Mar 12 - Mar 16, 2012

The Bighead
Edward Lee
Horror
Published 1992
274 pages

8/10

  Deep in the woods of Luntville (did you say...?  Ooooohhhhh, Luntville....  Carry on) there lives a man-beast called the Bighead.  His cranium is the size and shape of a watermelon, one eye is the size of a grapefruit while the other is the size of a grape, and his teeth look like carpet needles.  He rapes and kills nearly every person he... comes across (heh heh) with his gigantic monster penis and usually proceeds to eat parts of them, and he's going to visit some lovely people staying  at a nearby B&B...

  "Bighead didn't know!  He didn't know doodly-squat!  He were a deformed, woods-rompin', brain-eatin', pussy-bustin' retart." 
 
  I heard a lot of lore and urban legends about this book - it was supposed to be the nastiest, most disgusting, most graphic read out there.  Obviously, I HAD to have it, but I could never find the damn thing.  Luckily (unluckily?) for me, I was able to get it via the glory of the internetz and finally able to see what all the fuss was about.
  And my oh my, the fuss was well deserved!

WARNING!  EXTREMELY GRAPHIC CONTENT AHEAD!  COVER YOUR EYES, CONSERVATIVE FACTION OF THE INTERNET!  OR CLICK                                   HERE!

  I mean, rednecks kidnap and rape an elderly woman in her colostomy bag hole (I found out this was called a stoma from a customer at work... Reason #897 I love working at a Weed Store - I could never discuss these things at a straight job).  Nuns throw physics to the wayside and piss up a preacher's ass.  The Bighead rapes and kills a pregnant girl, sucks the baby out of her vagina and eats its brains.  I'm not making this shit up, people.  And I can see why this book caused a stir.
  Not only was it a bloody gore-o-rama, but there was a discernible plot and an honest to goodness mystery to keep my brain limber.  It was a little confusing at times, and occasionally convoluted, but it was still a real plot.  I consider that a grand gesture for this genre. 
  I was entertained, and even more so than usual, because I could describe certain acts throughout my read to disgusted friends, family, and one oddly unruffled head shop customer.
  There were some editing issues, but I've found that to be pretty prevalent in e-books.  I don't know what the fucking deal is with that - something must be getting lost in translation - but the majority of e-books I read are fucked in some way or another. 
  I could go on, but the Bighead is what it is, and it's simply this: a nasty-ass bit of literature (can I even use that word here?) to help a girl procrastinate.  Chores?  What chores?  I'm reading here!  Do you want me to tell you about it?  This guy here, he's got a monster cock, see...

  Oh wait, wrong book...

Feb 21 - Feb 26, 2012

The Devil Next Door
Tim Curran
Horror
Published 2009
333 pages

5.5/10

  During an average normal day, people go about their business just as they always do.  But suddenly, and without warning, bloodlust enrages nearly every man, woman, and child, and civilization falls in a matter of hours.  For the few lone folks who have kept their wits about them, danger is everywhere; but when night falls, things take a turn for the worse...

  Senseless is the best word I can think of to describe this book.  Without rhyme or reason, people go absolutely ballistic; every other page is an orgy of blood, rape, violence, and/or cannibalism.  Generally, that kind of thing appeals to me.  I adore the nasty stuff.  But a couple of aspects made it somewhat difficult for me to really properly enjoy this book.
  First off (and most definitely the biggest offender) I found it VERY repetitive.  Not only did the same basic scenes play themselves out over and over again (person discovers neighbor/loved one/friend has gone crazy; person goes crazy and eviscerates family member/beloved pet/stranger; etc.) but the author also used a lot of the same metaphors, phrasing, and words with jarring regularity.  The word 'altruistic' came up so many times that I could almost anticipate when I would see it again.  And the comparisons of the crazy people to dogs or animals were just kind of smashed into your psyche at every turn.  I get it.  People have regressed. 

  You don't have to keep telling me.  I haven't regressed.  In fact, I have a fully functioning frontal lobe.  Yeesh.
  I wasn't super keen on the writing (editing errors here and there, no commas where I would have put commas, unnecessary italics) but it was still generally understandable. 
  Another serious offender was that it took almost 200 pages before the plot really went anywhere.  Hey, don't get me wrong, I love mayhem as much as the next guy... probably ever more than the next guy, if he's normal.  But seriously man, GET TO THE FUCKIN' POINT.
  Once it picked up though, it went rolling well enough that I read the last third in a third of the time it took me to read the first two thirds (while traveling twice the speed it takes me to get to Nap City on the Comfy Couch Express).  There were also scenery changes and even some character development.  And I'll freely admit it: I liked the gore.  The ending was a pretty good culmination of the book as a whole, and I probably enjoyed the final scene most out of the entire story.
  If you're a skimmer with a twisted mind, you'll really like this book.  Definitely more than I did, but then again, I can't skim.

