Francesca Fiorentini vs. Cenk Uygur

 

Voice of Reason

CHORUS

No one would believe me when I had a story to tell

They bent the knee to the powers that be

They’re too afraid of burning in hell

You’re not the voice of reason, you’re enabling treason

You’re handing out forgiveness like it’s Christmas season

A seat at my table should always be earned

Fuck the crosses you burned

What are the lessons you’ve learned?

 

VERSE 1

You want me to compromise with the ones who tell lies

And give them any credence like they’re just as wise

Shake hands with the Klan for your economic plan

Where we come together for this capitalist cheddar

One for all and all for one

But what will you do now that the damage is done?

Marginalization is institutionalization

But at least we can agree this is a badass nation

 

CHORUS

No one would believe me when I had a story to tell

They bent the knee to the powers that be

They’re too afraid of burning in hell

You’re not the voice of reason, you’re enabling treason

You’re handing out forgiveness like it’s Christmas season

A seat at my table should always be earned

Fuck the crosses you burned

What are the lessons you’ve learned?

 

VERSE 2

You call it unity when you fit the square pegs

Into the round holes while the beggars beg

We’re all equal because we all look the same

As we’re playing Monopoly, a real-life game

Say nighty-nighty, give your dreams to the mighty

It’s for the common good even with the white hoods

In the end, we’ll all be ground up into sausage

But at least we won the war, ‘cause the street trash lost it

 

VERSE 3

You’re not riding the fence, you’re riding the dick

Of Agent 47 who should be 86ed

You say you love us all, but you won’t answer the call

You’ll be so far away when another tower falls

Of course you’re apathetic and it’s kind of pathetic

How you use your privilege to rewrite and edit

The story of history through your eyes, not theirs

You’re so rich and lionized that you don’t have to care

 

CHORUS

No one would believe me when I had a story to tell

They bent the knee to the powers that be

They’re too afraid of burning in hell

You’re not the voice of reason, you’re enabling treason

You’re handing out forgiveness like it’s Christmas season

A seat at my table should always be earned

Fuck the crosses you burned

What are the lessons you’ve learned?

 

OUTRO

No small surprise where the center really lies

You’re the center of the universe, now everything’s worse

You sang kumbaya with jackboot-wearing thugs

Future civilizations will wonder if we’re on drugs

Make It Stop

It seemed like the world’s cruelest April Fools joke to live every day in a place like Meat Grinder City…except April Fools wasn’t just limited to one day of the year. At least the flames around the buildings and streets weren’t as tall as they once were. At least the sausage puppets walked normally down the sidewalks instead of jiggling around like lynched corpses. 

When their cyclopean eyes popping out of their mouths gazed harshly into Joel Upton’s soul, the sensation was only mildly chilling across his already sour stomach. He pulled the hood up on his thick rain jacket and tried not to draw too much attention to himself. Then again, he was already under this unforgiving city’s microscope as someone with no permanent residence outside of a garbage dumpster here and there. The smell wouldn’t come off no matter how hard it rained.

It wasn’t the sausage puppets walking past him that set Joel Upton’s brain on fire. It wasn’t the smaller-by-comparison fires that jolted his brain like a paper clip in a light socket. It was that laugh. That deep, throaty, horny laugh from behind that caused his heart to pump intolerably fast. The only breaths Joel could muster reeked of dumpster residue and rancid ashes. He slowly turned around and his worst tormenter towered over him as though Joel was dog shit underneath somebody’s shoe.

He almost snapped his own neck in half just to gaze upwards into the heartless eyes of Chainsaw Fist, a bulky, piss-stinking ogre with a metal jaw, an apron covered in blood, a necklace pieced together with skulls and intestines, and of course, a chainsaw/drill combination that just had to constantly be on fire in order to solidify the overkill of Meat Grinder City.

“Make it stop,” Joel whimpered. “Somebody please make it stop…”

Chainsaw Fist bellowed so hard that his garbage breath almost bowled his victim over. “Nobody’s going to make it stop, you weak little piss stain! Your writing career was a joke from the start! Nobody loves you, not even your own family! Why don’t you just quit like a little bitch!” He revved his flaming chainsaw. “I will make you tap out one way or another, you slimy sack of whale shit!”

Joel didn’t even have time to react before Chainsaw Fist tackled him to the ground and drilled his weapon into his victim’s gut, releasing a tidal wave of blood and spiritual energy. The sausage puppets drank the vile fluids like dogs lapping up garden hose water. The volcano of blood just wouldn’t stop. It kept exploding and destroying everything in its path. The spirits flying out of that festering wound laughed at Joel the entire time. And then…

“You’re weird,” said a little girl holding onto her father’s hand. The father mildly reprimanded her before the two of them left a writhing and screaming Joel to his devices. And just like that, Meat Grinder City was Seattle. Ordinary, urban Seattle with rainy weather, urban sprawl, and non-sausage puppet citizens wondering what the hell was wrong with Joel.

