9 Crazy Board Games

by JL Mayne

I love board games. I spend more money on them than nearly anything else, buying a new one about every month or two. As of writing this, I haven’t gotten a new game in over a month and I’m pretty sure I’m going through withdrawals.

To help alleviate my pain, here is a list of some of the most bizarre board and card games I could find. I haven’t played all of them, and some are nearly impossible to get your hands on as they are out of print and/or old.

I’m really not sure what some of the creators were thinking…

Pimple Pete

To start off the list, let’s check out one of the most disgusting games I’ve come across. I saw this in my local Wal-Mart and was amazed that it was on the shelf.

In the game, kids are tasked with being wanna-be Dr. Pimple Poppers. They spin a dial, similar to twister, and extract a zit on the poor plastic man’s face. If they extraction goes awry, his nose explodes face juice (water) all over the kids and table.

Perfect. If… you know… you’re into that.

Smoker’s Wild

This game was made in 1978 in an attempt to get people to quit smoking, or avoid it altogether. In it, the players choose a profession which benefits from smoker’s ailments, like a mortician, and go through life (the board) gaining addiction to various brands of smokes and pawning their addictions off on others. The game ends after one or more people die. Like real life.

This game is bizarre enough that I’ve considered trying to find a copy just to have it in my own collection. And the guy on the front looks a bit like my dad did in his early life with his crazy hair, though, I don’t think he ever smoked that much. Good ol’ 80’s and their silly antics.

Kingdom Death: Monster

This is one of my favorite games. And is also one of the craziest things I’ve ever experienced.

In Kingdom Death, you are a survivor, lost in a nightmarish landscape filled with hideous monsters trying to eat your face. And, they usually do. Seriously, this game is brutal. It’s rules are tailored to kick you in the teeth time and time again and leave you begging for more.

Throughout the game, you and your fellow slaves (?) murderers (?) just messed up people, really, hunt monsters to gather everything from bones to lion testicles. All while trying to stay alive and come up with new ways to kill your friends and enemies.

You should play it. Maybe you’ll get to rip out an antelope’s 2nd heart like I did.

Consentacle

My buddy has this game and I haven’t had the chance to play it yet. I desperately want to. Who wouldn’t want to roleplay having consensual sex with a tentacle alien with one of your bros?

This is a cooperative game in which two players play cards in an attempt to have sexual relations with each other by getting good card combinations. In one of the game modes, you don’t get to say anything. Which makes sense considering the premise.

The game is supposed to be ridiculous and a lot of fun. I need to hit up my buddy and have some sexy tentacle action.

Burn in Hell

Ever dream of torturing the souls of the damned in your own private circle of hell? This game gives you a tiny taste of what it might be like. You trade and steal cards of various historical figures who have somehow found themselves in Tortureland.

This one sounds pretty fun. Maybe they have make-your-own cards so that I can put a few horrible people I’ve come across on them.

Endangered Orphans of Condyle Cove

If you’d rather torture parentless children than souls trapped in hell, then this is the game for you!

In Endangered Orphans, you choose a helpless orphan and roam Condyle Cove trying to not get eaten by the Boogey Man, while at the same time trying to get your friends eaten. Because it’s a dog-eat-dog world, and better them than you. The poor bastards.

The artwork is cute and disturbing, including the bones of past orphans floating in lakes and cats on lamp posts. Recommended for anyone who hates children.

Cards Against Humanity

 

Maybe the most popular game on the list, this game and I have a love-hate relationship which probably stemmed from playing it for 4 hours with my mom and dad. An awesome and horrible experience. Awesome that we were having a good time playing, and horrible that my mother saw that side of her adult son. She probably hasn’t looked at me the same since.

It’s a fun game, played out by simply picking a card, reading it, and then having everyone else pick a card that makes the most sense or is the funniest. I’ve learned a lot about sexual terms and horrible people from this game. There are also tons of expansions if you get burned out of the vanilla experience…  though, vanilla is far from what this game is.

 

Gother Than Thou

I’m kind of confused by this one. I really don’t get it. Of all the themes you could choose? I have nothing against goths, or any other lifestyle choices. You do you and all that. After all, that’s what the Motorist is about. The weird and bizarre. Challenging the normal and to hell with what others think! Long live the weird!

