him in front of everybody.  Here’s the problem:  Without Megatron, Cybertron would have surely perished at the end of the Chaos storyline.  Technically, Megatron is a hero, and a lot of people choose to see it that way.  They save Megatron’s life, and that’s enough to completely fuck up Starscream’s plans.  I can’t wait to see where all of this leads.
THE WALKING DEAD #105:  Now that Carl is in Negan’s world, things get really, really uncomfortable.  For the first time, we see a bit of humanity to Negan, but for every tiny piece of ordinary he gives us, he heaps on a garbage pile of sheer violence.  Oddly enough, he seems fascinated by Carl, and instead of killing him outright, poor Carl gets an even worse punishment.  The song is really fucked up, and so is Negan’s suggestion when it comes to Carl’s bandage.  Somehow, it’s even more fucked up than Glenn’s scene with Lucille in #100.

Tuesday, December 11, 2012



     When Pamela and Janna stepped into the commissary, they found Drake sitting on the floor, his back to the wall, staring into space.  His eyes were red, but he no longer cried.  He acknowledged neither of his crewmates, not until they approached him.

     “Are you all right?” Pamela asked.

     Drake sniffed and rubbed at his nose.  Checked his fingers.  “They killed Everson.  Shot him in the fucking back.”

     “What?” Janna asked.

     Pamela sat next to him and shifted to the side so she could face her former lover.  “I’m sorry, Philbin.  Really sorry.”

     His chest juddered, and he turned his hot face to Pamela’s shoulder, squeezing his burning eyes shut.  More tears threatened to sprout, but nothing came.

     She cradled his head and didn’t say anything.

     “Where’s his body?” Janna asked.  “Maybe I can do—-“

     “He’s in the freezer,” Drake said.  His muffled voice still managed to echo throughout the room.

     “Oh.  Okay.”

     After a moment, Drake pulled his face away from Pamela and wiped at his moist, shining face.  “They have Jason, Rico, Ben, and Winter.  That leaves us and Dirk.”

     “Dirk’s working on the engines again,” Janna said.

     “Good.  There’s something else.  I don’t know why, but these things don’t want us drinking booze.  Maybe it shuts off receptors or something and makes it hard to possess us.  Have either of you had anything?”

     Janna and Pamela exchanged a glance and shook their heads.  “Dirk did,” Pamela said.  “I could smell it on his breath.”

     “Good,” Drake said.  “I’ve had some, so we need to get a few shots into you guys.  The first stop is my quarters.  I’ll explain on the way, but we have to hurry.  The asshole in Jason is sending for his friends.”

     “Jason?” Janna asked.  Then, she slapped her forehead.  “Right.  FNG.  Sorry.”


     Ben jumped for the eyeholes above him, but no matter how hard he tried, they never came any closer.  He figured it was because none of this was physical, but he couldn’t stand by and do nothing.  Aladnadine had already killed Everson, and Dirk was next on his list.

     “Hey!” he yelled.  “Don’t do this!  Please!”

     Aladnadine remained silent.

     “I’ll give you anything!  Just don’t kill my friend!  Please!”  The words were out of his hypothetical mouth before he realized that he had nothing more to give.  The alien had it all.


     Dirk looked up from his work when he saw the circle of light dance over Engine Six.  He turned and relaxed when he saw it was only Ben.  His friend held a flashlight and rifle.

     “Jesus Christ,” Dirk said.  “You scared me for a second, there.”

     “What’s up?” Ben asked.  “How’s the repair going?”

     “It’d be easier to fuck a cactus.  But I think I’m finally getting somewhere.  That bump on my head must’ve knocked something loose.  Gimme two hours, and we’ll be on our way.”

     Ben grimaced.  “These aliens.  They killed LT.”

     “What?  You’re shitting me, right?”

     “Drake sent me down to guard you, just to make sure we get out of here before someone else gets dead.”

     “Aw, man.  That sucks.  Everson was an asshole, but he was kind of funny.  How’s Cap taking it?”

     “Rough.  But you know him.  He’s got a plan.”

     “Thank Christ.  ‘Cause I’ve got nothing.”

     “Just get us out of here, bro.  Things are getting scary around here.”

     “You bet.”  Dirk turned back to Engine Six, and Aladnadine aimed the pulse rifle at the back of the mechanic’s skull.


     Drake rushed into his room and set up three glasses.  He poured whiskey into each one, almost to the brim, and he handed two to the ladies.  “Drink up.”