Having snapped back to reality, Joel rolled over onto his knees and frantically searched his raincoat, pulling a broken needle out of his breast pocket. “No…no, no, no…” he whined to himself. “I need more…where is that goddamn pharmacy?” He searched his coat again, this time for money, but all he could muster up were a few pennies and some broken lug nuts. “Make it stop…just someone please make it stop…”

The rain came down so hard upon Joel’s back that he flinched in pain. And there was his answer: they weren’t rain drops. They were scorpion tails. “Not again.” Scorpion tails continued to pound and stab him before he was thrust right back into Meat Grinder City, the flames around the buildings bursting sky high while the cutest of cute kids jiggled around like the sausage puppets they really were.

A familiar beefy hand pulled back Joel’s hood and slashed his skull open, laughing like a demonic pervert yet again. Once his brain was exposed for the whole world to see, the scorpion tails morphed into little gray kobolds with blade-like fingernails and childish cackles. They laughed and hee-hawed as they jumped into Joel’s head wound and started bouncing around behind his face. The headache was so intense that he covered his eyes out of fear of them popping out. They did anyways, but not without snake tentacles holding them in their mouths.

“Give up your career, you waste of shit and piss!” Chainsaw Fist roared. “This world hates you! Hell doesn’t want you! Heaven is disgusted by you! You’re a fuck-up of the very worst kind! You deserve to die like the pile of diarrhea that you are!”

“STOP IT! LEAVE ME ALONE! MAKE IT STOP!” Joel screeched, holding his aching head while the snakes and kobolds partied in his brain.

“You want to quit, you little bastard! Do you want to quit! Then quit like the little bitch baby you are! Tap out!”

The kobolds, sausage puppets, snakes, and Chainsaw Fist himself formed a circle around Joel and chanted for him to quit. The flames of Meat Grinder City grew to their maximum limit and caused Joel to suffocate on the ashes. Chainsaw Fist continued to slash and murder his lone victim. The kobolds made incoherent jokes about his suffering and laughed like hyenas on crack.

“…I quit…”

“I’m sorry, what was that? What did you say, you little cum guzzler?!”

“I QUIT! I QUIT, I QUIT, I QUIT!”

Joel’s broken body could finally relax even though he ached literally everywhere, even in places outside of his flesh suit.

“Wow…you really are pathetic, Joel. You really are the weakest bastard I’ve ever met. Let’s go, quitter!” Chainsaw Fist wrapped his intestinal necklace around Joel’s throat and dragged his exhaustively bloody body across the ashen cement. He was too destroyed to care. He had lived in Meat Grinder City for far too long. There were several moments during his homelessness where he could have quit. He wanted to believe there was still life left in him. But if there was, he’d put up at least a little bit of a struggle against his worst critic.

“You can’t quit mental illness, Mr. Upton,” said a throaty, yet gentle voice that belonged to a hairy demon with spikes all over his body. The room Joel found himself in was still covered in flames. But these were warm flames that glowed like an outdoor campfire. They hurt like hell. They burned down the last of his brain cells. But even in Meat Grinder City’s loneliest prison cell, Joel knew he could relax.

Then again, he had no choice since he was chained to a wooden table. He also had his head shaved and a metal helmet strapped to his naked scalp. The furry demon used his talon to jot down a few notes in his wizard’s spell book. “You probably don’t believe me right now, but this is the safest place you can be. The streets should be nobody’s home.”

Entering the prison cell were three porcelain mannequins, all of which had snakes growing out of their heads. One of them had muscles etched into his torso, another had the feminine features of a Greek goddess, and the third was a child no taller than an average human’s waist. The woman’s sweet voice struck a familiar chord with Joel. “Everything will be okay, honey. We still love you.”

Tears welled up in Joel’s already bloodshot and battered eyes. “Wendy? Is that you?” The face of the woman he fell in love with all those years ago formed behind her gorgon façade. And then the face of his daughter broke free from porcelain permanence. But who was this strange man who accompanied them?

Wendy held Joel’s hand while the snakes in her hair smiled at him. “You’ve been gone for so long ever since you had your breakdown. We never forgot about you. Yes, I have remarried, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you anymore. I was so worried about you. Our daughter had nightmares.” The snakes wrapped around Joel for a hug. And then the daughter’s snakes wrapped around his legs. And the new husband’s snakes gave him the warmest grins.