But, really… it’s made by either a hardcore goth or someone who was trying to make fun of them. I want to play it if only to see how goth I really am. You gain goth points and try to sabotage your goth buddies from being as goth… doesn’t really make sense.

 

Orgasmo

The name of the game is to last the longest. Something many of us are unfamiliar with.

 

In this sex-filled game, you play out wild orgies with a few of your friends using (I assume) cards. You’re attempting to keep you and your partner going the longest.

We could all learn a little from this game.

There you have it, 9 bizarre games for you to seek out and enjoy with a few odd and/or sexy friends. Maybe you could try mixing up your night by killing some monsters before having a wild orgy, or by acting them out at the same time. Whatever you’re into.

Vanity At Its Best or Worst: The Con is On – Film Review

The Con is On (2018, Lionsgate)

Review by Bob Freville

The term “vanity project” gets thrown around a lot, but it’s something that is normally applied to an art form attempted by a novice who is foreign to the field in question. When you hear that a sitcom actor like Charlie Sheen has put out a poetry collection or that a former child star like Corey Feldman is releasing a new album, these exercises loan themselves to the term.

What one doesn’t expect is to encounter a vanity project that exists within the sphere of that person’s area of expertise. And, yet, here I find myself gearing up to tell you all about a film populated by experienced actors and directed by a filmmaker with at least one previous feature under his belt.

I’m talkin’ The Con is On, formerly titled The Brits Are Coming, a 2018 heist movie that finds international talent of the highest caliber (Tim Roth, Uma Thurman, Stephen Fry, Parker Posey, Crispin Glover, Alice Eve, and so forth) having a blast with some of the most giddily absurd characters to ever sully the screen.

The plot is hopelessly convoluted, the pace is obstinately sluggish, and the characters’ motivations and morals are all but completely undeveloped. From a storytelling or film-making standpoint, The Con is On is a near-complete failure…unless you consider the very real possibility that the whole thing was a joke from the start.

When I think of the vanity project, my mind usually goes to the examples that James Franco has given us, diverse hit-or-miss entries into a determinedly varied canon of work. Franco is, without question, the best paradigm of the vanity artist as his works occur across a multitude of disciplines (paintings, poetry, films, novels, installations, music, et al.). Some of them are good, some of them are bad, but each is alive with their creator’s very obvious passion.

In other words, these are sincere attempts at an outpouring of creativity. They come from an impulse of the imagination, for good or ill. By contrast, The Con is On feels like it was engineered to be a vehicle for a group of actors tired of taking themselves seriously. It serves as little more than an excuse for them to shack up at the Chateau Marmont and have an extended on-screen (and off-screen?) bacchanalia.

Ostensibly James Oakley’s film is a heist comedy about two alcoholic crooks who flee to LA from their native England to avoid paying a debt they owe to a ruthless mobster. Once they’ve landed in sunny California, they hatch a plan to steal a ring worth several million dollars from the male crook (Tim Roth)’s ex-wife, a vapid and sex-starved Hollywood actress (Alice Eve) who’s fed up with her lecherous fiance (Crispin Glover).

That’s where the plot and the character development stop making sense…if they ever made any sense at all. All of the roles are hilariously miscast, but somehow they work perfectly when one accepts that this is not a heist movie so much as it is some drugged out foreigner’s idea of what a modern screwball comedy would look like through the hazy lens of a vacuous Hollywood celebrity lifestyle.

Roth is in top form as the drunken male crook who drinks an impossible amount of hard liquor in damn near every scene. Slumping, lurching and slurring his lines around every corner, often while screwing his face up into hideous and inexplicable expressions, Roth serves as the audience member’s on-screen surrogate. He seems as perplexed as we are that this entire affair is actually allowed to play out.

Parker Posey plays an unhinged personal assistant to Crispin Glover’s greasy auteur filmmaker, often hurling herself face first onto the massive staircase of the Hollywood couple’s mansion or stuffing her face in frosted cake. It is clear that she’s having a lot of fun playing crazy, but the reasons for this hysteria and her improbable pseudo-seduction of Roth’s character are never properly revealed.

Why she would malinger and obsess over a self-possessed adulterer who is already banging the equally unhinged Sofia Vergara is opaque at best and stupid at worst. This is just one of the script’s many handicaps.

