You know that fuck-awful feeling you get when you've just made yourself a sandwich from the shit in your lunch meat drawer, and then you take a bite out of it, only to realize that there was some mold on the bottom side of the bread that you didn't see before ( Read more... )

You know what they mean, fuckheads. Let's not pretend to be that stupid. I've been thinking about things that actually matter while you were all concerned about what letter is on your chest ( Read more... )

Please allow me to introduce myself
Im a man of wealth and taste
Ive been around for a long, long year
Stole many a mans soul and faithI think it has been a year, good fucking Christ. What did I do to deserve this? Surely I'm not the only wild, drug-loving journalist to trash a hotel room. I'm sure there are even some people, criminals, etc, who ( Read more... )

Ho-ly fuck that's a big fucking lizard. Right out of the goddamn sea, too, the both of them.

Sure, I'm just a delusional old man, but I know how to do my fucking research. Bloop incident, summer of 97. A sound at an ultra-low frequency was detected underwater, something living made that sound. But that something was bigger than any living animal ( Read more... )

Maybe it was journalistic instinct, who fucking knows, but after seeing a bunch of freaks skip past my apartment window, I knew there was a story ( Read more... )

The city is no different than I remember it being when I first arrived here. Full of scum and nonsense, and if it weren't for the peyote I stumbled upon in the underground, I'd be done for. This city will turn even the pure of heart and soul to something harsh like heroin, just to escape it all. But even the harshest drugs can't make this place ( Read more... )

I was slightly concerned when I went to take a piss this morning and found a fucking tentacle-clad creature bathing in my toilet. Normal people have to worry about rats, me, I've either been hitting the acid too hard or these things are fucking everywhere. I've huddled myself in a corner with a can of Raid, a fly swatter, and my pistol. Not that I ( Read more... )

I would rather not discuss previous events, just assure your little souls that I am not an insect. I remember now, however, the strange effects this city has caused me in the past, and must admit that no amount of sobriety in the world could make it any more pleasant. Besides, sober isn't really my thing ( Read more... )

Wrong, wrong. You've got it all fucking wrong. From beginning to end, the whole fucking thing. You don't even know who or what you are, do you? That's what you get for diving into a serious drug collection with no understanding of which does what. You won't be sober again for days, if you keep eating and drinking every fucking thing you find, you ( Read more... )

The other night, I had a dream that I was home, beside the fireplace with the rich and famous Mr. Screwjack. He was snoring heavily as he lay on my lap while I finished up an article and lit a new cigarette. I woke up only to find myself still in this rotting stink of a city. This wasteland; this hellhole. This filthy pit of scum ( Read more... )