“Wendy…I’m so sorry I didn’t seek help earlier. I didn’t want to quit what I poured my heart into for so long. I was so obsessed that it drove me insane…All I had to do was quit…”

“You don’t have to be strong anymore,” said Wendy with tears in her own eyes. “It’s okay to quit when you’re feeling overwhelmed. Nobody’s ashamed of you.”

“But what about those jerks on the street who laughed at me?” asked Joel through a stuffy nose.

“Fuck ‘em” said the new husband, which earned a round of laughter from everybody in the room.

Wendy and the daughter broke their embraces. The gorgon mother of his child said, “We’ll visit you for as long as we need to. If you need anything, we’re always a skip and a hop away.” She kissed her palm and waved goodbye, the daughter waving as well while the husband gave a thumbs up.

Joel’s tears accumulated as he watched his old family walk away, leaving the hair-covered demon doctor to do his duty. He pulled a snake fang out of his fur and attached it to a miniature spinning chainsaw. “You desperately need a vacation from your mind, Mr. Upton. And when you awaken, we can try some cognitive behavioral therapy. But for now…relax…and enjoy the darkness…”

Joel didn’t even try to fight the injection into his arm despite the fact that the needle resembled Chainsaw Fist’s favorite toy. Fire and poison flowed through his body, but they were just formalities to a much-needed vacation from a schizophrenic mind. He switched between Meat Grinder City and the psychiatric ward of the Seattle hospital while simultaneously drifting off into sleep. The furry monster became a friendly old man before morphing back into his nightmarish form. 

Back…and forth…back…and forth…the transformations resembled the motion of a baby in his mother’s arms…back…and forth…back…and forth…until darkness and snoring were all that remained of Meat Grinder City. Joel’s snoring did sound like a revving chainsaw, but that nasty ogre was nowhere to be found in such a black void of relaxation. No dreams. No hallucinations. Just hours of nothing. Getting lost in the nothing was a better vacation than Hawaiian beaches or Canadian architecture, both of which would have burst into flames anyways.

