Another Day In My Non Existent Life by John Patrick Robbins

I believe I will start to lip sync my readings and pay others to write for me.
I will remind them to misspell every other word  to keep the secret safe.

I will hire a ugly rugged bastard to impersonate me and secretly go on the wagon .
Get married and become a preacher.

And picket my own readings .
And when someone looks at me and ask's.

"Hey aren't you him?"


I will respond by saying no I'm just his former stand in .
Then remind them to go to church on Sunday and say there prayers every night.


It will all be going swell till I get caught with a hooker and a sack of blow .

It will make the headlines and bring great shame to my stand in when he realizes his gig is up.

My fellow writers will scratch thier heads and my flock will all pray for my soul .

My wife will demand for a divorce and my girlfriend will ask about the hooker who will problay write a book cashing in on her fifteen minutes of fame .

And in the meantime I will problay start fifteen more mags , two presses , publish fifty writers record ten podcasts and start five feuds with my pen names .

Some call it madness to me.its just another day at the races .

Cocktails anyone?

                        John Patrick Robbins

Is the witch doctor of the Frat and member of the Illuminati
He is actually a 2000 year old vampire who enjoys chasing ass far more than publication .

And listening to writers piss and moan everyday about papercuts when largley the paper now is virtual.

He enjoys making people hate him and is nominated for Asshole of the Year at this years Ezine Awards.


He also enjoys binge drinking and having conference calls with total strangers .

And if he offends you then download a free sense of humor at.

Itscalledajokemoron.com


Cheers .

Sushi Stomachs. by Ryan Quinn Flanagan

Have you seen those sushi stomachs

cut open?  The way the worms pile out

like a losing soccer pitch frenzy.  All that uncooked

food for top dollar from years of high end restaurants

that go by a number or some stupid backlit name that

translates to: Leaf.  And it’s not even enough to be

called eating, it’s gastronomy.  As though the science

of not cooking your food so that you are filled with worms

that eat away your stomach is a good thing.  And I know more

than a few that swear by it.
 Slim university types who will

correct your grammar before they ever try reaching orgasm.

Of course they are slim, they are being eaten away by worms.

Whenever I run into them, I see only worms.

It is hard to shake hands without thinking about it.

Always smile because that is the polite thing

to do.

Ryan Quinn Flanagan is a male gigolo for hire.  Presently residing along the sunny shores of Guantanamo Bay, Cuba where he spends his days drinking discount Tequila and accusing chemtrails of being "sky farts."  His work can be found both in print and online in such joints as: The Rye Whiskey Review, The Dope Fiend Daily, Outlaw Poetry Network, Horror Sleaze Trash, and Under The Bleachers.

Viking Love Poem by Rathnar Killbane

I asked the mighty chief of a nearby village
For his daughters hand in marriage .
I offered him fresh wolves meat and the eye of a local witch which granted immunity to the piss of fire curse .

He refused,  Rathnars heart was broken much like when his sister refused his first advances before she gave birth to a Cyclops which was clearly not Rathnars child.

But back to the story .

So Rathnar almost wept but he is no sissy like foreign poets .

Rathnar raided the village burning it to the ground killing the old chief and taking his daughters for my first wives .

Sure they all died mysterious deaths while Rathnar was in a undisclosed location or in battle.

This was very unfortunate but I pillaged many to soothe my pain .

That's the way true viking love goes .


First published in the Old Crusty Dragon Review.

                            Rathnar Kilbane

Is the Viking poet laureate of Iceland.
His conquests are that of legend he has his scrolls published many fine places like.

The Fiendish Hen House Quarterly , Rolling Stone Magazine,  Pirates Of Indiana Review, The Ryan Quinn Flanagan Quarterly , Rainbow Reader Review, Hustler Magazine , Viking Times Magazine , Rape And Pillage Review .
And the Dioe Fiend Daily .


Rathnar is currently working on his followup scroll to his best selling The Age Of Burning Down There .

And seeking a publisher he promises not kill Untill after they publish his scroll .

A Farewell To Lucky Charms by Cuthulu

It was the best of times and almost worst of times .
When they told me that I was going To lose both my feet .

Then I thought screw walking and bought a brand new jazzy scooter .

I mean why walk when you can drive?

Sure I could slow down on the eating.
 But now I only have ten sides of fries with my fifty cheeseburgers and always wash it down with a diet coke .


Responsible living kicks ass much like Cuthulu.

Oh yeah and the Frat still sucks .

                                    Cuthulu

Is the arch nemesis of the Frat which makes perfect sense publishing him being catering to spoiled ego mainiacs is what writing is all about .

Cuthulu enjoys over eating and destroying worlds and has been on a seven year quest to find his own dick.

His newest collection Cuthulu's poetry slash cook book is a collection of high cholesterol writes with pages that usally stick togather.

He has been published at a few magazines that usally fear him sitting on them.

And one that takes months to reply and largley sucks .

Petrolium Butt Piracy by Scott Simmons

Let's measure our shriveled hotdogs inside of a bathroom with a skylight.
We can also secretly set a course to the drunk star allegedly tinkling all over my face.

I'd probe Uranus anytime sailor even if you make me wear a mask like most people do.
Also why do you keep a vibrating wiretap in your head brain recording my thoughts?

Is it because you are actually an undersized alien from the 9th dimension of flaccid phalluses?
Or did you just fart on my hamster and then blamed it on the government?

Either way I'm always watching you through the hidden cameras in your underground grotto filled with supper sexy hand models that electromagnetically tell me the future in my wet dreams.

I'm onto you Big Bird!

Scott Simmons has been kicked out of many peoples attics after stalking them for months in between his day job at a sexual chorus line on the Vegas Strip that nobody attends anymore because he's too ugly for anyone to want to show up. Um not that Scott cares he's secure about himself despite how he cries alone in a pet carrier crate at night inside of his lead lined bunker. 

BALANCING THE BOOKS. By Bryn Fortey

Since I have no interest

In the +/- columns

Of the celestial ledger

I concern myself mainly

With the gradual disintegration

Of my physical well being

My sense of balance

Went flying through the window

Alongside my libido

Many moons ago

I stagger like a ten pint drunk

Jabbing my walking stick

To counter whichever direction

My faltering steps take me

When I do fall

I go down like an Olympic gymnast

And have so far

Avoided structural damage

Three fellow customers

Scored me ten out of ten

When I tumbled at my local Spar

The medical term

For this lack of equilibrium 

Is: Fucked Up

I couldn’t have put it better

Bryn Fortey is a veteran writer from Wales in the UK. Widely published

over the years, he has had two collections published by The Alchemy 

Press, both featuring a mix of short stories and poetry. He is grateful that

in old age he is still able to put pen to paper and finger to keyboard

A Complete Stranger by Ryan Quinn Flanagan

You got the stuff?

he asked.

And since I didn’t have the stuff

he turned away quickly

and walked off.

Looking back once

with a confused look

before he rounded the corner

and was gone.

Ryan Quinn Flanagan is a male gigolo for hire.  Presently residing along the sunny shores of Guantanamo Bay, Cuba where he spends his days drinking discount Tequila and accusing chemtrails of being "sky farts."  His work can be found both in print and online in such joints as: The Rye Whiskey Review, The Dope Fiend Daily, Outlaw Poetry Network, Horror Sleaze Trash, and Under The Bleachers.