Contributor: Lance Manion - - His views on the fairer sex made him a bit of a dinosaur. Well, that and the armored plates that ran down his back. Luckily for him they weren't visible. He was strictly in the 'survival of the fittest camp', but this typically didn't present many problems as the girls he typically ran into were firmly ensconced in the 'take anyone with a heartbeat and a decent job' camp. That was about to change due to his job. He was the ugly physicist who became the sexual swan. He was the guy who, while playing around with uncurling the dimensions curled up inside each other, found the hole that wasn't there. Or wasn't there until he proved it was. Although the paper he presented was a little short on sizzle it didn't take long for the implications of the discovery to take root. Females had another tiny hole...

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Author: Lance Manion

Contributor: Marc Nocerino - - “Goddamnit Greta,I growled at the dark beauty sitting in front of me, "stick that fucking knife in my gut or so help me God I will chew your eyes out." For a second I might have actually meant it. “You’re sooooo melodramatic, Rick. If it weren’t so cute, it would almost be pathetic.” Rather than gut me, Greta used the supremely sharp knife to finish chopping the cocaine into two tidy little lines; perfectly parallel, perfectly spaced, and of identical length. She tossed the knife in my general direction; playfully, not at me. It landed softly on one of the dozens of faux-Moroccan throw pillows that littered the floor. “You’re such an evil bitch.” My hands were clammy. She drove me crazy and she knew it. She had been leading me on for months now. I wanted nothing more than to snort that rail and fuck...

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Author: Marc Nocerino

Contributor: Paul Tristram - - We fought out in the car park we wrestled down onto the ground. I grabbed him by the throat with my head I began to pound. His nose rose up like a balloon blood and snot circled his head. He kneed me in the bollocks my face was green, his was red. We struggled on for ten minutes until both our strength was gone. We were both barred from the pub it didn’t matter who was wrong. I left him wiping at his face came home to drink more beer. I then awoke this sore morning covered in my septic souvenirs. - - - Paul Tristram is a Welsh writer who has poems, short stories and sketches published in many publications around the world, he yearns to tattoo porcelain bridesmaids instead of digging empty graves for innocence at midnight, this too may pass, y...

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Author: Paul Tristram

Contributor: LA Sykes - - I’d slashed my leg with my blade and patched it up nicely in the staff toilets. I went back to my station in A and E and it was two o’clock in the morning on a Saturday night and I sat wondering about a lot of abstract concepts us humans wrestle with. Love, hate, economic enslavement. Life, death, the finite period in between. A man comes in my triage cubicle with half his fingers missing. I say, ‘What the fuck happened to you, sunshine?’ He laughs and whistles and pulls a miniature Bells whiskey from his shirt pocket and he shrugs and says, ‘Well if you really want to know, I’ll tell you. I hired a whore. Got to fucking, sixty nine et al and I really fancied the jackhammer, you know, where she’s got her legs over your shoulders and her head’s on the floor and it’s the prime position to slip in the arsehole....

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Author: LA Sykes

Contributor: Steve Isaak - - I am their whore. Her rapist tip parts sable, carnelian shimmer for her expatiating kiss! Venusian salt on our china thighs, he glitters, a terrified voyeur bound by a gold band. I am their toy. Pigeons coo over cunt drenched bread bits, old men with their fondled plastic kings – ben-was rolls slick, swollen, my tottering walk; the wed ones watch, stain Apollo’s public hour. I am their panacea. She shivers under razors, my mercenary traces, roses without petals – he violates her Dachau pucker, her exotic spine bent by his divorcing gaze. - - - Steve Isaak, sometimes published under the nom de plume Nikki Isaak and Chuck Lovepoe, is the author of several poetry anthologies. He is the editor of Reading & Writing By Pub Lig...

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Author: Steve Isaak