  Either.

Jan 3 - Jan 4, 2012

Wake Wood
K. A. John
Horror
Published 2011
295 pages

7/10

  In the tiny Irish village of Wake Wood, the residents welcome newcomers only if they're a certain type of people, as they live in a very... special place.  Patrick and Louise have just lost their daughter in a horrific accident, and are living shattered shells of their former lives, barely hanging on to any semblance of their former selves.  And Wake Wood is welcoming them with open arms.

  This book is what would happen if Pet Sematary and Village of the Damned got together for a cheap one night stand and had a baby made of paper and ink.  Literally.  Only the names seem to be different.  I mean, I don't think I can really complain; when I read the synopsis on the back of the book, I thought, "This sounds just like Pet Sematary!  I LOVED that shit!" and then whisked it up to the insane Boxing Day line-up at Chapters, where I then witnessed a crazy lady scream, "I'm not leaving without my KKKOOOOOBBBBBOOOOO!" and then got chased by the managers and security as she ran screaming through the store, and eventually got dragged out to the waiting police.    It was a good time.
  The problem is, because I've already seen and read Pet Sematary, and seen (but not read) Village of the Damned (I've actually seen that one multiple times, because hot ass Kirstie Alley is hot) I was easily able to predict where the story was going.  I mean, I pretty much figured out where shit was going once I read the back, so I just had to wait for the book to catch up with my *ahem* stunning intellect, which, luckily, didn't take too long.  It was a super quick and easy read, and it required very little brain power to get through it, so even when I gapped out over the course of a page or two, all I had to do was a quick re-skim to get the gist of what was happening.  I literally blasted through this in less than 24 hours, which is pretty fuckin' good for me these days.  Hey, I have a busy social life, including themes such as ferret playdates, Thirsty Thursday, and recovering from Thirsty Thursday. 
  There was enough blood and guts and horror to get me interested, and it was weird enough to keep me going.  There was most definitely some bizarre scenarios being played out on the regular, and I like weird.  I wouldn't have been interested in the first place if there was no weirdness to draw me in.  And I have to admit, K. A. John can paint a ruined, crushed, and utterly destroyed female protagonist pretty damn well.
  The part that bothered me the most though ( besides the blatant disregard for animal welfare) was that it ended so abruptly and without explanation.  It was as though the author was under deadline, was supposed to have the last 50 pages done for the next day, got shit-hammered (possibly at Thirsty Thursday?) and threw the epilogue together while she was hungover.  It made little sense, and would have benefited from longer treatment.
  My opinion?  A good beach or camping read, but hardly literature.
   

Sep 22 - Sep 25, 2011

Inside the Outside
Martin Lastrapes
Horror
Published July 9, 2011
292 pages

10/10

  Somewhere outside Vegas, a happy little commune practices regular full-body shaving, the sharing of sex partners and child-rearing, and ritual sacrifice to provide for cannibalism.  All this is overseen by their glorious virile leader, who is leading them to salvation.  And possibly the human version of Mad Cow Disease.  Seems like my kind of party.