Nowhere to Live

CHORUS 1

Government benefits were slashed in half

Homelessness doubled, it’s simple math

Paper white politicians say they’ll clean up the streets

While they rest comfortably in linen sheets

Nowhere to live, nothing to give

Nowhere to die, nothing to try

Nowhere to live

Nowhere to live

VERSE 1

It’s never been about shit on the sidewalk

It’s about outlining more bodies in chalk

It’s never been about screaming at thin air

It’s about naysayers too brainwashed to care

It’s never been about who’s smoking the crack

It’s about looking for new ways to attack

It’s never been about saving taxpayer money

But keep laughing it off like it’s so fucking funny

CHORUS 1

Government benefits were slashed in half

Homelessness doubled, it’s simple math

Paper white politicians say they’ll clean up the streets

While they rest comfortably in linen sheets

Nowhere to live, nothing to give

Nowhere to die, nothing to try

Nowhere to live

Nowhere to live

VERSE 2

A dollar bill can go for a thousand miles long

A hug and a smile can keep humanity strong

New laws to pass can kick greed in the ass

Need a closer look? Just go touch some grass

Look around at the world that you’re living in

Not everyone can take a Maserati for a spin

Not everyone can eat a steak dinner at night

It ain’t the answer to pull those boot straps tight

CHORUS 1

Government benefits were slashed in half

Homelessness doubled, it’s simple math

Paper white politicians say they’ll clean up the streets

While they rest comfortably in linen sheets

Nowhere to live, nothing to give

Nowhere to die, nothing to try

Nowhere to live

Nowhere to live

VERSE 3

The empathy and sympathy are long gone

The psychopathy and hatred are so damn wrong

This is how we treat those below the elite

We laugh at the paper shoes on their feet

Society is a bitch ball gagged by the rich

If you dare try to snitch, you’ll lay in a ditch

This is what it means to have a heart so cold

Piss the people away like they’re urinary gold

CHOURS 2

Division continues to be slashed in half

Prejudice has doubled, it’s simple math

So much for cleaning up the city streets

It was never a system that was easy to beat

No one to love, no shelter above

No one to embrace, just another dirty face

No one to love

No one to love

Nowhere to live

Nowhere to live

inspirational Porn Star

VERSE 1

I was born with one finger, no other body parts

My cancer cell count was off the fucking charts

I got run over by a Karen and her shopping cart

Left to bleed and break on the floor of Wal-Mart

But I kept pushing on, as cliché as that sounds

I can now bench press a thousand fucking pounds

A got a hot wife, hot life, and a new sports car

You call me lucky; I’m an inspirational porn star

VERSE 2

I was born with a negative bank account balance

A million dollar debt to a loan shark in Dallas

The streets were the place where I slept and shit

Not in that order, but the timeline still fits

I kept soldiering on, got a college education

Got a bunch of D-pluses at my graduation

It’s clearly your fault if you don’t go far

Not mine; I’m an inspirational porn star

VERSE 3

I never once took a check from the welfare office

Never once begged the forces of evil to stop it

I’m so tough I floss my teeth with barbed wire

Wipe my ass with sandpaper ‘til it burns like fire

Shave my face with a chainsaw until I’m raw

Clip my nails with a shark’s disembodied jaw

If I can do it, you have no reason not to start

Your lifelong journey, be an inspirational porn star

VERSE 4

Of course you all know that I’m full of shit

Only a bunch of sheep believe my rhetoric

Everything has nuance, even life itself

Not as easy as a bible on a library shelf

Not as easy as watching a You Tube video

Not as easy as imagining a new scenario

I want more for me, so I move the goal post

Inspirational porn stars are just hollow boasts

McDonald's Prostitute

VERSE 1

Which tastes worse: the blowjob or the burger?

Which is more sadistic: slavery or murder?

Which is more dangerous: the fries or the lies?

Which is more confusing: the whats or the whys?

Stretched so thin like lying on a torture table

Scraping up whatever small change you’re able

Put on the pounds and make orgasmic sounds

Nobody will help you in this selfish town

CHORUS

McDonald’s prostitute, what’re you fighting for?

An economy that doesn’t subsidize war?

A market that doesn’t overpower the rich?

They’ll be the first to tell you that life is a bitch!

VERSE 2

What ice cream do you want: vanilla or chocolate?

Where’s your money: in your purse or your pocket?

Where do you call home: the bridge or the streets?

What’s the ending to this story: victory or defeat?

I would never judge you for your desperation

I would never insult you or give you lacerations

It’s not your fault and you’re not in the wrong

Have my twenty dollar bill and the lyrics to this song

CHORUS

McDonald’s prostitute, what’re you fighting for?

An economy that doesn’t subsidize war?

A market that doesn’t overpower the rich?

They’ll be the first to tell you that life is a bitch!

VERSE 3

A triple bacon burger with onions and pickles

A man in black robes with a sick-looking sickle

The loneliness will kill you before the food does

A disgusting fucking joke is what this all was

Everybody wanted it to go wrong from the start

They vote with their balls and not with their hearts

Now they can’t even fill up their shopping carts

Except with their last possessions and metal parts

CHORUS X2

McDonald’s prostitute, what’re you fighting for?

An economy that doesn’t subsidize war?

A market that doesn’t overpower the rich?

They’ll be the first to tell you that life is a bitch!

Revenge Porn

Liz Ronaldson wondered how badly her body would be broken after jumping off of the suspension bridge into the icy waters below. Would her legs snap in two? Would her neck crack in different directions? Would it be over in an instant? Regardless of the two-hundred foot drop, shattered bones and punctured organs couldn’t compare to the pain she felt in her heart and soul. As she gazed hypnotically into the waters below, tears cascaded from her eyes. She tried wiping them away with the only puffy coat she had, but the tears kept coming. No matter how many times she snorted and sniffed, the loose snot wouldn’t stay up her nose. She was ready to jump. One…two…

“Hey, loser, you got five dollars on you? Gimme that shit!” She saw the incident take place only a few feet from where she planned to jump. The three bullies pushed around the smaller kid like a torturous game of volleyball, all while making wisecracks about how he was allegedly on welfare and food stamps. The smaller kid hauled back and slapped one of the bullies across the cheek. The shoving match ended with the bullies staring at the kid in shock. They swore at him with whip-cracking voices while punching him relentlessly, causing the little guy to huddle on the ground and cover.

Liz’s suicidal sorrow turned into fiery rage. Her tears became hotter. Her stomach was burning with homicidal tendencies. Her fists were clenched tightly. Reaching around for the nearest weapon she could find, she picked up a lead pipe and shouted to the bullies, “Hey! Knock that shit off! He’s just a kid, you fucking idiots!”

The bullies ended the beat down like they were told, but only to laugh and point at Liz. “Hey, look! Miss Ronaldson’s got something big in her hands! Hell, I got something big too after seeing those naked pictures!” taunted one of the bullies, resulting in even more obnoxious laughter.

Liz chucked the lead pipe at the bullies and caused them to cover up with their arms as they ran off like little bitches. The former teacher continued to throw rocks, rusty nails, glass bottles, and anything else she could get her hands on until the older kids were out of sight. Some of her projectiles hit their marks, but only did enough damage to elicit an “Ouch!” and nothing more.