     “Jesus,” Janna said.  “I only weigh one-twenty-five.  This might kill me.”

     “Drink just enough for a buzz,” Drake said.  “We need to keep our heads, but the booze needs to stay in our blood for a few hours.”

     Pamela shrugged and downed a quarter of her glass without so much as a grimace.

     Janna sighed.  “I hate this stuff.  I have vodka in my quarters.  I could—-“

     “This is a priority,” Drake said.  “Drink up.  That’s an order.”

     Janna took a swallow and gagged.  Weakly, she said, “We’re not military, Drake.”

     “I’m still the captain, and what I say goes.  Now, what do we have in the shipping hold?  Anything that would be of use to us?”

     “The manifest is in my quarters, too.”

     “Janna, I know you’re the scientist in charge of the Raleigh Project.  Just tell me what you know.”

     Janna drank again.  “I don’t know.  Just basic supplies.”


     “Not on your life.”

     Drake pulled his hair back from his forehead.  “Okay.  Our next priority is to trick one of these things into drinking booze.  Vodka sounds like the right idea.”

     “Then we can use the one as a spy to trap the others,” Pamela said.

     Drake noticed her empty glass.  “More?”

     She hiccupped.  “I’m fine.”

     “Winter would be a good choice,” Janna said.  “If we got her, we could then get Rico.  The others would follow.”

     “Good idea,” Drake said.  “How do we get her?”

     “Um . . . .”  Janna scratched her head, a weird, pained smile on her face.  “I guess you could do it, sir.”


     Aladnadine’s finger tightened on the trigger just as Dirk flipped a switch, and the engine room filled with a revving sound.  Slowly, the lights powered up, and the air pumps coughed back to life.

     “Yeah, motherfucker!”  Dirk jumped up and raised a fist above his head.  “Am I the man, or what?”

     He turned and saw the gun pointed at his head.  The smile faded from his lips as he looked down the barrel.  “Um.”

     “Shut it off,” Aladnadine said.

     “Hey, look.  I only have one engine online.  It’s barely enough to keep life support systems on.  We kind of need that.”

     “We like it better in the dark.”

     “Well, shut it off yourself.”  Dirk paused, waiting.  When Aladnadine made no move, he continued, “Thought so.  You can’t do it.”

     “Shut it down, or I’ll shut you down.”


     “No,” Pamela said.  “Absolutely not.  This is not an option.”

     “Didn’t you just dump me?” Drake asked.  “Besides, this is for the greater good.  If I don’t do this, we could all die.  You could die.”

     “Haven’t you hurt me enough?” Pamela asked.  “It was bad enough that I knew you had a family back home, that I’d never have you to myself, but then you had to fuck that psycho bitch?  Why?  What does she have that’s so special?”

     “Guys?” Janna said.

     “Do you really want to get into this?” Drake asked.

     “Since we’re about to die?” Pamela asked.  “Sure.  Why not?”

     “I love you, Pammie.  You’re fun.  Responsible.  Smart.  If I could, I’d settle down with you.  You’re the kind of girl I’d bring home to Mom.”

     Janna tried again:  “Guys?”

     “And that’s why you cheated on me?” Pamela asked.

     “Kind of, yeah.  For one, you never sucked my dick, no matter how many times I’ve gone down on you.”

     Pamela rolled her eyes.  “Oh, God.”

     “You wouldn’t let me do facials.  No back door stuff.  Nothing . . . weird, or risky.  I’m surprised you let me go beyond missionary.”

     Janna gagged.

     “You’re so fucking superficial,” Pamela said.  She wiped at her cheeks and refused to look at the captain.

     “If these things are superficial, why didn’t you do them?”

     “Because it’s gross!”

     “Jesus.  I started this relationship because I was lonely.  I needed someone to fuck.  But I need to get off, too.  You never gave a shit about my needs.  You’re one of the most selfish lovers I’ve ever known.  Winter?  She let me do those things.  And she was happy about it.”

     “You inconsiderate prick!”

     “Me?!  You’re the one who—-!“

     “Guys!” Janna shrieked.

     Drake and Pamela whirled on her in unison and shouted, “What?!”

     At that moment, the lights snapped on, and fresh air pumped from the ventilation system.  The room temperature, which had fallen considerably, warmed up.

     “Dirk did it,” Pamela said, her rage forgotten.

     “I don’t feel all of the engines,” Drake said.  “Maybe he got one of them going, but that’s it.”