As a work of cinematic art, The Con is On is terrible, but as an example of the anarchic spirit of so-called independent film it is a true paragon. Few films so openly relish the opportunity to waste other people’s money on a frivolous exercise in orgiastic scenery chewing.

Perhaps this film has the power to obliterate the term vanity project since vanity implies a certain sense of conceitedness on the artist’s part; it would take a generous amount of delusion to think that this film makes them look good. That, I think, may be the point they were after with this entire endeavor—to thumb their noses at the idea of Hollywood celebrities having to be pretty. Surely, their manic physicality and facial contortions are anything but.

To be sure, The Con is On is not a good movie…unless you get a kick out of the idea of Sofia Vergara begging the gargoyle-ish Glover to fuck her in the hyena-like voice that made her a Modern Family mainstay. It’s a picture by and for industry insiders who understand the imbecilic nature of the rather incestuous film world and its major players.

It’s also a film for the kind of freaks who can get a fine chuckle out of Ionesco-worthy lines like, “Anyone who thinks a non-military grade rappeling cable can support the weight of two grown men and a miniature donkey deserves to fall off a cliff.”

What this vanity pic proves is that it is still possible for actors to play in the ball pit while flipping their agents the bird. After all, they’ve earned it by embarrassing themselves in enough equally egregious mainstream blockbusters. They should at least be able to embarrass themselves on their own terms. It’s high time they get to enjoy some cocktails and have some real fun.

Sam Hill “Book ov Sam: Infernal Depths” – Album Review

by Ben Arzate

Sam Hill is the alter-ego of New York hip hop artist Cage Kennylz, real name Chris Palko. Cage started off as a rapper known for saying controversial and off-the-wall things. His first single was “Agent Orange,” a song which sampled the theme from A Clockwork Orange and included promises to “fuck your head up like cornrows put in by blind giants” and “start bugging like an insect and lay larvae in your ear.” It shouldn’t come as a surprise that self-described death rapper Necro was the producer.

He continued on this angry, PCP-fueled tip on his debut album Movies for the Blind. This album included songs like “Suicidal Failure,” in which Cage graphically describes failed suicide attempts, and “CK Won,” a song that has the line “Chris Palko is giving these bitches mouthfuls / Then it’s ‘thank you’ notes on they face with scalpels.” Because of this, he was often put in the “horrorcore” genre with rappers like Necro and Esham.

Starting on his second album, Hell’s Winter, Cage took a more introspective turn. This one included more politically-oriented tracks and stories about his personal life. Cage stayed on this path with his next two albums, Depart from Me and Kill the Architect. I personally found those albums lacking and many of his older fans did as well, prompting some to want the older Cage back.

Cage must have recognized this as in 2012 he debuted his alter-ego Sam Hill with the singles “Misanthrope” and “Super Baked.” These brought back the violent, drug-oriented lyrics from the Movies for the Blind era, as well as bringing in some darker, trap-ish production compared to his newer albums. “Super Baked” even included a reference to Alex the Worm King, a character that often appeared in Cage’s earlier songs.

Despite this, a full-length Sam Hill project wouldn’t see a release until 2018 with Book ov Sam: Infernal Depths. From the title, to the art, to the subject matter of the songs, Cage fully embraced the “horrorcore” genre with this record. Almost every song is about murder, Satanism, the occult, and blasphemy.

The album starts off strong with “Prey to Jesus.” It’s a low-key song with dark minimalist trap production and a catchy hook, “I was pray praying to the beast.” It quickly lets us know what we’re in for with lines like “Flipping through demonic texts, starving like Ghandi /False acolytes only in it to be godly.” At only two minutes, it doesn’t overstay its welcome either.

“Sam’s Klvb” continues on the blasphemous, Satan-worshiping theme. This one probably has my favorite production. Its synths and samples are genuinely nightmarish and unnerving, and the drums hit hard. The hook is kind of weak, being a mumbled set of lyrics with some rather cheesy vocal effects, but otherwise it’s a solid song.

Surprisingly, both “Misanthrope” and “Super Baked” are on this album despite being six-years-old. They’re slightly altered here from the original releases. They also don’t really fit the Satanic theme present in all the other songs, but they’re probably the best ones on the album.