  Cara and I found this story in our inbox; the author wondered if we'd perhaps read and review it.  Sure, I thought.  As soon as I get an E-Reader.  And wade through the other requests.  And maybe check out some of my other books.  I'd get to it.  Eventually.
  Then Cara mentioned the cannibals.  And I got a kobo.  And of course I had to learn how to load the thing, and Inside the Outside wound up being the first thing that came up when I turned on my kobo.  And I did recall the cannibals, so even though I had reservations about reading something free (People don't give away awesome stuff!  If it's free, there must be something wrong with it!) I gave it a go... and I'm so freakin' glad I did!
  I picked this story up, and I literally could not put it down.  I was reading it at work.  I was reading it at a party last night.  I fell asleep in bed with it in my hands at 2AM two nights in a row.  I was totally hooked, and reading at every possible second.  Honestly, I wish all my reading experiences were like this; I'd burn through WAY more books.
  First off, the subject matter is right up my alley.  Cannibal cults?  Human sacrifice?  Uninhibited sex?  Prostitution and pornography?!  Can I get a double helping splashed with gore gravy and incest sprinkles?!  I can?!  Because that's my favorite!  This book literally included all the elements of the "gross" and "weird" and "inappropriate for a birthday party" books that I LOVE to read (occasionally out loud).
  I found myself excited by all of the characters - the charismatic cult leader who loves to fuck, kill, and eat people; the sweet, gentle homosexual pornographer and his stripper-cum-internet-sensation companion; the crooked cop with an all-too-human secret; even the minor characters added interesting little detours.  When an underage girl slits her own throat because her lover's been publicly decapitated, you know you've got an exciting story.  And our female protagonist is one cool cat indeed.  Timber was raised a corpse mutilating cannibal, and I love that she never really grows out of that.  She doesn't generally feel shame or remorse for who she was, and who she has become.  She simply is who she is.  She eats people.  Tough titties. 
  Maybe I like this, and Timber, so much because I find cannibalism and it's social taboos fascinating.  I personally can see no issue with eating human flesh, since as a society, we eat animal flesh all the time, and humans are just another fleshy animal.  And while I myself have no interest in sampling the delicacies of "long pig" ("I am a vegetarian you know..." she said, snobbishly) I certainly don't judge others who do.  As long as it's consensual, obviously. 

  As a side note, if, like myself, you have an interest in stuff like this, check out this sweet ass documentary I watched on Netflix- "Keep The River On Your Right" chronicles Tobias Schneebaum's trek through the wilds of Peru, where he engages in many grand adventures, including eating human flesh, participating in tribal attacks, and taking a life companion, who also happens to be another man.  Schneebaum comes across as an incredibly sweet and intelligent man, who partook in some motherfucking AMAZING adventures, the likes of which we could only dream about.  He ate human flesh, and he's cool (and hard) as fuck.  Seriously.  Watch this.

Plus, Woodhouse from Archer eats long pig, and he is also cool (and hard) as fuck.  This whole review is almost a peer pressure ad for cannibalism.  I wouldn't recommend it though: I'm pretty sure it's illegal in a lot of places.
  My point is, Timber accepts herself for who she is, and our author is willing to let this book stand on its awesomeness, instead of trying to turn it into some namby-pamby "overcoming the horrible nature of her upbringing to discover the error of her ways, repent, and persevere to find the inner goodness that we all have inside of us" Oprah-esque bullshit.  The story is good; it doesn't require that kind of schmaltz to make it digestible for the masses. 
  That doesn't mean that it's not an easy read, though.  I flew through the damn thing.  There was tons of action to keep me interested; enough contemplations and musings for me to get to know, and therefore care about the characters, but not so much that I got bored; and everyone just kind of dealt with their shit up front and moved on, like how normal human beings should.
  As this book was set up in two parts, I worried that it would all go downhill once I finished the first part, which was so badass and all encompassing that it could have easily been a stand alone novella.  Really, I didn't know how the author could live up to the standard I set for him.  When I started Part Two, I thought, "Oh boy, here it comes, a bunch of real world assimilation bullshit and the inevitable change of heart and the real world mediocre dullness."  Luckily, I was totally wrong, and my fears were completely unfounded, because there was still plenty of murder, sex (Even the gay kind!  Excellent!) and corruption.  What a relief!
  If I had to express any complaint with this book whatsoever, I would have to say I'm not so shit hot for the cover.  It made me think this was a sci-fi book, for whatever reason.  I kind of thought it was a robot or something.  Now that I've read the book, I totally get it.  Except for why she's holding a feather duster.  That I still don't get.  But if that's the only fault I can find with a book, I'm counting myself fortunate.
  I was sent this book, to review, for free, and it was FUCKING EXCELLENT.  It gives me hope and encouragement that free stuff can be awesome, to try out those neat free downloads from unknowns that I keep coming across, and that maybe, just maybe, I'll eventually find a use for those painting I snagged off the curb two months ago.

Sep 5 - Sep 7, 2011

Snuff
Adam Huber and Eric Enck
Torture Porn/Horror
Published May 2008
168 pages

6.5/10

  A couple of sick fucks with a propensity for rapin' get into the business of snuff films for profit, but, surprisingly, they find themselves with an enemy or two along the way.