“That’s right, you pussies! You’d better run like the goddamn wind! If I ever see you fuckers again, I’ll kill you all!” shouted Liz while flailing her fists in the air. Even more tears poured from her eyes and stained her tattered jeans and newspaper shoes. The little kid, which she now recognized as one of her former students, was tearing up as well. Bloody gashes covered his arms and face, but being homeless didn’t afford Liz access to proper healthcare supplies.

Liz approached the banged up kid and ripped off pieces of her fluffy jacket to use as bandages for his wounds. Neither teacher nor student could stop crying, but Liz wiped her own tears away long enough to form coherent sentences. “Hi there, Seth! You’re okay now. Everything’s going to be okay.”

“No, it isn’t,” murmured Seth Luke. He wiped his eyes with his bloodied arm and recognized the angelic face of his recently fired English teacher. “Miss Ronaldson? Are you homeless too?”

“Please, call me Liz. I don’t deserve to be called Miss Ronaldson after what happened with those pictures. So many of my friends and family saw those.” Liz smiled sadly and shrugged before changing the topic. “What am I saying? You’re the one who got beat up. They got you pretty good. I think there’s a hospital around here somewhere. Are you well enough to walk with me?”

“Thanks for helping me, Miss Ro, I mean, Liz,” sniffled Seth. He shivered in this chilly afternoon air due to him only wearing a short sleeved shirt.

Liz gazed upon him sympathetically and took off her own jacket to wrap him up. “There you go, Seth. You’ll be all warm and toasty in no time at all.”

“Thanks, Liz, but don’t you need a jacket too? You’ll freeze out here,” stammered Seth.

“I’m not going to need a jacket for where I’m going,” said Liz while gesturing towards the edge of the bridge with a nudge of her head.

“No! No, you can’t do that!” argued Seth as he wrapped his bloodied arms around Liz. “I’m not letting you jump! I don’t care if I have to hold onto you for the rest of my life!” Even more hot tears drained the homeless teenager’s eyeballs to the point of redness. “You were my favorite teacher before they fired you! You taught me about being creative and making the most of life! And now you’re just going to jump off the bridge over some naked pictures online?!”

Liz wrapped her arms around Seth and said solemnly, “There’s more to it than that, Seth. It’s not just the naked pictures that became my scandalous secret. It’s about my career. It’s about my social and family lives. I made a bad decision when I let my bastard of a boyfriend take those pictures of me. I’ve lost everything and I can’t get it back. Once something is on the internet, it’s there forever. All I have left are the clothes on my body and a beating heart. I don’t want the latter of those two things if it just keeps hurting like this.”

Seth gave Liz his best puppy dog expression when he sobbed, “But I can help you get those things back! It’s not over until I say it’s over! You’re going to be okay again! I promise you!”

“Seth, that is so sweet,” sniffed Liz. “But you’re in the same boat as I am. We’re both alone out here with nowhere to sleep and nothing to eat. What can we do for each other now? Where do we go from here?”

“There’s always another way, Liz,” said Seth. “We have each other. We can be a team and take on the streets together. Just you and me! No jack-off bullies, no bastard boyfriends, no judgment at all. You taught me all about this, Liz! You taught me how important it is to care about each other and be there when we’re down. If you jump off that bridge, you’re going to be nothing more than a hypocrite! Maybe I’ll join you afterwards, who knows!”

Liz shoved Seth away from the embrace and transformed back into rage mode. “Oh yeah?! A hypocrite?! And what do you suppose I do about this?! I haven’t eaten in days and I’ve got frostbite on my fucking fingers! Nobody wants to give me the time of day let alone give me my life back, all because of some stupid fucking naked pictures! What am I supposed to do, just pick up a beer bottle off the ground and pretend there’s actually liquor in it?! Tell me how you’d solve my problems if suicide doesn’t fix everything, asshole! What would the great and wonderful Seth Luke do if he was half the master of his destiny that I’m supposed to be?!”

While giving his former teacher the gorgon death stare, Seth pulled a wallet out of his pocket with his school’s logo on it. It looked stuffed with dollar bills. “You see this? I plucked it out of one of the bullies’ pockets while those three bastards were beating on me! I was going to eat at McDonald’s or Denny’s with this kind of money! I was going to take you out for something to eat! But I guess you’d prefer suicide over a good meal! See you around, toots! Thanks for the life lessons! I really appreciate them!”