“Misanthrope” is an aggressive drug song with production that reminds me of early Three 6 Mafia and a hook where Sam declares “I don’t want to be a criminal or thug out/I just want to pick up a gun and blow your blood out.” “Super Baked” is another excellent song. The production and lyrics sound like an excellent mix of Movies for the Blind and Hell’s Winter era Cage. It’s probably my favorite song on the album.

Some moments here cross the line into campy. “Ouija Bored” is the worst offender. It starts off with a horribly acted skit about people playing an Ouija Board, has the weakest production on the album, and a bridge which sounds like something off a corny Halloween sing-along. “Tree ov Death,” while a much better track overall, also has a corny bridge with Sam Hill chanting about the Book of Life and Book of Death in a way that’s just kind of annoying.

Overall, despite its flaws, Book ov Sam: Infernal Depths is a promising start to the Sam Hill project. Fans of Cage expecting a return to the age of Movies for the Blind will be mostly disappointed as this goes in a different direction. This likely won’t win over any new fans either. However, it is a new and refreshing direction for Cage Kennylz and I think it’s his best since Hell’s Winter. If you’re also fascinated by the idea of a hip hop album about Satan and the occult, this is also well worth a listen.

One thing to note is that Book ov Sam: Infernal Depths is only available for streaming or download at the moment. However, vinyl copies are planned in the near future.

5 Weird Books You’ve Probably Never Read

The title of this post may seem like clickbait when you see the legendary authors that landed on this list, but despite their reputations as literary behemoths, the books in question are far weirder and way more obscure than almost anything else in their respective canons. You won’t find  seminal characters like Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas’s Raoul Duke or Hellraiser’s Pinhead/Priest anywhere in sight.

What you will find are some of the strangest and most unsung literary works to ever be pounded into parchment. From salacious specters and violent dwarves to dangerous cheerleaders and questionable reincarnations, the following represent the very best in these writers’ forgotten works.

The Curse of Lono, Hunter S. Thompson (Bantam Books)

Emerging from what could seem like kismet or cruel fate, depending on who you ask, The Curse of Lono chronicles what happened after Running magazine approached Gonzo journalist Hunter S. Thompson about covering the 1980 Honolulu Marathon.

In a fit of pique, Thompson wrote his longtime illustrator Ralph Steadman about joining him on this journey which he clearly saw as an opportunity to create a spiritual follow-up to their landmark Fear & Loathing collaborations.

‘Lono’ doesn’t disappoint, delivering plenty of madcap satire and hallucinatory imagery, but the Gonzo humorist is scattered and unmoored in a way that he definitely was not when he penned his masterpiece. In fact, it is the uneven narrative and repeated historical digressions that give this novella its weirdest quality, that sense as a reader that everything is slightly askew.

First published in 1983, ‘Lono’ eventually went out of print and by the early-Aughts, it was nigh impossible to snag yourself a copy of the limited edition reprint for less than 120 bucks. No doubt Thompson, notorious for demanding money at every opportunity, would have relished in this fact.

Today, a copy of this massive oversize coffee table book generally goes for around $35 on sites like AbeBooks, and it’s well worth the price of admission. From the opening scenes in which Thompson’s arm turns blue from fist to elbow after getting it trapped in the airplane toilet to his fateful meeting with the enigmatic Ackerman, whose connections to the Hawaiian drug trade make for a subtle mystery sub-plot, ‘Lono’ crackles with Thompson’s bizarre wit.

The weirdness is amped up when they arrive at their destination and Thompson sees talking penguins over cocktails. It only gets more odd after the gimcrack-loving Gonzo godfather gets his hands on a Samoan war club and uses it to beat a trophy Marlin to death.

While it lacks the raw brilliance and generation-defining components that make the “Vegas book” such an important literary achievement, Thompson’s beautifully indelible language and yen for Fun are still intact…along with his penchant for grandstanding. The main thrust of ‘Lono’ is Thompson’s proclamation “I am Lono!” This is the engine that the second half of the plot runs on and it seems beyond absurd. But at the end of the day, who are we to say that Hunter S. Thompson wasn’t, indeed, the freak reincarnation of the doomed god Lono?

A Feast of Snakes, Harry Crews (Scribner/Simon & Schuster)

Harry Crews is one of the finest authors of Southern grit lit, but many of his titles have fallen out of print. Fortunately, A Feast of Snakes is still readily available in paperback. While this one may not be his most esoteric novel, it is definitely one of his weirdest. And that’s saying a lot when one considers the imaginatively grotesque underworld he created in his cult classic Naked in Garden Hills.