     “We need to get out of here,” Janna said.  “Captain, let’s get to the bridge and get away from this place.”

     “Right.  Let’s go.”  As they ran to get on deck, Drake couldn’t help but think, Saved by the bell.


     When the common room lit up, Snichlo cursed and grabbed the weapon he’d gotten off of Everson.  “Fyub, check on Aladnadine.  Make sure he completes his mission.”

     The thing inside Rico nodded and took up the rifle he’d gotten from the armory before meeting up with Snichlo.

     As soon as he was gone, Winter’s body asked, “What about me?”

     “Lisg, I want you to stay here in case the captain and his crew decide to stop by.  And be careful.”

     She nodded, and Snichlo ran for the bridge.  He didn’t think Drake would be showing his face in the common room, but the captain would be a fool if he didn’t try to blast out of the ghost planet’s core.


     Dirk considered the thing inside Ben and decided it wouldn’t kill him.  Since the guy had no technical skills, he needed someone who did.  The only one on board who knew everything about the ship was Dirk.  Sure, Jason knew a few things, but not as much as the mechanic.

     Armed with this knowledge, Dirk thought it would be best to play it tough.  Besides, if he could get the other engines going, they’d be able to escape.  He’d be a hero.

     “Sorry, buddy,” he said.  “I’m getting back to work.  Shoot me if you gotta’, but—-“

     Aladnadine fired, spreading hunks of Dirk all over Engine Six.  “Dumb bastard.”

To be continued!

Monday, December 10, 2012

NOT A GOOD IDEA: A review of California MoonShine

Every once in a while, someone thinks it’s a good idea to make legal moonshine. Anyone else remember Georgia Moon? At least that company thought to bottle their product in mason jars.

Behold! Now we have California MoonShine! And one look at this bottle will make any true moonshine aficionado shake their heads with disgust. First of all, it’s shaped like a wine bottle. Secondly, the cork is a rubber piece of shit (even though it’s fairly effective). There is even a picture of a flower on the label. Who is this shit made for? Pretentious bastards? And who the hell makes moonshine in California? Please, leave it up to the professionals in the American south. Even the slogan, “Made right on the left coast,” just screams DOUCHEBAG! The biggest offense? It’s a mere 100 proof. The greatest genuine moonshine usually went up to 190 proof. Granted, that might be too much for the booze market, who usually keeps their products at a reasonable 80 proof, but don’t forget, there are some that go up to 151. Why not have the balls to at least match that?

As always, the true test does not come from any marketing scheme or bottle label. One whiff of this vile poison informs you that if you go forward with your plans to drink this, you will probably make a lot of bad decisions. And the taste . . . wow. While it may not live up to any other expectations, at least the fucker tastes like the real thing. While to the seasoned moonshine drinker, it might be a bit gentler on the palate, to the rest of us, it’s a beast. Not only that, but you feel the effects pretty quickly. Two sips should get you buzzed pretty well, if you can stomach the taste enough to try for a second sip.

So, all in all, not bad for a moonshine distilled in California. While it goes about its business from a completely irrational direction, it at least does a great job of doing what it’s supposed to do: get you fucked up, good and proper.

Friday, December 7, 2012


G.I. Joe.  The Transformers.  Voltron.  Thundercats.  The Masters of the Universe.  They’re all great ‘Eighties toys, TV shows, and comic books.  But there are a few franchises that seem to have been forgotten by everyone.  In fact, I question a lot of my friends on this topic, and there seem to be three that NO ONE remembers:  Centurions, Dino-Riders, and Sectaurs.

At this time, there is only one other person I know who remembers Sectaurs, so I thought I’d take a look at a great forgotten franchise by examining the 8 issues Marvel put out between 1985-86.

All right, all right, I’ll admit, the execution is shit.  Holy fuck, does it suck.  But the idea is so awesome that I think it outweighs the awful storytelling.  Get a load of this:

Somewhere in another galaxy is a planet named Symbion, where insects instead of monkeys evolved.  They have a hexagonal map of their world (not round), and they even have their own language and alphabet (as depicted on the last page of issue one).  A long time ago, the Ancients ruled the planet, but there was a horrible storm that completely destroyed the world, including the Ancients.  As their last act on the planet, they created several Hyves to store all the knowledge they’ve acquired over the centuries.