Seth turned heel and began stomping away. Watching him leave twisted a knot in Liz’s stomach. No matter how much she tried to deny it, Seth was right all along. Dying would solve nothing. Liz had just unloaded on the one person in this world who still cared about her. He probably didn’t even have an internet connection to see those pictures. He took to her lessons of not judging each other like a bee to honey. Liz’s heart shattered into a million pieces after realizing what she had done.

“Seth, wait!” said Liz as she ran after him. He turned to face her with his arms folded and an angry stare formed on his bloody visage. “You’re right. You’ve been right all along. Look at you. You’re in the same boat as me and you’d never consider suicide. You’re an A+ student in the truest sense. Don’t let anybody tell you differently. I’m sorry I yelled at you. Let’s take on the world together. I’d love to eat a decent meal with you. How about a hug?”

Liz and Seth bawled some more while coming in for a tight embrace. Two of the loneliest people in the world versus an uncaring, inherently evil society. The odds were stacked against them, but they liked those odds anyways. Death was not the answer. Fighting like a passionate warrior was closer to being the topic of an A+ paper, written by A+ students and teachers alike.

"A Street Cat Named Bob" by James Bowen

BOOK TITLE: A Street Cat Named Bob: And How He Saved My Life
AUTHOR: James Bowen
YEAR: 2012
GENRE: Nonfiction
SUBGENRE: Cat Memoir
GRADE: Pass


James Bowen has been down on his luck in London, England for a whole decade. He was estranged from his family in Australia and used heroin to cope with his raw emotions. He lived on the streets in cardboard boxes until he was finally able to qualify for public housing. Ever since making an effort to get clean, he became a street musician begging for handouts, which came few and for between and often came with aggressive attitudes toward the poor.

Mr. Bowen’s luck started to change when he found a ginger tomcat he named Bob curled up in his apartment building. He nursed the kitty back to health with the intention of sending the little guy back on the streets. When Bob started following him to work, however, Mr. Bowen attracted more money and more friendly attention. It was a long process, but with a cute cuddly feline in his life, James slowly began to put his life back together.

The biggest upsides to this book are the tale of redemption and the cuteness of Bob that goes along with it. It’s amazing what a simple thing like love can do for a person’s life. James Bowen is an animal lover by nature, so taking the little orange sweetheart into his life was easy. It’s what these two did for each other afterwards that makes their relationship special to the reader. I found myself wanting James Bowen to get clean and have a stable income despite all of the nasty things he’d done with his life prior to this point. If nothing else, this book teaches a valuable lesson in being too quick to judge a person by his past. Bob isn’t judgmental in the least bit. Animal cuties rarely are.

The writing style is exactly what I’d expect from someone who’s writing his first memoir: fast-paced, simple, and clean. It’s a no-nonsense style that gets the reader from place to place while still allowing the reader to peer into James Bowen’s innermost thoughts. Those thoughts can be anything from the fear of losing Bob to the flashbacks of withdrawing from heroin, all of which can be emotionally heart wrenching. I have to admit, though, there were parts where I zoned out as I was reading it. Maybe it’s not the flashiest book ever written, but it’s one I can get through and enjoy the journey along the way.

I’ve often heard the phrase that a story doesn’t end at the final page, but at where the author chooses to stop. The story does stop at a happy place in James and Bob’s lives, but I’m not telling you how it happens; you’ll have to buy the book and read for yourself. I will say this, though: the ending feels a little open-ended, meaning I still fear for the author and his cat’s safety while they’re out on the street doing their thing. In hindsight, the fear is probably a good thing since that makes the two main characters sympathetic and heroic to the reader.

If you like stories about redemption, cute and cuddly animals, and the power of altruistic love, be sure to pick up a copy of “A Street Cat Named Bob” by James Bowen. It’s a rough ride all throughout the book since people on the streets are oftentimes mean and aggressive towards James and Bob, but the cuteness factor and the sense of triumph is there nonetheless. It would probably be worth it to fly all the way out to England on an airplane just to meet the little orange sweetie pie and his wonderful caretaker. But since air travel is a pain in the rear-end (as James Bowen will attest to in the latter half of the book), you can always follow this victorious pair on Twitter and Face Book. They’d love to hear from you!

I, Barbarian

“So your name is Corey Darkside, huh? Is that the name your momma gave you or are you just being cute with me? You wouldn’t happen to be an injun, would you? Either way, missy, it’s time to cut the crap. You’re here for a reason, which happens to be that vagrancy is illegal and you’re being accused of it. You have anything to say for yourself, sweetheart?” said the heavyset Sheriff Ace Hank, who sat across the interrogation table eating a pink-frosted donut and sipping a cup of coffee.