  Remember how, in my previous review, I said, "If you're going to write torture porn, go all the way" ?  THIS book went all the way.  And then some.  The creators of this story  were definitely imaginative; murder after murder after murder, there was always some sort of new and interesting violence being inflicted upon the hapless victim. Yeah, I was mighty disturbed and disgusted, but I look upon that as a positive aspect in my reading experience. 
  Unfortunately, I found a lot of negative aspects in this book, too.  
  As a whole, the story was fairly unbelievable.  Every character was either a completely twisted psychopath of a human being, a drug-addled prostitution whore,  or a one-dimensional plot propellant (e.g. animal shelter employee, bereaved mom, abused sibling, etc).  Sure, a couple of our psychos had back stories, but they themselves didn't really develop.  We met them as twisted, damaged individuals, and so they stagnated.  
  I understand that people like this really do exist, but with no redeeming characters to feel for, there's really no saving grace, either.  Maybe I'm jaded, but when "Random Victim #2" gets disemboweled, I give it a big 'meh' and move on.  Kill someone whose death would be considered tragic, unexpected, heart breaking, and I might give a damn.
  As for the writing itself, it was over-complicated at the outset (too many cooks in the kitchen?) but settled into a nice flow as the book progressed.  Well, it would have been a nice flow, had I not come across at least A DOZEN editing errors throughout my perusing.  There is NO EXCUSE FOR 12+ EDITING ERRORS IN A PUBLISHED BOOK.  Give me a job as editor.  I'll keep that shit on lockdown.
  The final conclusion was a great touch, although I immediately expected it when one plot point was revealed halfway through, and a few pages from the end I did recall my sneaking suspicion.  But the writing was fast-paced enough that I forgot all about it for most of the pages between.  And it still packed a pretty mean punch.
  
  Final verdict?  While I enjoyed the gore, it was difficult to become emotionally invested in a story where the characters are all assholes.       

Sep 2 - Sep 4, 2011
Suffer the Flesh
Monica J. O'Rourke
Horror/Torture Porn/Erotica 
Published 2002
143 pages

8/10

  A hefty young lady is kidnapped off the street and brought to a sex torture dungeon/diet camp, where fat girls go to get raped, humiliated, and mutilated so that they can be stressed enough to lose weight.  Sound like a good investment?  Well then, read on!

  OK.  This is the kind of book that you either like, or you don't.  And I almost don't want to confirm myself into either category.  What does it say about you when you like torture porn?  That you're a sick fuck.  What does it say when you DON'T?  That you're a pussy.  But I'd rather be watching Hostel than reading "inspirational fiction" so I guess you know where I stand on this one.  Count me in for the "Sick Fuck" demographic.
  Right off the bat I want to say that no matter how good or bad this book could have been, I wish I'd had access to books like this when I was in high school for our book report assignments.  
  'I think the scene where Lucy gets raped by the Great Dane is really just a metaphor for the epic struggle of Man vs. Nature - Man (or Lucy, in this instance) believes he has dominated nature (the Great Dane) but is brought back to the harsh reality of Nature's vast power (the Great Dane penis) and his illusions are ultimately shattered, as symbolized by Lucy's vagina "tearing, like tissue paper being ripped to shreds."  Thank you.'  End report, and proceed with initializing slow clap.  
  But back to the book itself.  Sure, I love torture porn.  Who doesn't?  Don't answer that, actually; I'd rather assume everyone is into it, as opposed to me being the only weirdo in the room.  And the scenes in the story were all pretty vivid - there was a great period last night where we all sat around the campfire and I read a couple of chapters out loud for my riveted pals.  It was awesome.
  But the story seemed to be written mostly for the sake of detailing the nasty, as there wasn't much character development to be seen, and there were some pretty serious continuity errors, which I can't really get into without giving away some key plot points.  Suffice to say, I noticed because I'm a bit of an nit-picky editor when it comes to my reading material.  So fine, gratuitous torture porn for the sake of gratuitous torture porn.  Awesome.  But in that case, go all the way and run with it!  Urinate on a broad, but don't defecate on her chest?  Have a dog nail a chick, but don't have it tear her throat out after?  If you want to be brutal, BE BRUTAL.  Pick a side and give it your all, don't wuss out on both aspects instead.
  I can't believe I just argued for that.  Please don't judge me.
  I will say that the premise was totally original, it was a hell of a page turner (how could something as innocent sounding as "The Pear" be so bad?  Oh.  CHRIST.  That's how...) and overall, it was an enjoyable reading experience, because it was just dang entertaining.  And very, very gross. 