Millions of years passed, and insects evolved into humanoid creatures called Sectaurs.  They’re broken down into two lands:  the Dark Domain and the Shining Realm.  The former is ruled by Devora, and as you can probably tell, they’re the Decepticons of our story.  The latter, our Autobots, are ruled by Regent Galken in the absence of the real commander, who vanished a long time ago in an attempt to find the mythical Hyves and therefore win knowledge of everything.

For the longest time, these two factions have lived in peace thanks to a treaty devised by Devora and Galken, but naturally, Devora has other plans.  She sends some of her soldiers into a borderland town to raid in the name of weeding out heretics (who are the only ones who understand anything about the Hyves).  As it turns out, there actually is a heretic in this town, and he accidentally finds a hidden Hyve.  The unfortunate result:  a poisonous gas shoots out into the atmosphere, and it’s capable of eating the flesh off the bones of any Sectaur on contact.

Now that everyone knows the Hyves really do exist, both sides find themselves in a struggle to be the first to discover the rest of them.  On the side of good, we have Dargon (the son of the rightful ruler of the Shining Realm), Mantys (later, Mantor, Dargon’s mentor and secret heretic), Zak (former head of the royal guard and best friend of Dargon), Pinsor (a local farmer who did good and became a renowned warrior), and Stellara (one of the only female Sectaurs; she used to be a great warrior until she lost her insectoid).

[One quick note:  all important Sectaurs are telepathically connected to an insectoid.  The more important you are, the bigger your insectoid.  For example, Dargon and Pinsor get to ride on their insectoids while the others hop along behind them, almost like pets.  However, the bond is so strong that if one feels pain or pleasure, the other one does, too.  If one of them dies, it’s a pretty good chance that the other will, too.  Stellara is rare in that she survived such an instance.]

On the side of evil, we have General Spidrax (the big bad with ambitions to surpass even Devora), Commander Waspax (bloodthirsty swine), Skulk (stepson to Devora and loyal to the cause), and Squito (a swamp rat with a penchant for being in the right place at the right time).

Since Devora didn’t technically break their peace treaty, Galken can’t exactly attack her and still keep the high road.  The solution:  Dargon and his friends will pretend to be traitors and leave the Shining Realm in search of the Hyves before Devora’s troops can find them.  The unfortunate thing is, Dargon has a lot of friends in the Shining Realm, and many of them think Galken is just a doddering old fool.  They’re starting to think of revolution . . . .

Pretty kick-ass, huh?  Sadly, writer Bill Mantlo falls prey to the way that every single fucking comic book was written back then.  He feels the need to explain everything.  How many times are we treated to the beginning of this story?  At least once an issue, and even then, we still get reminders from the editor as to what happened in the previous issues scattered about the body of the story.

Plus, you have to struggle through a lot of self-important dialogue to get to the good stuff.  Imagine the most stereotypical sword-and-sorcery kind of interactions and ratchet them up to a thousand, and you’ll get an idea as to how the Sectaurs talk to each other.  But it is worth it, just to see the strange idea playing around on the page.

But there really are great moments, like the time when Stellara finds herself in a position to telepathically connect with another insectoid.  It’s a pretty trippy scene, almost (not quite) worthy of early Vertigo books.

And there is a pretty big payoff in the final two issues, when Dargon finally finds another Hyve and actually gains access to it.  He connects with the Ancients’ technology (because, you know, the Sectaurs’ idea of magic is the Ancients’ idea of science) and finds himself in complete control of Symbion.  Immediately, he feels overwhelmed by absolute power, and he has to cut himself off from it before it corrupts him absolutely.  Zak, on the other hand, doesn’t think that he can be corruptible, not understanding what it means to CONTROL AN ENTIRE PLANET.

Of course, they certainly didn’t mean this story to last a mere 8 issues.  They leave enough loose ends to give a new creative team a pickup point, should Marvel ever decide to fund it.  But no, it was never meant to be.  Perhaps they just didn’t have the numbers of a G.I. Joe or Transformers, who were the big Marvel toy properties of the time.  It’s a shame.  It would be very interesting to see if Dargon ever finds another Hyve, and if he ever finds his questing, long-lost father.  Also, even though the last Hyve they found had its power source destroyed, Mantor seems to have kept a bit of power in his staff.  What exactly does he have in mind for that?

