Greg Bardsley

If you’re looking for a babysitter, or a driving instructor, you may want to pass on Terry, the reluctant parental guardian in Jed Ayres’s story, “1998 Was a Bad Year,” which appears in the latest edition of  Thuglit.

There’s something about this story that first disturbs, then amuses. You know guys like Terry are out there, somewhere, and that’s the disturbing part. But when you’re in the hands of a writer like Ayres, you want to go on that ride. It’s like this ’78 TransAm skids up onto your lawn, spins a donut and blares the horn, and the next thing you know, you’re happy to be sandwhiched between a couple of shady characters in the back seat, destined for a joyride into a world of neo-degenerancy you just don’t wanna miss.

Well, you get the idea.

Also in this edition are top-shelf tales by Changa buddies Jason Duke and Hillary Davidson, as well as stories (which I hope to soon read) by Eric Beetner, Patrick Cobbs, Robert S.P. Lee, Sophie Littlefield and Myra Sherman. Check them out.

Meanwhile, over in the United Kingdom, Pulp Pusher is running Frank Bill’s “These Old Bones,” which hits you in the jaw right from the start. Warning to those with delicate sensibilities, or those who prefer introspective, meandering “literature” about a sweet girl in a bonet walking through fields of daiseys with “Papa”: keep walking, don’t look at Frank Bill. For the rest of you: come over here.