October and Onwards
The Walking Dead
Zombie Comic

10/10 (so far)

  So, I've been sick as a dog for just over a week now, and I'm supposed to be reading our book club pick (our FIRST book club pick, actually, so yeah, a little pressure there) and it's a heavy: Lolita; my absolute favorite book of all past-present-and-future time.  A classic, so you KNOW it's gonna take a little more brain power than the usual.  The thing is, my brain hurts something fierce... well, what little brain I've got left, anyways; I'm worried the majority of it has been leaking out my nostrils or being blown to bits into various sandpaper-y feeling tissue-like receptacles.  I find it difficult to focus on the good stuff when I can hardly think in general, so I've hunkered down with some light reading instead; some pretty poignant stuff, considering the situation: zombie comics.  The Walking Dead series, to be precise.  I'll try to keep spoilers to a minimum folks.
  Just so you know, I love me some undead.  There's just something about a Zombie Apocalypse that sends little shivers of delight through the cockles of my heart.  I've always loved horror literature; violence and gore tickle my fancy like nothing else.  I suppose that's why the idea of blasting rotted corpses into Kingdom Come while holed up in my local abandoned Chapters is more of a dream come true than a nightmare.  So when I got the entire Walking Dead collection, I was excited as all get out. 
  I read my first chunk consisting of issues one through ten a few days ago, and tonight I picked back up and read straight through to issue twenty-seven.  I'm not going to lie; it's kind of a blur of gratuitous violence, sneezing, drama, and NeoCitran.  But I like where the story is going, and the art is rad.  I mean, full color would have been nice, but I'm spoiled rotten, and I'm not going to kick this out of bed, so to speak.  The zombies are the classic type; slow and hungry.  Dismembered, desiccated, and disastrously dressed.  I swear, I saw one wearing a bolo tie.  Our survivors are the usual rag-tag, motley crew - farmer, lawyer, biker, cop... if the rest of the Village People show up, there had better be a fantastic rendition of YMCA, whether or not all parties are breathing.  But all American cultural stereotypes/disco jokes aside, our characters are regular believable human beings; we have a good-guy turned loose cannon protagonist; gentle giant but mighty handy with a hammer friend; old guy and young chick shacking up (way to break cultural stereotypes again, guys) emotionally distressed chick; emotionally distressed chick; emotional, pregnant, and distressed chick... and unfortunately, I've found myself with a bit of a hate-on for our protagonists wife.  Cunty and philandering aren't my favorite character traits, no matter what your chromosomal makeup is.  Come to think of it, I'm not really warming up to most of the ladies in general... perhaps because our female characters are portrayed as kind of... wiener-y.  They all seem to be desperate to shack up with the first dude (or couple in one case) who shows them any real or feigned interest.  Comic book creators have a distorted sense of real live females.  Color me surprised.  The men seem to be faring better; not that they'd have much of a choice.  If they were acting like the women, well... they'd be a lot less lively, har dee har har.  But so far they've got a good system; delegation of tasks, systematic destruction of zombie threats, and lots of good old fashioned boning.  Obviously, it would make the most sense to stay put and just fortify the shit out of their fortress, but that wouldn't make for much a story.  So as it stands now, our fearless (demoted) leader and a couple of the braver types have found themselves in another fortified area with a few locals, and those at home are (women) pining and (men) working.  And the zombies... oh, you know, the usual clawing at the perimeter fence for juicy delicious braaaaiiiiiiins.  Hell, they just seem hungry for live human bits in general.  There's lots of fantastic violence to satisfy even the most demented types (such as myself); heads chopped off, brains blown out, trailing intestines being caught on the rib cages of other corpses... ah, beautiful.  And our story is progressing nicely.  Those that can't hack it are breaking down with delightfully dramatic results, and those that can are stepping up to the plate and taking our story arc into all kinds of fun directions.  
  I'm straight up loving this.  Zombie comics sure can help one forget about one's own leaking brains, that's for sure.

  Hi.  Me again.  May I just point out that everything that's happened from issue 27 on is totally, completely, awesomely BADASS.  The gore, the violence, the utterly evil Governor with his dirty little predilections and creepy ass roommate(s)... THIS is more like it.  The situation has suddenly become incredibly thrilling.  I friggin' LOVE this comic book.  Issue 33 in particular rocks my socks.  I love comeuppances, and we finally have ourselves a badass female character.  Sure, she's apparently batshit crazy, but that's just what we could consider a... quirk.
  Hooray for the Walking Dead!