“This is the way you treat your homeless? By locking them up in monkey cages? Even a barbarian like me would be disgusted by the behavior of your world, which is why I prefer living in solitude,” said Corey Darkside, a muscular female warrior dressed in bear skins, furry boots, and metal armor. She looked like she leapt out of the pages of a Dungeons & Dragons player’s handbook.

Ace, on the other hand, thought she looked more like a loony as evidenced by the look of puzzlement on his chubby face, which was now covered in donut sugar. He said, “Listen, lady, I don’t know where you came from or why you decided to wander the streets of my city looking for handouts, but whether you want to believe it or not, you’re in serious shit, my friend. And you’re not doing yourself any favors by arguing vagrancy politics with me. I for one support clean streets and working folk.”

The unimpressed Corey spit at her inquisitor and happened to get vile green fluids in Ace’s coffee. The unhappy sheriff threw the rest of the coffee in the barbarian’s face. The coffee had gone tepid, so it didn’t burn her face that badly, but it still had all of that oral muck Corey shot from her mouth earlier. “Now we’re even, bitch,” said Ace.

The barbarian wiped the snot and coffee off of her face with her bear skin tunic. She said, “I don’t know what kind of information you hope to get from me, but as long as you sit there with your arrogant ways and your disgusting junk food, I shall tell you nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

“That’s okay, sweetie pie. I don’t need anything from you. I’m just here to tell you to get ready for a court hearing sooner than later. Until then, my men are going to transport your smelly ass to jail so you can think about what you did.”

“There’s nothing to think about, fat boy. All I did was wander into your town and you’ve shown me how you treat your less desirables. It’s a sad day when barbaric tribes behave better than those who claim to be civilized.”

Ace reached across the table to slap Corey in the mouth, but the steadfast barbarian caught the massive hand and squeezed with a vice grip at the wrist. The sheriff grimaced in pain as he tried to suck it up and free his hand, but the woman’s grip was too powerful. The cop’s fingers began to turn purple when a swarm of other police officers descended upon the interrogation to pull Corey off and restrain her arms and legs.

Miss Darkside thrashed around and screamed in a guttural voice, but the many cops who came to hold her still were too powerful. They even managed to get her wrists behind her back and zip-tie them together while pressing her face-down to the floor.

With the barbaric warrior still howling like an animal, Ace shook off the pain in his hand and wrist and said, “There, are you happy now?! You can add assaulting an officer to the list of charges! Get this crazy bitch out of here! Jail is too good for this renaissance fare freak! She’s going straight to the rubber room where she’ll really have some fun!”

After a count of three, the many police officers hoisted Corey up by her arms and legs and carried her out of the interrogation room. She was still thrashing and screaming, but again, the officers were too powerful for her. It wasn’t until a thunderous bang resounded throughout the police station that the fierce action stopped.

“What the hell was that?!” asked Ace.

Corey managed a smile with razor-sharp teeth and said, “He’s here. He wants to put an end to our rivalry once and for all. If it’s a brawl he wants, it’s a brawl I’m going to give him!”

“Who the fuck are you talking about, lady?” asked Ace.

Even more monstrous bangs blasted throughout the building. The source of the tremors came rushing in like an F5 tornado, slashing and throwing around any police officer who would try to stop him. It wasn’t a mere mortal, but a 7’5” grizzly bear decked out in metal armor and carrying steel claws on his already massive paws. He let out a deafening roar at the officers who were holding Corey, who were then so terrified that they dropped her on the floor and drew their pistols to open fire.

A storm of bullets that powerful would send anybody to heaven. Instead the bullets either deflected off of the bear’s armor or served as a mere annoyance like a fly landing on his fur. “Pathetic! You all are pathetic!” screamed the bear before spinning like a hurricane again and bulldozing the officers into a pile of ripped flesh, bitter blood, and shattered bones. Corey had long gotten out of the line of fire before she too could become worm food.

The bear had his sights set on Sheriff Ace Hank, who was shivering in terror with his eyes wide open while sporting a urine stain on his oversized trousers. With one gigantic paw, the bear lifted Ace in the air and pressed him against the wall before asking in a throaty roar, “Where is she?! Where’s Corey Darkside?! I know that bitch is in here! She fucked with my tribe for the last goddamn time!”

“Sheriff, I want you to meet my rival, Magnus Warcry, leader of the Warcry Nation. Do you want to arrest him for vagrancy too? Well, do you?!” said Corey, who stood next to a pile of dead cops with her arms folded.