This one doesn’t waste any time in ramping up the weirdness; we’re off to the ribald races in the very first paragraph: “She felt the snake between her breasts, felt him there, and loved him there, coiled, the deep tumescent S held rigid, ready to strike.”

Snakes’ revolves around Mystic, Georgia’s annual Rattlesnake Roundup and the hysteria that attends this local tradition. More specifically, it revolves around Joe Lon Mackey, a withering former football star and trailer park drunk whose family breed fight dogs and sell moonshine.

The book is full to the brim with violent and repulsive imagery, from genital mutilation to cretinish backwoods behavior, but there are other sights to be seen here, including one of the most out-of-left-field shit gags that you are likely to ever read.

Mackey makes a foreboding declaration early on, one that cannot prepare you for the chaotic conclusion of this curiously funny eldritch tale. Reflecting on the hordes of primitive hilljacks that turn out in droves for the Miss Mystic Rattle beauty contest, he observes, “Just a bunch of crazy people cranking up to git crazier. But that’s all right. Feel on the edge of doing something outstanding myself.”

And that Joe Lon Mackey does.

If you’re in for more inexplicable strangeness from the late, great Crews seek out a copy of the out-of-print This Thing Don’t Lead to Heaven. It may cost you a hundy, but as Hunter Thompson would say, “Buy the ticket, take the ride.”

Coldheart Canyon, Clive Barker (HarperTorch/HarperCollins)

The name Clive Barker is synonymous with strange and unspeakable images, having produced countless creatures in a slew of novels, novellas, short stories, comic books and motion pictures. However, Coldheart Canyon stands out among his more famous offerings (The Hellbound Heart, Imajica, Cabal, The Great & Secret Show) in that it features flawed flesh and bone human beings in central roles. Billed as a Hollywood Ghost Story, Coldheart Canyon focuses on Todd Pickett, a washed-up movie star who is hideously deformed during plastic surgery.

In the wake of the botched surgery, Pickett must go into hiding lest the paparazzi get a glimpse of his deformity. Pickett’s agent selects the abandoned former home of a once-beautiful 1920s movie actress.

What makes ‘Canyon’ weird is the twist that Barker puts on the classic ghost story. These ghosts are Bacchanalian swingers who fuck in the courtyard. When they’re not getting off, they’re rather vengeful as Pickett soon learns.

What’s weirder is the relationship that develops between Pickett and the obese woman who runs his unofficial fan club. As this robust volume unfolds, it is she who emerges as the smartest and most heroic character. Without a doubt, this is the sharpest and most subversive Barker has been in years, and it’s delightful to witness what old Hollywood personalities become in his callused hands.

Grape City, Kevin L. Donihe (Eraserhead Press)

For those familiar with author Kevin L. Donihe’s work, Grape City is an especially interesting read. It shows Donihe’s extraordinary talent for making the uncommon seem commonplace and the commonplace seem absolutely deranged.

Grape City was my introduction to the world of Bizarro fiction and I’m glad I read it when I did since all subsequent entries into the genre should have to be measured against the clarity of its prose and the sharpness of its satire.

Donihe himself has said that it isn’t a book that he counts among his favorites, but I don’t care. If anything this reminds me of filmmaker John Waters saying that Desperate Living is the film he likes the least of all his titles. It is worth noting that this very same John Waters movie is an enduring fan favorite. Marilyn Manson can be counted among those fans, having sampled its dialogue on his debut LP Portrait of an American Family. One could easily see the same happening with the demented words of Donihe’s debut novella.

Grape City’s protagonist is a world-weary demon named Charles who is forced to be berated by his pipsqueak boss at a fast food restaurant. He whiles away his time on our crumbling clusterfuck of a planet by writing desperate emails to a Satan who won’t return his calls.

There is little that one could say isn’t weird about Grape City…were it not for the simple fact that the foul earth Donihe conjures in its pages is most certainly an outsized version of the one we now inhabit. The culturally-accepted past-times of hack-raping and bang-murdering referenced in the book aren’t a far cry from the insanity we see in our everyday news cycle.

