Moxley and Eirene: Moonshine King, Burgoo Queen

By: Ron Whitehead & Greta Render

Mama gave me a tin cup when I was a boy. Til I left home, when I was 17, I wore a thin rope, to hold my pants up. I’ve always been skinny. I kept my tin cup, and a knife with a bottle opener, on my rope. They both came in handy many times including, and especially, my last visit with Moxley and Eirene.

I was 16, a year away from leaving home, leaving home for good, leaving home forever. I’d come to visit Moxley and Eirene, travelin by boat, alone. I didn’t know how many more times I’d have this opportunity. It was a crisp clear day in early September. The sad and glad of early fall filled me up. It felt good but it ached with loneliness too. Continue reading

Autobahn, Biergarten & Godzilla

It was a Monday morning: Flying down the left lane of the Autobahn at 200 mph, we shot past what looked like a wicked Maserati, but it was impossible to tell. The cars in the middle lane were traveling at over 100 mph, but they were just a blur, appearing for a moment and then gone, like a muzzle flash in the dark. Cars heeding the recommended speed of 80 mph, and all trucks, clung to the right. There was a pathway of grass between the outside lanes and a guardrail. No medians and oncoming traffic, just a one way track cut through the lush Bavarian forest.

Although we were rushing through the air at breakneck speed, when he let up off the gas the cockpit became surprisingly and eerily quiet. Then when he jammed it down again, the engine howled like a gray wolf and the power was just as harrowing. I was extremely anxious. What’s the point of wearing this seatbelt? I wondered. No one’s getting out of here alive. The instigator of this madness was Reinhard, my cousin. He met me at the Frankfurt airport a few minutes earlier. Now we were heading to Nurberg to check out the 24 hour endurance race at the infamous track. Continue reading

Fear & Loathing with Colonel Leonard – Part 3

By: Clayton L. Luce

“Only broken people have all of the solutions. That’s why no one listens to them until they’re dead.”

Just as quickly as the dense wood had begun at the edge of the drainage ditch, it suddenly ended. We had come upon a strange, nightmarish clearing in the trees. Beyond us lay a scene from a terrible John Carpenter movie. There was a narrow rickety foot bridge, composed of a single width of 4 inch timber which ran like a single railroad track deep out into the swamp. It would require high wire balancing skills to even cross it.

We must be absolutely sure of our footing. Continue reading

A Beginners Guide to Surviving the Amnesia Rockfest-Part 1

By: Maven Cade Leary

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, and is not intended to encourage or condone the violation of applicable law.

Part One: Arrive Early, Exercise Restraint, and Get Some Sleep

As soon as we left the city, the temperature dropped by at least ten degrees Celsius. I wasn’t prepared for this shit. I knew it would become a pain in the ass, but I could do nothing about it now.

Just keep your alcohol level up, keep moving, and you should barely notice the lack of feeling in your extremities, I told myself.

I’m not a wuss, but Quebec nights can be cold. Even in late June. You forget this when you live in Montreal. The smog and the cement everywhere do a great job to keep the night’s tee-shirt weather. Continue reading

RIP America: A Story of Us

By: Ernie Hurt

Within the last couple months or so, I’ve learned more about myself than I could have ever imagined. I rediscovered talents that id long given up on. I’ve come to terms with who I am and also where I want to go with my life. At this point of my life, I believe I have had sufficient time to reflect on myself and as well as my peers.

Throughout adult hood, I seem to have gone down a much different path that most sane, normal people would have avoided with all their might. The way I see it, since 18 or 19 years of age, I have walked the fringes of society. Not quite an outlaw and no less than a citizen. I tell myself that I’ve stayed in the grey area of life, mingling with good American apple-pie eating folks as well as drug dealers and users, while not falling into either sect. As we all know the best stories are always left untold and there are places that we could never fathom. Continue reading