Magnus tossed the pudgy sheriff aside and focused all of his attention on Corey, who cracked her knuckles, back, and neck before getting into a martial arts-esque fighting stance. The malevolent bear let out a destructive roar and then charged into his fierce rival, who wasted no time in throwing kicks, punches, knees, and elbows to the bear warrior’s ribs and stomach. These stiff shots rocked the monstrous creature back several steps, but it wasn’t until Corey threw a flying kick to the bear’s face that he was knocked on his back.

Corey jumped up in the air and planted both feet in Magnus’ gut, but the pissed off grizzly smiled a devilish grin at her and grabbed her ankles before standing up and spinning her around in a dizzying circle. The circular pressure made Corey so nauseous that she projectile vomited right in her opponent’s face, causing the big guy to drop her near one of the cops’ desks.

The human warrior was exhausted and was ready to pass out at any moment while the bear warrior, who just wiped the puke off of his face with his paw, was still ready to go. He even let out a battle cry that was so loud it could have waked the dead. But still there were cop corpses lying around everywhere bathed in blood and broken beyond repair.

The one cop who decided this vagrancy case was too important fired a shotgun blast right into Magnus’ ribcage. Hell yeah it hurt, but no more than a bee sting or spider bite. Instead of being in tremendous pain, Magnus just looked annoyed as he stared down Ace Hank with the intent to rip him to shreds.

As Ace shook while keeping the shotgun trained on the bear, Magnus Warcry said to Corey Darkside, “You know what, babe? I think I may have found someone who’s more of an asshole than you.”

The human barbarian was just coming around when she said, “Tell me about it. This guy cares more about his stupid vagrancy laws than he does about the people he’s paid to protect. Hey Magnus, I got a proposition for you.” She stood up and shook off her battle wounds. “What do you say we call a temporary peace between our tribes and instead beat the shit out of this guy. Hell, we can tear down his building for all I care. Truce?”

After Corey Darkside extended her hand, Magnus reluctantly shook it, but the mutual agreement was there nonetheless. He even said, “Don’t forget, woman, this is a temporary peace. Now let’s beat some ass!”

Ace Hank was terrified by what he just saw: two vagrant barbarians agreeing on the fact that he deserves to die and this building deserves to burn. He tried to aim the shotgun, but his hands were convulsing too hard to keep his grip and he eventually dropped it. He turned around and tried to run away, but his shaky legs and overweight body kept him from getting too far. He even stumbled over the dead body of one of his coworkers and just laid face down crying his eyes out and begging for forgiveness.

With Magnus grabbing Ace’s wrists and Corey grabbing the sheriff’s ankles, the bear warrior said, “On the count of three, were rip this chubby piece of garbage in half! One! Two! THREE!!”

RIP!!

"Red Blood, White Knuckles, Blue Heart" by Garrison Kelly

All of this reading of quick novels had to lead somewhere. For me, it lead to me publishing my first book on Lulu.com under the penname Garrison Kelly. It’s an anthology of my best work called “Red Blood, White Knuckles, Blue Heart”. You’re probably wondering why I chose to publish under a penname instead of Garrison Haines-Temons. It has nothing to do with my need for privacy, though that would be nice. To be honest, the name Kelly is harder to butcher than Haines-Temons. Throughout school, I’ve been called “Hynes-Tea-Moans”, “Hainees-Tee-muns”, and a bunch of other weird names that are obviously a product of linguistic ignorance. I used to embrace the idea of having a page in my books that told people how to pronounce my name, but I opted not to since Kelly is a more attractive last name anyways. But if you still want to know how my last name is pronounced, here it is. Haines rhymes with “chains” and Temons rhymes with “Simmons”. I know it seems weird that the E in Temons would be pronounced like a short I, but trust me, that’s how it’s said. Temons is a very old Gaelic name. It looks strange, but it’s pronounced only one way. Same thing goes for the name McLeod. It’s not pronounced “Mick-Lee-Uhd”. It’s pronounced “Mick-Loud”. I chose the name Garrison Kelly because it’s easy to say and we don’t have to have a debate over how it’s said. You’re probably wondering why I chose to talk about my last name instead of the actual anthology I’ve published. The answer is simple: if you want to know what to expect from my book, go to the link provided and read either the description or the back cover. I’ll warn you right now that none of these stories, letters, and poems are intended for the squeamish. I don’t do TV-G stuff except for on very rare occasions. This is not one of those occasions. There’s a reason why there’s a TV-MA logo on the American flag book cover. And yes, that is my older brother with the knife in his mouth. I took that photo of James back in 2006 and thought he would make a great Waldo Spiegel, one of the characters in the book. You’re probably wanting the link right about now. Okay, here it is. Happy reading!

　
http://www.lulu.com/shop/garrison-kelly/red-blood-white-knuckles-blue-heart/paperback/product-20672921.html