It is the precision with which Donihe lampoons these abominable acts that makes this Bizarro novella such a bladder-shatteringly fun read. I dare you to read it at work without drawing looks of pity and concern from co-workers.

Although this book has gone largely unrecognized by even the indie press, it is available in paperback on Amazon.

God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater, Kurt Vonnegut (Holt, Rinehart & Winston)

Kurt Vonnegut is well-known and, indeed, well-regarded for his proclivities towards the weird and wacky. Despite being held in high esteem by the literati, he has always featured bizarre imagery and strange sub-plots in his canon, from the constant peripheral presence of fictional sci-fi novelist Kilgore Trout to the funky little drawings in Breakfast of Champions, Vonnegut never disappoints the discerning reader who is keen on camp and chaos.

What some may forget is how serious a writer he is and, most importantly, what a humanitarian he considered himself. What makes God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater particularly weird isn’t any gross detail or gory sequence; it’s simply how beautifully earnest its words are.

Far and away Vonnegut’s least talked about novel, ‘Mr. Rosewater’ sings from page one, a hushed lullaby that can only be heard by the downtrodden and tethered to earth. Like Cervantes’ classic about fighting windmills, Vonnegut’s novel presents a plot that would, at first blush, appear to be just absurd and pathetic…but along the way its bloated and seemingly simple philanthropist becomes what all men should aspire to—a renaissance man and a real martyr, bearing witness to the undoing of man by money.

In a world driven by commerce and financial status symbols, really, what could be weirder than a book about the root of all evil?

Honorable Mentions:

 

 

 

 

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—Bob Freville

Cherry Blossom Eyes by S.T. Cartledge – Book Review

Review by Ben Arzate

The Isle of Flowers is covered with cherry blossom trees, the primary resource of its inhabitants. Every winter, or “the Cold” as they call it, freezing lotus flowers bloom, requiring them to burn the trees for warmth. The trees, however, are starting to thin out. What’s worse, sea creatures called “tourists” with the ability to mimic the look of anything often come on to the island to kill the inhabitants and take their place. When Blanko and Margot begin to suspect that Margot’s mother has been replaced by a tourist, it leads them on a quest to learn the truth and find Margot’s real mother.

The sun came up a cherry blossom and burst its rose gold light into the sky. Its scent was pure and fresh, its petals flickered playfully in the cosmic wind and cast the light dancing down upon the Isle of Flowers.”

If I had to describe Cherry Blossom Eyes in a single sentence, I would say that it reads a lot like what would happen if Richard Brautigan wrote a horror novel. The setting is colorful and fantastic, yet the people who reside in it feel very much like real people. Cartledge creates an atmosphere of paranoia with the story of people being replaced by the tourist sea creatures. The Isle of Flowers is an almost-paradise seemingly ruined by outside malevolent forces.

We quickly see how afraid the residents of the Isle of Flowers are of the tourists. A large part of their society revolves around keeping them off the island and they’re very quick to accuse each other of being tourists when they act off in any way. Cartledge naming the creatures “tourists” is an interesting choice. Most obviously, it’s a reference to the hate and fear of outsiders by the locals of the Isle of Flowers. In regards to their shape-shifting abilities, it makes reference to them being the temporary inhabitants of a form which is not their own. There is also an intense irony in the creatures being called tourists when their true nature is revealed.

The most impressive thing about Cherry Blossom Eyes to me is how it combines its colorful prose with a gripping, page-turning story. I often found myself conflicted between wanting to read slowly to absorb the descriptions of the island and wanting to read through it fast to find out what happens next. The opening drew me in with a beautiful description of the island, its inhabitants, and their rituals—a misleadingly tranquil scene that sets things in motion very well.

I called this a horror novel, but I wouldn’t say that’s entirely accurate. Paranoia is a heavy theme in the book and the transforming tourist monsters come across as horrifying initially, but there is much more going on here. Besides the obvious surrealist setting, there’s a heavy coming-of-age aspect as Blanko reflects on his past growing up on the island and learning things he never knew about before. As with most “bizarro” books, this one does not fit neatly into any one genre.

Cherry Blossom Eyes is a beautifully written, gripping book. S.T Cartledge creates a unique setting and uses it to an excellent effect. This is easily one of the best bizarro books I’ve read recently and I highly recommend it.

To order a copy, visit https://eraserheadpress.com