We’ll never find out.  Chances are, Mantlo doesn’t even remember now, if he’s even still alive.  [I'll save you the work.  He is still alive, but he was in an accident in the early 'Nineties that left him in a coma, so chances are, he really doesn't remember his plans for SECTAURS.]  However, Sectaurs will remain a hell of an ambitious project, maybe the most ever undertaken by a toy company.  Could you imagine the acid freak who came up with this idea?  I guarantee, though, you will never find a book that quite looks like this one did on the comic racks back in the day.  It’s one of the great disappointments of the ‘Eighties.

So really . . . tell me I’m not the only one who remembers these guys.


That's right.  Look at that glorious cover.  My labor of love is now available for all of you to read.  I've worked on this novel longer than any other, and I almost gave up on it in the early stages.  I'm glad I got through it, with a little help from Robert M. Tannahill.  Without his advice, I would not have made this book better.  Hell, I wouldn't have made this book, period.

For the very low price of $5.99, you can read all about what happens when desperate people do desperate things.  If violence, crime, tits, blood, money, and whiskey are your thing, this is the book for you.  Head on over to MUSA and give me a try:  Thank you, everyone, for your attention and consideration.

Thursday, December 6, 2012

COOL SHIT 12-6-12

MINUTEMEN #5:  I’m not too thrilled with this book.  In fact, I think it’s the weakest of the BEFORE WATCHMEN titles, but this issue made an impression on me.  There’s a lot going on in this one.  For example, this is the first time in the Watchmen universe where other superheroes are featured, and these two are based on comic book characters, which makes it all the more unusual.  The reasoning is actually pretty cool, too, considering how the supes in this one are showing off a bit of their racism toward the Japanese (since this is set just after WWII).  This issue also features Hollis and the other Minutemen dealing with a big event, namely the nuclear destruction of the Statue of Liberty.  Super-crime like this is never depicted in any of the other Watchmen books (except for Ozymandius’s plot in the original, obviously).  As if that isn’t enough, we find out why Hollis dislikes Dr. Manhattan so much, we see the Communist witch hunt that drove Justice away, and the solution to the biggest mystery of Moore’s original is supplied:  what the fuck ever happened to Justice?  We get the ugly truth in the last pages, and it’s pretty nasty.  Also, I don’t know if I buy it.  It sounds like something Hollis would have talked about later, but clearly he didn’t.  There’s a bit of a hole there that I’m hoping they’ll close up in the next, final, issue.

TRANSFORMERS:  REGENERATION #86:  Back in the old days, the Marvel TF book had to do things because the toy company came out with new products all the time.  Sometimes, they did a really good job of working shit out, like when the Headmasters came along.  Other times, they screwed the pooch, like when the Action Masters came out.  It was such a fucking awful idea that it ruined the original TF comic book.  For those who don’t remember, the Action Masters were Transformers that . . . COULD NOT TRANSFORM.  Kinda’ defeats the purpose, no?  Anyway, a lot of Autobots were near death, and Grimlock discovered something called Nucleon, and it could save them all.  His primary motivation was to save the rest of the Dinobots.  He tested it on himself first, and he found out that it made him very, very strong, but it took away his ability to transform.  He figured, fuck it, and he used it on all of those Autobots.  *sigh*  This had to stick in writer Simon Furman’s craw, because in this issue, he is working at undoing that piss-poor storyline.  Scorponok has discovered a way to fix everyone who came in contact with Nucleon.  From what I can tell, though, it means becoming a Headmaster.  I like the idea of doing away with Nucleon, but making Grimlock a Headmaster?  That just doesn’t sound right.  At the same time, it seems that Scoponok, whose head (Zarak) is dead by the way, has discovered that ‘bots don’t just choose to be Autobot or Decepticon; it seems to be a part of their CNA.  I can’t wait to see how this turns out.

COMEDIAN #4:  I’m going to say one thing, and it alone is worth dropping what you’re doing now and buying the entire series.  Ready?  Comedian goes to Vietnam, where he drops some acid and murders an entire village.  Holy shit, right?  There’s more.  He’s been hanging out with a couple of Vietnamese kids, and he’s named one Hearts, the other Minds.  Jesus Christ.  We’ve already seen his reaction to JFK’s death, but something tells me we’ll get to see what he does with RFK’s death in the next couple of issues.  Comedian was sent overseas in the first place because he was supposed to be a symbol to inspire people, but he’s decided to actually fight the war while he’s over there.  Why?  Because he actually wants the war to end.  All of the big guys, on the other hand, have a time schedule for the war.  It can’t end until they’re ready.  Wow, things just keep getting more and more fucked up in this book when the most sadistic character in the Watchmen universe is the voice of reason.